The Sound Of Despair

(Two years later)

Two years quickly passed by, and strangely Sturm did not experience any sabotage anymore. When he asked Edgar about the slave that sabotaged him, the merchant explained that there had actually been a lot more to the case than they had thought. The slave had been coerced by one of the slavers.

The plan was to make Sturm suffer an accident and possibly die. Edgar would have been furious in response, and all the evidence would have led to Smiling Diego. Everyone knew Smiling Diego got rewarded for catching the escaping slave and one of the other slavers did not like that.

He knew the story was made up, and Smiling Diego took his spot in the upcoming promotions for it. In the end, the plot was revealed, and the mastermind hung. After that, a year had passed without any incident, and everyone just gradually started to forget about it.

Around that time, Edgar had introduced a contribution system for Sturm. It was illegal to pay slaves, and a merchant company could lose their license if they did so. The contribution system legally circumvented that. Sturm could use his contribution points to ask for goods he wanted. Most of his points were invested into martial and weapon art manuals or nutritional food.

The only time he asked for something outside of study material or food was around one and a half years after arriving in this world. Sturm had felt that his body's physical enhancement was twice as fast compared to earth and felt that it could not be attributed to just the stambread he was consuming.

The buckets full of gravel and debris he had to carry did not even give him muscle aches anymore. Sturm had to increase the weight and burden somehow to keep training his body. The solutions Sturm came up with were hand and foot cuffs without chains attached to them.

They imitated wrist and ankle weights present on earth, and Sturm had asked for ten different sizes with gradually increasing weight. It was not something smart to do on Earth, as the extra weight would injure the joints, but the increased regeneration in this world made it an effective training method.

When seeing the child wear extra weight while working at the quarry, most slaves looked at him with pity, and most slavers and guards made fun of him. The rumor was that the merchant was punishing him, and the slowly increasing size was thought to be a form of disciplinary action. Additionally, some slaves reported that he was being drilled mercilessly by the merchant's new guard and beaten up on a regular basis.

The falsely perceived punishment was the reason jealousy towards the merchant's slave ceased to exist and why no one wanted to replace him anymore. Sturm did not know that and was more than happy with the current situation.

Reinhardt had kept his word and maintained the training basic. They just did physical training, evasion training, and traditional martial arts moves throughout those years. It was simple but effective. As Bruce Lee once said, "I fear not the man that has practiced ten thousand kicks once, but the man who has practiced one kick ten thousand times."

The only problem was the way Reinhardt wanted him to punch. It was not even close to efficient, fast, or adaptable. Modern combat sports on earth had shown that the jab and cross were reigning supreme over the myriad punching techniques that existed through history.

Only with made-up stories of legendary martial arts masters that passed down the legendary technique of the jab and cross could Sturm, with additional help from Edgar, slowly convince the stubborn guard captain to switch techniques.

Sturm used three months' worth of contribution points to have Edgar draft a contract that prohibited Reinhardt from showing anyone else the 'unique heritage' they discovered. The sheer secrecy his boss and the boy were putting up further solidified the warrior's belief of having found something incredible, but this still was not enough to fully convince someone as pragmatic as the guard captain.

In the end, under various tests, the experienced mercenary saw the practicality of a quick jab and a hard-hitting cross. Just the use of the strength in his legs and the rotation of his hips made his punches almost twice as fast and powerful.

The whole manipulation ended up working a little bit too well. Reinhardt seemed like he joined a fanatical club worshipping the two techniques. He made his young student throw a thousand jabs, a thousand crosses, and a thousand one-two's every day.

That was just the pre-warm up for technique training. Next came the same number of punches with weights, followed by the same while moving, then dodging, and lastly while sparring lightly. All of that came after studying under the merchant and physical training. It really was no wonder no slave approached the merchant anymore, but it was worth it for Sturm.

The Third Chapter of the Art of the Nine Pillars, which dealt with elementary techniques and general human movement, started to surpass even his peak on earth. All his actions good smoother, more efficient, and flowed like water. The concepts Master Bruce once established on Earth were made a reality in another world.

Finally, the day arrived.

"Look at you. You have grown taller, stronger and you do not look like a corpse anymore. Are you sure you want to fight in the pit? You will just bully all those poor kids."

The mercenary was proud of his student. If there was someone who knew how talented and hardworking Sturm was, it had to be the man who witnessed the boy almost sweating blood daily. He put the boy through hellish training and never got complained to once, sometimes even being asked for even harder conditions.

"The moment you step into the ring… I mean, the pit is the moment you accept any risks involved. Besides, isn't fighting stronger opponents the most fun? They should be thankful for me, instead," Sturm said.

