Rex rubbed his eyes. His body was soaked, reeking, stomach churning. He vomited.

  "Ugh. What did those pirates inject?" He grabbed the elder's book, flipping through. First half: cellular biology. Second half: Warrior cultivation.

  So some humans long ago began absorbing cosmic free elements for breakthroughs. Powerful mental force channels universal energy into cellular mitochondria, generating Source Power.

  Rex marveled: "Mitochondria function like rechargeable batteries. Mental strength must reach Apprentice Warrior level to sense free cosmic energy. Twelve Warrior ranks total. Those with innate or acquired special abilities more easily advance to Apprentice. Special abilities automatically convert to Source Abilities under Source Power influence. Complex."

  The book provided only surface-level Warrior introduction. Zero substance. It claimed mental force was invisible, intangible, normally internal. Yet everyone possessed magnetic fields. Through constant mental fluctuation, resonance could manifest latent mental force into active form, creating evolution opportunity.

  Suddenly, fire scorched his entire body. He stripped, rinsed with water. Useless. He froze, realizing: "Burning inside. Damned pirates."

  Unknown to Rex, his cellular mitochondria were hyper-dividing. His cytoplasm carried faint green—emerald, like medical leaves.

  The burning intensified. Rex's adaptation was strong. He gritted through, dousing himself when unbearable. Minimal relief. His fingers touched the peacock talisman at his chest. Excellent craftsmanship. Lifelike. Hard, indestructible. He shook his head. A talisman. He prayed for luck.

  Wiping himself with ragged clothing, a roar erupted outside: "Burning! You scum, what did you do to me?"

  THUD. THUD-THUD. THUD-THUD-THUD...

  Someone hammered walls. Footsteps rushed past. Hammering mixed with sizzling. The vessel fell silent again.

  Rex sighed. Someone hadn't survived the catalyst. Since that ancient book introduced Warriors, pirate actions connected somehow.

  The ordeal continued. Seventeen broke within seventy-two hours. Final sizzling sounds. Then silence.

  Even if they lived, shock-lance attacks would ruin them. Expecting pirate mercy was delusion.

  Interstellar travel could consume months. Cosmic wormholes folded space between points A and B, like pinching a straight line's ends. Wormhole transit saved immense time. Otherwise, thousands of light-years? Impossible.

  As time passed, senses sharpened. He faintly heard adjacent sounds. Strange sensation.

  Are you there? Rex. Are you there, Rex?

  Rex's eyes widened. Mana's voice suddenly resonated in his mind. He cheered involuntarily: "Here! I'm here!"

  Silence returned. Rex wondered: Confinement hallucinations?

  Hours later, Mana's voice returned: "Rex. Focus completely. Communicate with me. Quickly."

  Rex concentrated immediately. He wouldn't miss this chance. Eliminating distractions, he traced the sound's origin. He seemed to see faint light—like flame in wind, threatening to extinguish.

  "Excellent. Sensed you! Don't relax. Maintain this state. Use thought, not speech."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Imagination? Strange."

  "Yes. You're doing well. Exactly like this."

  "Mana, did pirates inject you with catalyst too? Leaving Warrior books? I feel like burning. Miserable."

  Silence. Then her sigh: "Catalyst targets cellular mitochondria. I estimate severe bodily side effects. Hypothetically: original hundred-year lifespan, post-catalysis reduces to thirty years, perhaps less. Recently, my mental intensity expanded at least nineteen and a half times. Some survivors' jumps are greater. Honestly, among one hundred ninety-three survivors, your mental strength is weakest. That's why I can contact you."

  "My mental strength weakest? How?"

  "Unclear. Not necessarily negative. I can already sense cosmic energy, but formal absorption remains distant. Pirates aim to cultivate us into Warriors. Ancient legends mention Warriors. Previously unnoticed. Recently reviewed my entire life repeatedly. New insights emerged. Regardless, pirates harbor no benevolence. Be careful."

