The Extra's Harem In Dead End Game

But I knew that even that short period of time was a precious opportunity for me.

That is why I moved quickly and recruited two masters who were full of fundamentals.

Of course, that doesn\'t mean I was hoping for something big without a conscience.

The plan is to start the second semester by just learning the basics of swordsmanship and archery.

But there was an unexpected twist to that plan.

A variable that even I, a hardcore user, never expected.

I named that variable \'the miracle of steak.\'

… Long live the high elves, long live the meat.

* * *

Turk stared at Max with an expression that seemed to say he simply couldn\'t understand.

It had been four days since the course started.

Although it might have been a short period of time, they had trained intensely every single day without fail.

The training method was based on the belief that one rest day per week was sufficient.

It might seem reckless, but he was confident that it would be effective because it was a method based on experience.

However, its effectiveness also had its limits.

In just the first few days, Max body had not adapted to the intensity of the training, and he had not become noticeably stronger.

The body is continuously pickled and gradually becomes stronger through six days of training and one day of rest, repeated over and over again.

Now was the time when accumulated fatigue was taking its toll on his body.

But.

What on earth did that mean?

Slash—!

The sword that struck down was filled with power.

A noticeably better downward slope than on the first day.

Yeah, this could be it.

Even if Max body got tired, he had been taught the right method, so his sword would move more sharply.

But, you know.

\'… … Does that make sense?\'

Today\'s training was almost over.

Since he increased the training intensity a little bit every day, it was normal to feel exhausted and collapse like on the first day.

But...

"Put the pressure down!"

A roaring sound that still gave off a sense of remaining strength.

A stable grip with little to no muscle spasms or tremors.

Light and controlled footwork.

He could feel the flowing energy just by looking at it.

Was that possible… …?

If he had to find a reason, it would be that his training method was more perfect than he thought, which brought about such dramatic results...

\'No, that\'s nonsense.\'

Turk shook his head.

Turk himself knew better than to believe that this could not be the case.

If the training method was that good, there should have been more people who saw such effects.

But wasn\'t there not a single one?

Then.

\'Is this really talent?\'

Talent.

It was exactly what everyone dreamed of having.

But there were very few people who actually had it.

Having lived on only rice cakes for decades, he knew that fact better than anyone else.

How many times had he suffered frustration because of his own meager talents?

The reason he lived the life of a second-rate mercenary and was now running this shabby swordsmanship shop was because he lacked talent.

But that very talent.

The man who really had it was right in front of him.

\'… … My eyes are still lacking.\'

He had a jewel and didn\'t even notice it.

He was somewhat proud of the insight that came from his numerous experiences, but he had no choice but to say that it was a useless experience.

The lamenting Turk calmed his mind.

Before he knew it, it was time for the class to end.

"Stop."

Only after Turk\'s words did his sword stop.

"Is this the end of training for today?"

Max asked.

"Yes."

"Thank you for your hard work."

Max said, trying to leave the swordsmanship hall without delay as he had no time.

But Turk stopped him.

"Wait a moment."

"What?"

"I have something to say."

"Speak."

"I\'d like to adjust the level of your course. Is that okay?"

"It\'s okay and all, but isn\'t it natural to leave everything related to the class up to the teacher? There\'s no need to ask for my opinion on such a thing."

He said, as if asking why he was asking such a thing.

But Turk\'s intentions were somewhat different.

"We\'re going to go straight into a more intense stage than before. It\'s going to be much harder and more tiring. Is that okay?"

Turk was saying that he would jump over the steps in one go.

It was an unusual event.

No, that hadn\'t happened even once since he opened the swordsmanship shop.

Because there wasn\'t a single student who was worthy of that.

But he finally found it.

That was quite possibly talent.

He didn\'t force it.

This was because he knew that if he was not mentally prepared enough to endure more intense training, it could actually have a negative effect.

"Hmm."

Max looked troubled, as if it was a difficult decision.

Then he opened his mouth and asked Turk.

"Why are you suddenly increasing the intensity? Is there any reason for that?"

"That\'s because I felt that you were physically… no, better prepared than I thought."

Turk barely swallowed the word talent.

Because he was worried that if he said it with his own mouth, he might become arrogant.

Not everyone who was talented succeeded.

In particular, pride was one of the dangerous barriers blocking the path of talented people.

Knowing this, he repeatedly emphasized to his daughter Elaine that she should always remain humble and cautious.

Turk hoped that he would truly blossom into his talents without any problems.

That\'s why he chose his words carefully.

"I see. Okay, I see. Let\'s do that."

The answer came easier than he thought.

But it didn\'t seem like he answered lightly.

The serious look in his eyes told him so.

Turk also spoke seriously.

"I will do my best to make sure that the results come back to me."