Zane lay on the floor, motionless. Staring at the white ceiling of his apartment with his mind going blank. That was close, he thought. Way too close.

He stayed down for a good half an hour before the growling of his stomach made him get up on his feet. Dragging his feet with his shoes still on, he went to the kitchen, scrounging up anything he could find, and ate to his fill. He ended his meal with a cold glass of water, appeasing the drought in his throat.

With his basic needs fulfilled, the stank finally got to him. A quick whiff on his armpits, and he scowled. He went for a trip down the shower and after an hour he got out, fresh and clean. He found himself on the couch, slumping on the soft cushions. Smiling, as the comfort was a whole lot better than those hard barks.

“That was…” he paused. Not knowing what words that could really describe the experience he went through. “…crazy, I think?”

The vibration of his phone made him glance. He picked up and noticed the whole list of missing calls from his mom. “Oh, shit,” he just remembered. Looking at the date, he missed a whole day as the time-lapse was more or less the same with the other world. He called his mom immediately and tried his best to soothe down the worried heart of a mother. It took an hour to do that, but that was how mother was.

The moment he sunk into his couch, the drowsiness finally caught up to him. Zane fell asleep and slept through the night.

* * *

The next day he got up as if nothing had happened. He thought his body would at least ache after all those stunts he pulled. Yet, his body seemed to be fine. It made him wonder whether it had to do anything with his high vitality. Well, even if it wasn’t, he was just glad he was still alive in one piece.

He went to McDonald's after getting his clothes on since it had been a while since his last McMuffin. He didn’t really like the other menu in that fast food joint, but he did love the breakfast menu especially with the muffins. While eating, he scrolled through the search result in his phone as he searched for possibilities in owning a gun in Singapore.

“I can’t,” he complained. Frowning, over the fact that there was no way for a normal civilian to own anything remotely resembled a gun. “Heck, I can’t even buy a stun gun or a pepper spray,” he grumbled. Zane had never cared for the strict gun law before, but now it had become a hindrance. Now he understood why those Americans love their guns so much. Should I apply for a green card? He asked himself.

Zane shook his head after a brief ponder. Even though this country had a lot of problems, he still felt grateful for living here. Nonetheless, he needed to find a way to ensure his survival in another world. The feeling of leveling up and becoming stronger was hard to deny after having a taste of it. He would be an idiot if he abandoned such a gift.

“On second thought, there is Malaysia,” he said. Remembering the neighboring country of Singapore, just a bridge away. With that in mind, he opened up the shopping website exclusively used for Malaysians. Typing a few things, the result brought a smile to his face. “I guess I’m gonna owe someone a favor,” he said.

He called a cousin of his who stayed in Johor, a state in Malaysia which was the border between both countries. After a few uncouth greetings, typical of cousins, he then asked the cousin to buy a few things. A few worrisome things. At first, the cousin was reluctant, but after a few goading of high-value promises, the cousin finally took the bait.

“I guess that settles it,” he sipped his coffee and started searching for another thing. “Bingo,” he found what he was looking for and he booked a session.

That afternoon, he stepped through a door in a full training outfit. The dull sounds of people punching sandbags greeted his ears as there were quite a lot of people during the day. They sweat through their hard work, pushing themselves to the limit of their own self. At the center of it all was the square ring. Fighters sparred against each other, throwing punches from straights to hooks while the receiver ducked and weaved. It was like a violent dance, and Zane was about to learn it.

After registration, he stood with the rest of the eager beginners as the instructor introduced them to what boxing was and ran through their itinerary for the day. Then it started. From learning the basic stance to the basic punches, Zane even learned the steps. Zane did it all without question. Yet the thing he waited for didn’t come. He assumed that he could learn skills through repetitions of certain actions. But after finishing half of the itinerary he still didn’t get a thing. Nonetheless, his performance caught the eye of a few people in the gym.

“You box before?” the instructor asked. Taking in the heavy jabs from Zane’s glove. The sounds were crisp and clean as the punches connected well at the instructor’s punch pads.

“Nope,” Zane replied. Putting out another flurry of jabs followed by a strong straight punch. The instructor was blown back by a few steps as his jaw dropped.

“You sure, man?” the instructor asked as that straight punch was definitely not from a beginner.

Zane’s enhanced stats showed its worth, dazzling the eyes of these boxing veterans and enthusiasts. As if they had just witnessed a second Tyson in the making.

“I’m not lying,” Zane said. “This is my first time.” He continued weaving through the imaginary punches as he sent off more punches at the instructor. Slowly, he drew a crowd as the training got more intense.

“I’m gonna raise it by a notch,” said the instructor, smiling.

Zane nodded. And the instructor went wild. The boxing veteran threw his own clean-cut punches while at the same giving instructions to Zane.