  Rex smiled bitterly: "Mental strength seems critical. Weakest often means elimination."

  Mana's voice softened, warning kindly: "Try concentrating to sense free cosmic energy. Difficult to describe. Human bodies can absorb and utilize it. Sufficient mental force enables absorption. Strength surges. I've just sensed it myself. Too inexperienced to help further."

  "Mana, you're too modest. This conversation benefits me greatly. How is Nord?"

  "Not well. My power cannot approach him. He feels like a savage beast. He talks nonsense, but his psychology is delicate. The redhead's air-blast ability devastated him. Actually, Nord's physical strength is exceptional. But he believes only the strongest man deserves me. Such stubbornness. I worry."

  In consciousness, Mana's light flickered violently. Rex soothed urgently: "Fortune favors the worthy. Nord will endure."

  "No—don't—Rex, someone forcibly severs our connection."

  The voice weakened, like ripples from distant shores. Rex's head rang. Information flooded in.

  "Turquoise Ring brats. Your hearts fill with hatred? Honestly, manipulating you amuses me. Want revenge? Then grow strong! Become Warriors. Humanity's ultimate fighters."

  Rex's skull split with pain. Blood streamed from his nose. The mental assault was overwhelming. Indescribable terror.

  More information followed: "If capable, you'd have burst from rooms, slaughtered every pirate aboard. But your performance disappoints me."

  Pause. The voice continued: "The vessel autopilots. Your strength cannot destroy it. Shortly, doors open. Three hundred thirty-nine pirates, fully armed, combat-experienced. Each carries several Blue Gold coins minimum. Higher rank, more coins. Henceforth, food and water require Blue Gold. So, live better by enjoying the game's pleasures. Game begins now."

  SPURT. Rex vomited blood. Deliberate mental assault compounded his injuries.

  Alarms screamed. Doors opened slowly. Rex's body and consciousness remained unrecovered. His heart sank.

  BOOM. Purple-black flames erupted. Chaos outside. Amon leaned in: "Rex! Out! Help!"

  Rex forced himself up, dodging electrical discharges. This was no game. Small-scale warfare.

  Several youths manifested faint water ripples. Shock-lances deflected slightly, missing targets. The ripples couldn't sustain—few shots dispersed them.

  Energy blasts created bullet-storm conditions. Pirates in armor methodically countered youth attacks, dominating absolutely.

  A youth roared: "No good! Their equipment's too strong! Disperse and ambush! Otherwise total annihilation!"

  "Right! Defenders hold! Others retreat!" Two older youths dragged unconscious companions toward corridors.

  The vessel was large. Cargo holds contained aged debris and obstacles—convenient for escape.

  Rex observed, shocked. These youths' abilities had multiplied. Amon's flames now radiated oppressive heat, genuinely threatening. Pirate armor blackened under flame assault, life endangered.

  Pirate main forces arrived. Resistance collapsed. Scattered skirmishes began.

  Amon dragged Rex to a ventilation shaft, panting: "Rex, partnership? Ambush here. You lure pirates. I'll accumulate firepower. Blue Gold split evenly."

  Rex nodded: "Good proposal. My offense is weak. Speed is adequate, but pirates aren't slow. Lucky, we get shock-lances. Unlucky, ventilation provides emergency escape. Done!"

  They fist-bumped, encouraging each other. Rex stabilized, activating his ability. Post-catalyst effects were limited for him—twenty to thirty percent improvement. Combined with SK937's excessive gravity, he moved like whirlwind. Self-preservation seemed achievable.

  Rex's form blurred, appearing near pirate cluster. His face darkened. Too many. Amon couldn't handle this. He shifted position instantly, seeking isolated targets.

  Soon, fortune favored him. A target selected—over two meters tall, standing like a black bear.

  "Perfect. Appears slow." Rex's feet didn't stop. He charged toward "Black Bear."