Chapter 46: Man of Steel
The next morning,
The digital clock on the training room wall flashed 6:30 AM in bright crimson.
Scar exhaled a harsh, heavy breath, his arms trembling as he locked his elbows out, suspending three hundred kilograms of raw iron above his chest. He came here immediately after waking ten minutes ago, planning to meticulously complete his daily quest on time. The bench groaned beneath his weight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, rolling down his jaw to hit the padded leather, but his muscles felt fundamentally different today. There was a dense, coiled energy resting just beneath his skin—a direct result of the agonizing cellular adaptation he had forced upon himself the previous evening.
He racked the heavy barbell with a loud, metallic clang.
[Objective 2 Complete: Lift a total of 100 kilograms]
You have received: 5 EXP, +2 Strength, +2.5 Stamina]
Scar didn’t rest. He immediately dropped to the floor, grinding through his calisthenics with mechanical precision. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups—he pushed through the reps until his joints ached and his core burned.
[Objective 3 Complete: Do ten push-ups and twenty sit-ups]
[You have received: 10 EXP, +5 Durability, +2.5 Stamina]
[Exp: 970/1000]
[Durability: 60]
[Stamina: 120]
Scar stood up, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his neck. His body felt lighter, more attuned to the sheer physical power hiding in his cells. He threw the towel into a hamper, grabbed his jacket, and walked out of the training room, intent on leaving the estate immediately. He had a 10-kilometer running quest to complete, and after that, he planned to head straight into the hunting grounds.
As he turned the corner into the grand foyer, his path was abruptly blocked.
A young maid stood directly between him and the massive front doors. She looked to be around his age, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the immaculate, tailored uniform of the Glacier Palace staff. She was undeniably beautiful, with soft, doe-like brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and dark hair neatly pinned back. She held a silver tray carrying a steaming plate of grilled chicken, seasoned eggs, and a tall glass of protein-infused juice.
She flinched slightly when she saw him, her hands trembling just enough to make the silverware rattle against the tray.
"Move," Scar said, his voice flat and completely devoid of interest. He didn’t care about her flushed cheeks or the nervous way she bit her lower lip. She was simply an obstacle between him and the front door.
"I-I’m sorry, Young Master Roy," the maid stammered, stepping into his path again, her voice wavering. "But Lady Myers gave me explicit instructions. She insists that you must eat a proper breakfast before you leave the estate today. She... she said you exerted yourself too much yesterday."
"I am fine," Scar replied, stepping to the side to bypass her. "I’ll grab something in the city. Excuse me."
The maid panicked, side-stepping to block him a second time. She bowed her head, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Young Master. If you leave without eating this, Lady Myers will dismiss me from my position. I send my wages back to my younger siblings in the lower sectors. I cannot afford to lose this job. I am begging you."
Scar stopped. He looked at her trembling hands, then up to her desperate eyes. He despised being managed, but he recognized the authority Felicity held over the staff. The girl wasn’t lying; Felicity would fire her without a second thought for failing a direct order.
Scar let out a long, irritated sigh. "Fine."
He didn’t invite her to set it down on a dining table. He simply reached out, grabbed the grilled chicken barehanded from the pristine plate, and took a massive bite. He downed the glass of protein juice in three long gulps, chewing the meat rapidly before grabbing the eggs and finishing them in a matter of seconds.
He placed the empty glass back onto the silver tray.
"There. I ate," Scar wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Tell Lady Myers her orders were followed. Now get out of my way."
"Y-Yes. Thank you, Young Master," the maid whispered, bowing deeply as she scrambled out of his path.
Scar pushed through the heavy front doors, stepping out onto the sprawling pavement of the estate.
The morning air was crisp and cool. The sun was just beginning to bleed over the distant skyline of Arcadia, painting the clouds in streaks of violent orange and purple.
Scar rolled his shoulders, feeling the latent kinetic energy humming in his veins. He had reached a new plateau of velocity. Now, it was time to test the engine.
After exiting through the Palace gates, Scar took out his stopwatch and dropped into a low sprinter’s stance, his fingertips grazing the cold concrete. He took a deep breath, flooding his lungs with oxygen, and focused his intent.
Then—
Boom.
The sound of the sonic displacement echoed like a cannon shot as Scar violently launched himself forward, while simultaneously starting the timer on the watch. The pavement cracked under his feet as he directly engaged his maximum velocity.