Over the years, Reinhardt had already gotten used to the times Sturm talked strangely and as if he was a lot older. He thought it was common for a slave to not behave like a commoner child. Slaves had to grow up fast and face the harsh reality of surviving in this world, so acting like someone wise would give them some much-needed confidence. It was not like he only said complete nonsense either, as Reinhardt found himself agreeing with him most of the time.

"Look at the boy. Rarely is he that excited for anything, not even when I get him new manuals. Reinhardt, take him to the pit and help him with the registration. Afterward, come back and help me pack up. Tibron said he had a new deal for me. We will meet him at 6 o'clock."

<<First time I hear that name. Is that a new business partner?>>

As someone who helped Edgar manage the accounting, Sturm thought he knew everything about their current business. Reinhardt was frowning, which meant the guard captain knew about that guy. Being limited to the slave camp made getting information about the town very difficult, and Edgar obviously was not telling him everything.

"That guy is known as the underground shark. Are you sure we want to work with him?"

"What shark! In front of me, he is nothing more than a little goldfish. Don't you know who the number one dealer in our Thunder Merchant group is? Do not forget that your answer may influence your salary."

The mercenary immediately put on his best smile when he heard the word salary.

"You are, boss! All the other merchants sing ballads of your heroic transactions, praising you as number one in all of the Thunder Merchants divisions."

<<Even though there is only one division and you are the only merchant. I cannot deal with this; better escape quickly while he is busy praising himself. Still, I cannot believe we will be working with Tibron though, what is Edgar thinking?>> Reinhardt thought.

"I'll be back soon then, boss."

Grabbing his student by the collar, Reinhardt quickly escaped towards the direction of the quarry. Edgar could be seen stroking his beard with a self-satisfied smile, but behind that smile hid a pair of sharp eyes. He trusted Sturm, but he was too young to learn of certain issues. Reinhardt, on the other hand, was just a hired mercenary, and while he had been trustworthy over the last three years, his loyalty had not been put to the test yet.

. . .

"Age, height, and number."

A visibly bored guard asked behind a counter and did not even bother to look up. While the official base requirement for joining the pit was to be at least ten years old, the guards had no way to determine the real age of the slaves. In practice, they measured the height of the child slaves and assigned them their approximate age based on that. Who cared if it was correct or not.

"He is ten, 138 centimeters tall, and his number is 2047."

The mature voice surprised the guard, and he immediately jumped up with widened eyes. Reinhardt had some fame as the merchant's guard captain and for accidentally hurting some guards in "friendly spars" to the point that no one accepted his challenges anymore.

"A… alright. We all know you are training him, so he doesn't have to pass the combat test. Number 2047, there will be fights between new junior combat slaves in three hours. You will participate to determine your approximate ranking."

*Crack, crack*

The sound of knuckles cracking vibrated through the room. The scared guard did not know what he had done wrong and visibly panicked.

"My boss says his name is Sturm. If you want to, we can have a friendly match to decide what he is called."

<<Who does he think he is to gamble over my name?>>

No one liked it if others played around with their fate. A name was something that would follow you for a lifetime. It annoyed Sturm even though he knew there was no way Reinhardt would lose against some random guard and one that was responsible for administrative duties on top of that.

"No, no! Of course, it is Sturm. What else would it be? Yes, Sturm. Such a good name. Please follow me, Sturm. I will personally escort you to the others that are participating in the combat test."

With a quick bow towards Reinhardt, the guard promptly escorted Sturm to another room. The sight was very similar to how the guard captain had fled from the merchant, and Reinhardt felt good about being on the other side this time around.

He turned around when they were out of sight and moved in the direction of the fountain. In his hands were a few bronze coins that he had saved up for some fun.

"Edgar surely won't notice that I finished the task this quick. Let's play a few rounds of dice and hope he is done with praising himself when I go back. No sane person can keep listening to that."

While the mercenary looked forward to finally doing some proper mercenary activities again, Sturm finally arrived at the room with the prospective child combat slaves. The moment the guard did his duty and delivered Sturm to the room, he turned around and spat on the ground. His overly friendly attitude from just moments before was nowhere to be seen. Being threatened because of a lowly slave made his mood plummet, causing him to shake in anger.

The guard had already moved away, and Sturm did not notice any of that, although he would not be surprised even if he had. The blatant discrimination and deprecation of guards and slavers was something every slave had gotten used to.

The child slaves that had passed the combat test and would be able to enjoy all the perks and advantages of being a combat slave were much more interesting to him at this moment. The way dozens of eyes were looking at him showed his interest was being reciprocated.

"Yo, what's up?" Sturm greeted.