The morning light filtered through the curtains as Alex slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Victoria.

She lay tangled in the sheets, her hair spread across the pillow like dark silk, lips still swollen from the night before. He allowed himself a moment to watch her... the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the satisfied curve of her mouth even in sleep.

Last night had been... intense.

He smiled faintly, then dressed in silence and left.

***

The villa that served as Viktor's base of operations sat at the edge of the Roland Estate development... close enough for quick response, far enough for discretion. From the outside, it looked like any other luxury property. Inside, it was a command center.

Alex pulled up to the gate, and it opened before he could reach for the intercom. They were expecting him.

Viktor met him at the door.

"Mr. Hale." The older man inclined his head... respect without subservience. "I hope you're well."

"Viktor." Alex stepped inside, noting the subtle activity around him. Monitors displaying security feeds. Pavel cleaning a disassembled rifle at the dining table. Andre and Damien reviewing documents in the corner.

His team. His people now.

They acknowledged him as he passed... nods, brief eye contact, the quiet recognition of hierarchy. No fanfare. No excessive deference. Just professionals doing their work.

Alex appreciated that.

"Coffee?" Viktor gestured toward a small kitchen area.

"Later." Alex turned to face him directly. "I came here for something else."

Viktor's expression didn't change, but his posture shifted... attentive, ready.

"The fight with Adrian," Alex said. "What did you think?"

Silence stretched for a moment.

Viktor studied him, as if measuring whether honesty would be welcomed or punished. Then he seemed to reach a decision.

"You want the truth?"

"I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Viktor nodded slowly.

"I was impressed by your strength," he began, voice measured. "Adrian was Peak Enhanced. Trained. Experienced. And you broke him despite being Early Enhanced yourself. That's... remarkable."

He paused, his expression thoughtful.

"I also noticed something odd during the fight." Viktor's eyes narrowed slightly, as if replaying the scene in his mind. "You evaded most of Adrian's fatal strikes rather easily. Not with technique... but with instinct. As if your body moved before your mind registered the danger."

His gaze sharpened, studying Alex with new interest.

"That kind of reflexive defense isn't something cultivation alone provides. Which means you have something else. Something protecting you."

Alex felt a flicker of understanding.

Bullet Veil.

The skill had been working in the background, guiding his body away from the most dangerous attacks.

But Viktor had noticed.

Of course he had.

The problem was... Bullet Veil wasn't a fighting skill. It kept him alive, helped him avoid fatal damage, but it didn't teach him how to counter, how to exploit openings, how to turn defense into offense.

It was survival. Not victory.

"But?" Alex prompted, already knowing where this was going.

Viktor's expression shifted, acknowledgment giving way to critique.

"But you could have done better." Viktor's tone carried no judgment... only assessment. "Much better. Given your strength, your speed, your regeneration... that fight should have ended in thirty seconds. Instead, it dragged on. You took hits you didn't need to take. You reacted instead of anticipated."

Alex said nothing. Let the words land.

"You have raw power," Viktor continued. "More than enough to crush opponents above your rank. What you lack is expertise. Combat instinct. The ability to read an opponent mid-fight... predict their movements, exploit openings before they close."

He met Alex's eyes directly.

"You won because Adrian was emotional. Sloppy. He burned through his energy with rage-fueled attacks and fell for an obvious feint." A pause. "Against a disciplined opponent of similar cultivation? The outcome might have been different."

The assessment echoed what Lilith had told him. Word for word, almost.

Which meant it was true.

"What do you suggest? What can I do to reach my full potential?"

Viktor studied him for a moment. Then he stood.

"Come with me."

He gestured to the others. Damien, Andre, Pavel, and Dimitri fell into step behind them without a word.

Viktor led them through a side corridor, past the kitchen, toward a heavy steel door that Alex hadn't noticed before. Viktor punched a code into the keypad. The lock clicked. The door swung open, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.

Alex followed him down.

The basement opened up before him... and Alex stopped.

They had transformed the entire space into a training facility.

Reinforced walls. Padded flooring. A weapons rack along one side... blades, batons, training knives. A section with weights and resistance equipment. And at the center, a sparring ring marked out with tape.

Professional. Functional. Built for purpose.

"This is where we practice," Viktor said, watching Alex take it in. "Every day. Maintaining skill. Sharpening instincts."

He turned to face Alex fully.

"If you're willing, we can design a training program specifically for you. Tailored to your strengths. Focused on eliminating your weaknesses."

Viktor gestured toward his team.

"Each of them specializes in different areas. Damien... close-quarters combat, grappling, joint locks. Dimitri... defensive techniques, counterattacks, reading opponent momentum. Andre... tactical movement, positioning, exploiting openings. Pavel... speed drills, reflexes, overwhelming aggression."

He folded his arms.

"You can spar with any of them. All of them. Learn what they know. Build the instincts you lack."

Alex's gaze swept across the room... the equipment, the ring, the four men standing ready.

His people. His resources. Waiting to be used.

"When do we start?" Viktor asked.

Alex felt something settle in his chest. Purpose. Direction.

"Why not now?"

Viktor's lips curved... genuine approval.

"Good answer."

He turned to Pavel.

"Pavel. You're first."

Pavel stepped forward immediately, rolling his shoulders loose as he moved toward the sparring ring. No hesitation. No questions.

Viktor raised a hand before they began.

"Rules," he said, voice carrying command. "Minimal force. No cultivation enhancement beyond basic reinforcement. This isn't about power... it's about technique. Reading. Reacting. Anticipating."

His eyes moved between them.

"Pavel... test him. Probe his instincts. Find the gaps." He looked at Alex. "And you... forget your strength. Focus on movement. On reading his body before he strikes. On being where he isn't."

Alex stepped into the ring, facing Pavel.

Pavel's stance shifted... relaxed but ready, weight balanced, hands loose at his sides. His eyes were calm. Focused. The desperate young man from the hospital was gone. In his place stood a trained fighter with something to prove.

"Ready?" Pavel asked.

Alex settled into position, pushing down the instinct to rely on raw power.

Read. React. Anticipate.

"Ready."

Pavel moved.

A simple jab. Testing. Probing.

Alex saw it coming before Pavel's shoulder even shifted. He slipped left, letting the fist cut through empty air.

Pavel followed with a low kick... predictable, textbook. Alex stepped back, reading the trajectory, already moving before contact.

'Too slow,' Alex thought. 'Too obvious.'

Another jab. A cross. A hook aimed at his ribs.

Alex parried the first, deflected the second, caught the third on his forearm. His body responded almost automatically, the enhanced reflexes doing the work his instincts hadn't yet learned.

For a moment, confidence swelled in his chest.

'Maybe I'm not as bad as they think.'

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