[Speed Rate: 0 >> 720 km/hr]
The acceleration was instantaneous and terrifying. In a fraction of a second, the trees and sprawling gardens of the street smeared into a singular streak of vibrant green. As he hit the main avenue, the world around him warped. At 720 kilometers per hour, he was traveling at exactly 200 meters every single second.
Scar wasn’t just running; he was locked in a violent negotiation with physics. The wind, which normally felt like a gentle breeze, suddenly solidified into an oppressive, heavy wall pressing against his chest and face. His jacket whipped behind him violently, snapping like a flag in a hurricane. The ambient noise of the city: the hum of hovercars, the chatter of early morning pedestrians, the grinding of construction mechs were instantly muted, replaced entirely by the deafening, continuous roar of his own slipstream.
He wove through the wide streets with terrifying precision. To his normal eyes, a car pulling out of an intersection would have been a deadly, unavoidable wall of steel. But as he approached the intersection, he triggered his Accelerated Perception.
The world instantly plunged into slow motion. The falling autumn leaves suspended in mid-air. A hovering transport truck crawled across his path at a microscopic pace. Scar didn’t even break his stride. He planted his left boot against the side of a concrete lamppost, pushing off it to alter his trajectory by a fraction of a degree, sliding perfectly through a three-foot gap between the truck and a civilian vehicle before deactivating the skill.
The world violently snapped back to full speed.
He monitored his interface as he ran. The ten-kilometer distance to the central park was disappearing rapidly. Eight kilometers. Nine kilometers. Seven.
What amazed him the most wasn’t the sheer velocity, but his biology. The previous day, running at 670 km/hr had rapidly drained his stamina pool, burning his lungs and tearing his muscle fibers. Now? His heart pumped with a steady, powerful rhythm. His lungs expanded efficiently, drawing in the compressed oxygen without the burning sensation of fatigue. His stamina bar was barely ticking down. It was as though the +50 km/hr adaptation boost had fundamentally upgraded his cellular efficiency.
After a short while Scar finally approached his destination. He dug his heels into the asphalt, violently applying the brakes. The friction generated a screeching howl, his rubber soles smoking as he left twin black streaks across the pavement. He skidded for fifty yards before coming to a complete, balanced halt directly in front of the wrought-iron gates of Arcadia Central Park.
He checked the timer on his stopwatch.
Fifty seconds.
A victorious grin broke across his face. He had crossed ten kilometers of dense, urban terrain in under a minute.
Just then, the system notification appeared.
[Daily Quest Complete: Run 10 Kilometers]
[You have received: +5 EXP, +10 Km/hr to Top Speed]
[Exp: 975/1000]
[Top Speed: 720 >> 730 Km/hr]
Scar smirked, shaking the residual static electricity from his hands. He walked casually into the park toward the familiar food truck situated in the center, and got himself a protein-heavy burger to replace the calories he had just burned. And just like he planned, he got the meal for free again today, since he was the first customer.
As he unwrapped the foil and took a massive bite, his mind was already mapping out his day. He needed to hit the hunting grounds. The +50 km/hr boost he gained the previous day was a massive victory, but he was hungry for more. He needed levels. He needed raw stats.
But as he approached the main gates of the park to exit, his plans came to an abrupt halt.
"Fast food won’t give you the proteins you need, kid." A thick voice suddenly drifted into his ears.
Scar stopped. He raised his head slowly toward the source of the voice.
Parked illegally on the pristine curb, partially concealed by the shadow of a massive oak tree, was a military-grade, matte black hovercar. It looked like a tank disguised as a civilian vehicle. Leaning against the hood was a man who looked like he could bench-press the vehicle itself.
He was a mountain of muscle, clad in cargo pants and a dark, long sleeve shirt that stretched tightly over his massive shoulders. His face was weathered, his expression set in a permanent, unforgiving scowl. He watched Scar approach with eyes that looked like they had seen decades of war.
It was Xavier. The man who was with Jane on the day Henry woke up in the forest.
Scar had only seen him once since coming into this world, but the memories he got from the first Henry suggested they were acquainted to a certain degree.
"Hey," Scar said casually, turning his attention back to the burger, completely ignoring Xavier’s statement.
"You’re late," Xavier grunted, his voice a deep, gravelly baritone that vibrated in the air.
Scar took another bite of his burger, chewing slowly as he looked the huge man up and down. "Late for what? I don’t recall setting up a meeting with you."
"You didn’t," Xavier said calmly. He didn’t offer a polite smile. He simply stared at Scar with the authority of a man who was used to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed. "Felicity set the schedule. You have durability and endurance training with me today. Get in the car."
