For the next several days, I practiced the Earth Heart Mantra alone in my tiny house. In reality, I didn’t do much more than sit there and wait. Meals were delivered by servants, but they never stuck around to chat. It was a somewhat miserable existence. I tried my best to cultivate, but it seemed like with zero affinity making any progress was going to be more difficult than I had expected.


    Fortunately, on the fifth day, things changed. Everyone was brought to the large dirt square behind the houses, the imperiously named ‘Martial Arts Training Yard’.


    As we gathered, I noticed one thing that was a little strange. A few children were missing from the group, including the red-robed prick who beat me to death a few days ago. Putting that together with the look of superiority he gave me the last time we met, I could guess that the elites had been separated out for special training. Good news for me it seemed.


    An older man with a more military bearing stood in the middle of the yard and began giving orders.


    “Alright, quiet! Space out and circle around,” he shouted. “For the next three months, you will all be undergoing extensive martial arts training. Every hour of every day you will either be exercising, cultivating, or recovering. After three months, many of you will no longer be members of my clan. If you want any hope of remaining one, you will push yourself to do your best at every moment. If you do not want to be one, you will still push to do your best at every moment, because if you don’t, the moment you leave this place you will learn what it’s like to live as a commoner. Basic martial skills are a necessity."


    “This training won’t just be hard. It will be deadly. If you relax for even a moment, you might find out that it was your last. Now, time for a little demonstration,” he said, with an evil glint in his eye, “do we have any volunteers?”


    Everyone froze. No one wanted to be the first to offer themselves up for a beating. After waiting a few beats, I decided to make a move. Was it stupid? Sure. Did I care? Not really. What was the worst that could happen?


    I stepped forward.


    “I volunteer.”


    “Excellent,” the instructor said, seeming truly satisfied. “Attack me!”


    Again, I briefly froze, but after only a moment I moved. I was no professional, but I had learned a bit of fighting in my first life. I wasn’t a UFC contender, but I was confident enough to take down a street tough. I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to win, but if I could put on a good show, maybe I could earn a little respect.


    I rushed forward and punched out with my left fist at the man’s chest. It wasn’t a feint, but it also wasn’t a full-power hit. I had to force him to raise his arms for a block. As he did, I pivoted and swung my right fist at his mid-section. This was again blocked.


    I worked as hard as I could, throwing out a punch or kick whenever I saw a potential opening. The man easily blocked everything. He didn’t even bother to dodge or redirect the force of my attacks. He just stuck out a palm and batted me away.


    “Good, it seems like at least someone knows a little about fighting,” the instructor said happily. Then, his slight smile flashed into a sudden scowl. “Too bad you don’t listen. I told you that if you relax for even a moment you might die!”


    Suddenly, he punched.


    The blow hit my head, stunning me. If this man was even close to as strong as the guard I had met earlier, he could kill me in a single hit, but he didn’t. He spent several slow, agonizing minutes tenderizing my flesh. One bone after another snapped as he pummeled me. I wanted him to stop, but I couldn’t speak.


    Finally, my body fell limply to the dirt ground.


    “This is your lesson for today. In this training, slacking for even a moment means death.”


    Every breath I took was painful. No one even gave me a second look.


    You have died. Calculating…


    You died as a Martial Disciple 1. 10 credits awarded.


    Total Credits: 10


    <hr>


    I sat back down in my house. Nothing made a sound, which was nice. Waking from death was starting to become routine, but it still wasn’t easy. The memories of bleeding out in the dirt lingered. Coming to during the awakening ceremony was more difficult than it had ever been before, but coming back to this tiny house had almost become relaxing.


    I laughed mirthlessly. My purchase of that healing pill had been a waste. I was back in the same spot I started, same terrible body, ten credits poorer.


    I thought about buying another one, but there was no point in wasting money. Better to see if I could complete this new encounter without it first.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I did my best to repeat everything that I did in my last life. I didn’t have a healed body this time, but I still claimed it was healed. It didn’t seem to make any difference to the examiner. The extra few days of practice with the Earth Heart Mantra didn’t make any difference. I was still unable to make any progress.


    So, when we all gathered around the Martial Arts Training Yard again, everything was pretty much exactly the same as last time.


    “Now, time for a little demonstration,” he said, with an evil glint in his eye, “do we have any volunteers?”


    Learning that volunteering meant death, I wisely chose to keep silent. I did my best impression of a stone, letting time pass by as the murderer in front of me waited for someone to kill.


    “Hmpf, not a single person brave enough to even demonstrate what they know,” the man said in a disgusted tone. “Fine. You! Step forward and show me something.”


    The bastard was pointing right at me. Apparently, I was the designated whipping boy for today. Sparring with him was almost certain death, so when I stepped forward, I just began air boxing. Trying to demonstrate my punches and kicks for him.