He followed without question. Following with his eyes wide open, ducking and weaving like a pro. The high agility stat made the instructor look a bit slower, making it easier for Zane to dodge and execute his movements. As both of them dancing on the floor, the crowd was getting riled up. Cheering and whistling, while some pulled put their phone and shot a video.

Two minutes passed and the instructor dropped his hands down. Panting for his breath. “What are you, man? . . . Are you even breathing?” the instructor asked, utterly amazed by Zane.

His highest stats, vitality proved to be a league on its own. Even after all those intense combo routines, Zane was still breathing normally.

“Hey,” the instructor tapped him by the shoulder. “You’re up for a spar?”

“You do know I’m a beginner, right?” Zane questioned.

“Just come up, and show me what you got,” the instructor was really letting eagerness show. Never in his life, he had met a gem like this and from what he was seeing, Zane was a fucking genius.

He got his headgear on along with the mouthpiece. Across from him was the instructor, Manny, a veteran in boxing. The guy who was close to reaching his mid-forties was throwing punches in the air, warming up before the spar, and from what Zane was seeing, Manny was no joke. He could understand why the instructor didn’t even wear the headgear.

“Three minutes,” Manny said. “Okay?”

Zane nodded and the bell rang. They touched gloves and the spar began. Zane took the first strike, lunging forward as he threw a one-two combo. Manny got hit and thrown back a few steps close to the corner, and Zane didn’t waste the chance. The so-called beginner hammered Manny down with jabs, pushing him close to the corner.

The mid-forties man ducked and weaved as fast as he could, dodging it by a hairbreadth, yet the jabs were getting faster, and the glove started to brush against Manny’s face. Then out of nowhere, one of them connected, slamming against Manny right on the face, the veteran fell in a daze for a while, yet the incoming straight made him snap. He was too late to duck as he brought his gloves up high to a crossguard. The straight hit, and he felt his back smashing against the corner end.

Manny peaked in between the gloves and saw another straight coming. He readied himself for a counter. Then he struck. A straight for a straight, and Manny’s fist landed right on Zane. But he miscalculated. Zane’s fist was a lot quicker than he thought as Zane managed to slam a shallow one at him. His knees were about to buckle, but Manny held on. He got his pride as a veteran and he wasn’t going to let a beginner beat him. The veteran slipped off to the side and raced to the other corner. Getting away from the onslaught of the rookie monster.

The gym was awfully silent as most of the long-time members were all baffled by what they were seeing. The long-time silver-medalist for the Olympic lightweight division for Singapore was now getting thrashed by a beginner.

Zane sensed the change in the atmosphere as his performance went beyond the crowd's expectations. He wondered whether this was a good idea since being this strong might draw some unwanted attention. Or perhaps he was just overthinking it since he did read a lot of conspiracy theories and all that. But the big question was, that counter he received? It kinda hurt.

Manny changed his tactic, circling around Zane, searching for the opportunity to strike. The veteran threw a few jabs here and there, gauging how Zane would react. The intense flow at the beginning had now turned into a cat and mouse game. Yet even that was about to end.

The still Zane who barely moved from the center bolted off at lightning speed.

Manny ran back to the corner as he readied to dodge it for a counter.

Zane jabbed, smacking Manny’s glove followed by his straight.

The glint in Manny’s eyes changed as his fist went for the counter. But then came the twist. In that split second, he saw Zane pull back his straight as he realized what was coming for him, and he couldn’t even see it in his eyes.

Zane countered the counter as a hidden hook went for Manny’s blind spot. Yet…

Ding!

The bell rang and Zane’s glove was barely an inch away from Manny’s face. “You got me,” Zane said. As half of his face was getting squished by Manny’s glove. It managed to hit, but it was a rather shallow one. It hurt a bit for Zane, but nothing too serious when compared to claws piercing through one’s flesh.

“Good spar,” Zane tapped Manny by the shoulder and left the ring.

One of the long-time members of the boxing gym noticed Manny acting odd. “Manny, you good?” he asked. There was no reply. He went inside the ring and touched him by the shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

Manny snapped out of his daze. “Yea, yea, I’m good,” said the veteran. Then his eyes lingered at the back of Zane who was standing still near the sandbags. He had mixed feelings about that spar, a combination of humiliation and awe at the same time. But one thing Manny was sure of, he knew Zane was pulling his punches and that frightened him.

Meanwhile, Zane stared at the empty air. To others, it might be empty, but to him, it put a smile on his face. As he finally got his worth.

[Requirement complete!]

[Brawler class available. Would you like to accept?]

Zane didn’t even wait. Without hesitation, he answered.

“Yes.”

[Congratulation. You are now a Brawler.]