Scar stood his ground on the pavement, his expression hardening. He hated being told what to do, and he certainly wasn’t going to take orders from a man he barely knew just because Felicity commanded it.
"I appreciate the offer, but we’ll have to do this some other time," Scar said dismissively, taking another bite of his burger. "I have plans. I need to hit the hunting grounds today."
"Your plans are none of my concern," Xavier replied, his voice completely flat, completely immune to Scar’s stubbornness. "As a speedster, your body is like an high-performance engine. If the chassis is weak, the engine will eventually rip the frame apart. You need a stronger body, denser bones, and a deeper stamina pool to be able to survive your own kinetic output. Besides, where we’re going, you’ll be able to hunt as much as you like. Now, get in the car."
"No," Scar narrowed his eyes, his tone dropping into a dangerous register. "I don’t take orders from you."
Xavier finally pushed off the hood of the hovercar. He took two slow steps toward Scar. The sheer physical presence of the man was suffocating. He was over six and a half feet tall, and his aura radiated a heavy, dense pressure that made the air feel thick.
"You think you have a choice?" Xavier asked, his voice low and terrifying. "I am not asking you, kid. I am telling you. You can either get in the passenger seat under your own power, or I can break your legs and throw you in the trunk. The choice is yours, but either way, you’re coming with me." He stated sharply, yet calmly, making Scar understand that the man wasn’t bluffing. He was dead serious.
Scar calculated his options. Running away would be a massive hit to his pride, and trying to fight a man of Xavier’s obvious caliber and physical strength would be a foolish move and a tactical disaster.
Besides, since it was Felicity who arranged the session, he was obliged to go with Xavier. It was part of their agreement.
Scar gritted his teeth, tossing the rest of his burger into a nearby incinerator bin. "Fine. I’ll come with you," he said sharply, his voice carrying a tone of defiance, despite the intimidating presence in front of him. "But only out of respect for my mother. Not you."
Before Xavier could give a response, Scar walked past him and yanked the passenger door open, sliding into the cold, utilitarian interior.
Without saying a word, Xavier climbed into the driver’s seat, the suspension groaning heavily under his immense weight. He engaged the thrusters and gripped the steering wheel. The heavy vehicle shot vertically into the air, merging violently into the high-altitude transit lanes before banking sharply away from the city center.
They flew in silence for a few minutes, the gleaming skyscrapers of Arcadia rapidly giving way to the sprawling, untamed wilderness of the outer territories.
Scar stared out the car window, his annoyance simmering. He finally turned his head to look at the brute beside him. "Why are you doing this?" he asked with a scoff.
"Doing what?" Xavier asked, keeping his eyes locked on the horizon.
"Training me," Scar said, "You don’t strike me as the type of guy who enjoys babysitting."
Xavier let out a short, humorless breath through his nose. "Don’t flatter yourself, kid. I’m not doing this for you. I don’t care about your potential or your abilities." He said flatly.
"Then why the hell did you make me come with you?" Scar asked sharply.
"Because Felicity asked me to," Xavier stated coldly. "I’m doing all of this for her. When she gives an order, I execute it." He let out a deep breath. "And she has tasked me with making sure your body doesn’t tear itself apart when you reach high speeds. And I’m going to do exactly that. Nothing more, nothing less."
Scar absorbed the statement. It was a refreshing dose of honesty. A raw, transactional loyalty to the matriarch. He could respect that logic.
The hovercar continued to accelerate, flying far beyond the designated, fenced-in zones of the Hunting Grounds. The landscape below turned deeply primal. The trees grew to monstrous proportions, their canopies forming an impenetrable sea of dark, ancient green.
Eventually, Xavier killed the main thrusters and the hovercar descended rapidly, breaking through the dense canopy and landing with a heavy, metallic thud in a massive, overgrown clearing miles away from any known civilization.
Scar stepped out of the vehicle, his boots sinking slightly into the damp, rich earth as he surveyed his surroundings. The sheer scale of the place was staggering. The trees were almost the size of skyscrapers, their massive roots tearing through the ground like petrified serpents. The air was thick with the scent of pine, wet soil, and the unmistakable, metallic tang of dried blood. It felt primal, unbound, and incredibly dangerous
Scar looked around, thoroughly confused. Why the hell did you bring me to the forest?" He asked sharply.
"Isn’t it obvious? We’re here to train."Xavier noted dryly, locking the hovercar’s systems down with a heavy beep.