    “What the hell are you doing? Get over here and fight! NOW!”


    I didn’t want to go. Something shoved me forward. I managed to balance and get into an attacking stance. It didn’t matter.


    You have died. Calculating…


    You died as a Martial Disciple 1. 10 credits awarded.


    Total Credits: 20


    <hr>


    Again… why? The suffering didn’t get any easier. Knowing what was happening only made it worse.


    I needed to calm down. I needed to talk it out and work through the problem.


    “Why did I die?” I asked myself in my tiny house. I looked at the floor and began tracing cracks in the wood with my eyes.


    “Because a huge prick forced me to fight him. But he could have picked anyone. He picked me. He wanted to kill me. Why?” I stared straight ahead at the barren wall and rickety wooden door. “Why is too difficult. Not enough information. What can I change so that it doesn’t happen again?”


    I thought through the options of what I could change. The easiest would be to simply stand in a different spot. That would be free, so it would allow me to save my credits. It was also likely meaningless. There was no way it would work.


    Should I try it? It was a variable I could easily change. If it didn’t work, all it meant was another death. Another painful, trauma-inducing death. I didn’t want to experience that again, but it was worth checking. The credits from that death would be beneficial, and the System couldn’t complain that the death was ‘intentional.’


    I shuddered.


    “Yes… death… hurts,” I told myself, “but I have to experiment to understand what variables are important.”


    …


    You have died. Calculating…


    You died as a Martial Disciple 1. 10 credits awarded.


    Total Credits: 30


    <hr>


    “Okay, nothing to do with where I was standing.” I took a heavy, unsteady breath when I arrived back at my house. “At least now I know. So, what’s left? Why am I being targeted?”


    I thought of three possibilities. One: my background. Something special about my background, or just the fact that I’m an orphan, makes me the best target for this little lesson. Two: my actions. Something about the way I act between revival and this demonstration gets me targeted. Three: my skill. Zero affinity and no demonstrated blessing. This makes me worthless in the eyes of the higher-ups. Better to kill me now to at least extract some educational value.


    I couldn’t do anything about one, or should I say, doing something about one would likely cost serious credits.


    As for two, while I could change how I acted, I didn’t know what actions might be causing such a reaction. More information would be nice so I could run tests, but I didn’t know what to change. Also, I truly did not want to suffer at that bastard’s hands again.


    Number three, then. If I wanted to survive, I needed an affinity or blessing. That way I would at least have some amount of perceived value.


    I could only purchase a permanent affinity increase once, though. At least, only once at a discounted price. Was this the right time? No, better to learn more before wasting an opportunity. Purchasing one-time upgrades would burn credits, but with any luck, the knowledge gained would be worth it.


    I also needed that healing pill. I wouldn’t survive long without it, but buying one every time would add up. Of course…


    “System, I want to buy a minor healing pill that will reappear after every death.”


    You want to purchase a healing pill that will return to the storage space after each death. The cost is 200 credits… Processing… An external entity has discounted the price. Cost 20 credits.


    The price wasn’t bad. I had 30 credits, so I could buy that and still have enough for a one-time earth affinity boost. Was that the right thing to do? What were the chances of still getting targeted with the lowest-level affinity?


    “Getting the next level would only be 25 more credits…” I told myself, “It’s only three more deaths.”


    As long as it was that guardsman, three more deaths wouldn’t be too bad. When he killed me, it was painful, but it ended quickly. I could endure that. I could only hope the System didn’t punish me.


    You have died. Calculating…


    You have died. Calculating…


    You have died. Calculating…


    You died as a Martial Disciple 1. 10 credits awarded.


    Total Credits: 60


    System Warning: Quick, repeated, intentional deaths detected. Further actions may result in an administrative response.


    <hr>


    I collapsed in my house. I was mentally exhausted. Three rapid deaths. How bad could it be? It felt like my soul had begun to fracture.


    Yes, I was reborn. I was in perfect health. But I still felt myself die. It still lingered in my thoughts.


    “Never again. I don’t want to do that ever again.”


    Centering myself, I focused on what I needed to do at that moment.


    “System, I want to buy a minor healing pill that will reappear after every death.”


    For a healing pill that will return to the storage space after each death, the cost is 20 credits.


    Purchase confirmed. 40 credits remaining.


    “System, I want to buy the mid nine-star earth affinity that only lasts this lifetime.”


    Temporary mid nine-star earth affinity. The cost is 35 credits.


    Purchase confirmed. 5 credits remaining.


    I felt the changes in my body. It was hard to describe. It just felt like my body was more real than it was before. Like… like I was moving through the world now, whereas before I was more like a ghost.


    “We will see. Hopefully, this works.”