Part-73

  James snorted, amusement flickering across his features. "This system is as ridiculous as ever," he muttered to himself. Challenge someoo a duel for a measly point in wisdom? And a penalty that could potentially cripple his stats? It was as transparent as the gss facade of the trainier itself.

  He g Mili, his amusement fading. Why bring him to a pce like this? Was this some kind of test, a way to gauge his newfouermination? Or was there something more at py, something ected to the hidden world she seemed to inhabit?

  "So," he began, his voice surprisingly steady, "what happens now?"

  Mili met his gaze, a slight smile tugging at the er of her lips. "Now," she said, her voice firm, "you get to see what a real champion looks like. But joking aside, I came here to expin something—why I wasn't afraid of Ryan that day and why I didn't want you to get involved."

  James shrugged, opting not to ask why right then. It seemed he would get that answer soon enough.

  Mili led him towards the elevators in the sleek, modern lobby. They asded in silence, and when the doors dinged open on the seventh floor, he was met with a sight far different than the gss and steel exterior. Here, polished stone flleamed uhe soft glow of pendant lights, and the air thrummed with the rhythmic thud of kick meeting heavy bags.

  The training area was divided into two ses by a transparent gss wall. One side bustled with female students, their movements a blur of focused strikes and powerful kicks. The other side housed the male trainees, each move dispying a level of skill that made James gulp nervously.

  Mili paused in front of the se beled "Kickboxing" embzoned on a nearby board. "This is it," she announced, her voice ced with a hint of pride.

  James sed the board, then back at Mili, his bewilderment growing with each passing sed. "This is... a kickboxing gym?" he finally vehe question tumbling out in a fused rush. "Why are we here?"

  Mili, instead of answering directly, turowards the female se, her gaze fixed on a particur group. She poiowards them, a flicker en her eyes. "Don't you remember?"

  James squihrough the gss, trying to decipher what she meant. He saw a group of women sparring, their movements precise and powerful. One figure, taller and leahahers, stood out. Her strikes were lightning-fast, her form fwless. But James didn't reize her.

  "Remember what?" he asked, frustration creeping into his voibsp; This cryptic game of hers was starting to wear thin.

  Mili's gaze snapped ba, her expression unreadable. Just as he was about to press for an expnation, a voied from behind them.

  "Mili? Is that you?"

  James turo see the source of the voibsp; Standing there, a mix of surprise and amusemeched on her face, was a very beautiful middle aged woman. She wore a bck tank top and sants, her features softened from the iy he'd witnessed iraining session. But there was no mistaking her – this was the skilled fighter, the one who stood out amongst the rest.

  "Yes, Mom." Mili said.