"I thought we were heading to one of the hunting grounds," Scar said, turning to him. "What are we doing all the way out here?"
"Why settle for a sanitized hunting ground when we can find much stronger opponents out here?" Xavier replied, rolling up his sleeves to reveal forearms as thick as tree trunks. "Those grounds are for rich kids and weak hunters. Here, in the Unbound Forest, there are no walls, no safety protocols, and no rules. You are challenged by nature itself."
Scar frowned, his analytical mind trying to piece the schedule together. "Wait, hold on. You said today was going to be about durability and endurance," he pouted out. "So shouldn’t we be at a gym? Lifting weights or something?"
Xavier turned to face Scar, and for the very first time since they had met, a smile crept onto the man’s face. It wasn’t a warm smile. It wasn’t friendly. It was a terrifying, predatory grin that promised absolute suffering. He spread his massive arms wide, gesturing to the primeval wilderness looming around them.
"This IS the gym," Xavier’s voice echoed in the silent clearing. "Everything we need to tear your muscles apart and build them back stronger is right here."
Scar raised a brow. "What are you talking about?" He asked in confusion, staring at Xavier like he’d lost his mind. "
Instead of answering, Xavier walked over to a towering Ironwood tree—a species known in the outer zones for having bark as dense as titanium. Xavier didn’t take a stance. He didn’t tense his muscles or draw upon any visible mana. He simply pulled his right arm back and drove his bare fist directly into the trunk.
BOOM. CRACK!
The impact sounded like an artillery shell. The massive tree splintered instantly, the trunk completely obliterated at the point of impact. As the eighty-foot canopy began to fall, Scar watched in shock as Xavier casually reached up and caught the falling timber with one hand.
With a few rapid, effortless swipes of his other hand, Xavier sheared the thick branches off the trunk. He then gripped the massive cylinder of wood and snapped it over his knee like a dry twig, breaking it into several perfectly sized logs of varying masses. He then picked up the largest chunk—a solid block of dense wood that easily weighed upwards of five tons. He hoisted it onto his massive shoulders without a single grunt of exertion and executed ten rapid, explosive squats. The ground beneath his boots cratered from the sheer force, but Xavier didn’t even break a sweat. After he had done a few reps, he casually tossed the five-ton log aside. The earth shook as it landed.
Xavier then walked over to a smaller, but still incredibly formidable, chunk of Ironwood weighing a few hundred pounds. He kicked it over to Scar’s feet.
"Pick it up and do some overhead presses," Xavier ordered, his smile vanishing, replaced by the ruthless, uncompromising demeanor of a warlord. "Press it until your shoulders give out."
Scar stared at the dense block of timber in silence. He was still shocked by what he had just witnessed: A man breaking a tree with a single punch, then lifting that said tree with one arm and chopping off its branches as if they were mere twigs. Then snapping the tree into several pieces, before then repeatedly lifting one of these heavy pieces overhead like some kind of barbell.
Damn, Scar thought. How could one man possess such insane strength. It was too much. Bro was literally a man of steel.
Scar’s gaze shifted back to the chunk of ironwood in front of him. The sheer density of the timber was daunting. To a normal human, attempting to lift it would snap their spine instantly. And even with his somewhat above average stats, it was a terrifying prospect. The wood was heavy, but logically scaled just enough that his current strength level could handle it, but only if he pushed himself to the absolute limit.
He looked at Xavier again, expecting a hint of a joke, a sign that this was merely an intimidation tactic. But the man’s face remained stoic. He wasn’t joking.
Scar let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. He stepped up to the log, bent his knees, and hoisted the rough bark up to his collarbone. He planted his boots wide into the damp earth, gripping the wood with both hands.
"Push," Xavier commanded.
Scar gritted his teeth and drove his heels into the dirt. He engaged every single muscle fiber in his core and arms, letting out a guttural shout as he locked his elbows out, pressing the heavy log above his head.
"Again," Xavier barked. "Your speed generates massive amounts of kinetic energy, kid. When you hit a target at high velocity, the impact reverberates right back into your own body. If your bones are brittle and your muscles are weak, your own momentum will shatter you to dust! You need to be a bullet, not a glass cannon! So push!"
Scar’s eyes flared with intensity. He refused to fail. He refused to be weak. He drew upon the reservoir of strength he had built from leveling up, funneling all of his intent into his legs.
For the next three hours, the forest became a chamber of absolute, structured torture. Xavier proved to be a brutally resourceful taskmaster, improvising an entire high-performance gym out of the wilderness.
When Scar’s arms finally gave out from the presses, Xavier didn’t let him rest. He ripped thick, fibrous vines from the canopy and expertly wove them into a heavy resistance harness. He strapped it to Scar’s chest and tied the other end to a massive, flat-bottomed boulder.
"Now you’re gonna do some resistance sprints," Xavier ordered, pointing toward a stretch of deep, thick mud. "Drive with your quads. Keep your center of gravity low. Move!"
Scar dragged the boulder through the sucking mud, his vision swimming. His quadriceps burned like liquid fire. His muscles tore under the immense strain, healed slightly thanks to his rapid biological regeneration, and then tore again.
After a series of agonizing torment from pulling a boulder, Xavier led Scar to a grove of oak trees. "Muay Thai fighters back in the old world used to kick banana trees to micro-fracture their shins," he explained, slapping the hardened bark. "The bones calcify and heal much denser. I want you to hit this tree with everything you got, using your fists, elbows, and shins."
Scar spent thirty minutes striking the unforgiving bark. His knuckles bled, his shins throbbed, and his forearms bruised, but through the sheer, unrelenting agony, he kept his jaw clamped shut. He understood the brutal, tactical logic behind Xavier’s methods. The brute was systematically breaking down his physical chassis to force it to rebuild stronger.
When Scar finally collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving violently and his limbs trembling, a series of system notifications chimed in his vision.
[Alert! Host’s has gained a permanent increase in physical attributes through corporeal conditioning and adaptation]
[Stamina: 120 >> 122]
[Durability: 60 >> 65]
[Strength: 31 >> 35]
[Muscular Density Increased]
Scar forced a weak, ragged smirk, wiping the mud and sweat from his eyes. He stared at the screens in genuine surprise.
"So... it’s not just my speed that can increase by pushing through my limits," he muttered under his breath, analyzing the data.
[Exactly,] Miley’s voice chimed in his mind. [You can elevate any of your base stats simply through constant effort and extreme physical conditioning related to that specific stat. The system rewards organic biological adaptation]
Scar felt a surge of excitement. This meant he wasn’t entirely dependent on leveling up to increase his raw stats. But as he looked at the grueling physical toll his body had just taken, reality set in. He had just gone through three hours of hellish workouts just to gain four points of Strength, five points of Durability, and a measly two points of Stamina. It was a brutally low return on investment. Grinding levels by hunting beasts was still undeniably the most efficient way to grow stronger.
Still, Scar couldn’t deny the satisfaction of knowing the agonizing workout had paid off almost immediately. He was tangibly harder to kill now than he had been three hours ago.
Xavier walked over, dropping a heavy metal canteen directly onto Scar’s chest.
"Drink up and catch your breath," Xavier ordered, his gaze shifting away from the makeshift gym and toward the dense treeline of the forest. "The warm-up is over. Now, it’s time for the main event. Now, it’s time to hunt."
Scar sat up, unscrewing the cap and downing half the water. He wiped his mouth, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline returning. "Finally. Something I’m good at." He raised his hand, intending to summon his weapons from his inventory, but Xavier’s massive hand suddenly clamped down over his wrist like an iron vice.
"No weapons," Xavier stated flatly. "And no speed."
Scar frowned, staring at the him in awe. "What? But you just said we’re hunting."
"We are," Xavier nodded, releasing his grip. "But you are doing it with your bare hands. No abilities or weapons allowed. You never can tell when your mana cells might run dry and leave you temporarily unable to use your ability. Imagine a fight where you lose your speed or your weapons, what will you do? Will you just lie down and die? No. You will use the environment. You will use leverage. You will use your hands."
Scar knew internally that his speed were governed by the Celestial System and didn’t rely on biological mana cells that could easily "run dry" like the others, but he couldn’t exactly explain that to Xavier. Besides, the tactical logic was sound. He needed to be lethal even when completely stripped of his advantages.
But still, hunting with bare hands? That was either madness or stupidity, or both.
Just then, a low, guttural growl echoed from the thick brush. And almost immediately, three E-rank Steelwolves emerged from the treeline, stepping into the clearing with malicious intent. They were the size of large lions, their bodies covered in thick, razor-sharp fur that glinted like polished iron. Their jaws dripped with corrosive saliva, their eyes glowing with a predatory red hunger.
"Watch and learn, kid," Xavier grunted, stepping forward to engage the beasts.