SSS-Rank Talent: Super Upgrade System-Chapter 164: Ayra’s Revenge!

The atmosphere at the dinner table that evening was... strange.

Daniel, still feeling the phantom weight of his earlier labor, found himself picking at his food.

A lavish spread of real, delicious food, prepared by the villa’s auto-chef, lay before them, but his mind was elsewhere.

He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled over him, a feeling that had a lot to do with the fiery-haired Rock Pugilist sitting across from him.

Ayra kept giving him strange glances throughout the meal.

They weren’t her usual challenging glares or boisterous grins.

They were swift, calculating glances, like a cat eyeing an unsuspecting, easy prey. It made the hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck stand on end.

"So, what exactly did you do for a month?" Lia asked, trying to break the tense silence. "If you weren’t fighting beasts or training your skills, what was this foundation tempering?"

Daniel took a sip of water, considering his answer. He looked at their eager, curious faces.

They wouldn’t believe him. It sounded too absurd, too mundane for the kind of training the legendary Principal Finch would design for his prized disciple. But it was the truth.

"I pulled radishes," he said, his voice flat.

As predicted, they stared at him blankly.

"Radishes?" Ayra repeated, her fork hovering halfway to her mouth. "You’re telling us the Principal’s super-secret, ultimate cultivation technique... was farming?"

"That’s right," Daniel said with a shrug. "For a month. From dawn till dusk. It was... character-building."

Olenna chuckled softly. "You’re being secretive, Captain. It’s alright. We understand that some training methods are best kept confidential."

They didn’t believe him. They thought he was hiding some grand, world-shattering secret.

Daniel just sighed and went back to his food. It was better this way.

The rest of the dinner passed with the girls sharing stories of their own progress.

Lia was excelling in the Logistics and Support School, her healing arts becoming more refined and potent.

Olenna was already making a name for herself in the Command School’s strategic simulations.

And Ayra, of course, was the undisputed queen of the Combat Techniques School’s sparring arenas, leaving a trail of bruised egos and broken training dummies in her wake.

Daniel listened, feeling a genuine sense of pride in his teammates, but the uneasy feeling in his gut wouldn’t go away.

Later that night, exhausted from the emotional and physical toll of his return, Daniel decided a long, hot bath was in order.

The villa’s bathroom was a luxurious haven, a sharp contrast to the cold bucket and harsh brown soap of the garden.

As the hot water soothed his tired body, he finally began to relax.

He emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy towel, feeling clean and refreshed.

He walked into his darkened bedroom, his mind already drifting towards a deep, well-deserved sleep.

He noticed a lump under the covers of his large, comfortable bed.

A slow, warm smile spread across his face. Olenna. She must have come to his room, a silent invitation to continue their... cooperation.

Their passionate nights together had become a comforting, familiar routine.

Feeling a surge of eager anticipation, he let his towel drop to the floor.

He moved silently to the bed, excitement building.

He pulled back the covers and, with a playful growl, pounced onto the waiting figure, his arms wrapping around a warm, surprisingly muscular body.

"I was wondering when you’d show up," he murmured, his lips finding the soft skin of a shoulder.

The figure beneath him stiffened. Then, a voice, a very familiar, and very, very wrong voice, spoke, her tone a dangerous purr.

"Oh, I’ve been waiting for you, Vance. For a long, long time."

The bedroom lights snapped on.

Daniel froze, his heart dropping into his stomach. Lying beneath him, a triumphant, predatory grin on her face, was not Olenna.

It was Ayra.

He scrambled off her as if he’d been electrocuted, his mind reeling with shock and a dawning, horrified understanding.

"Ayra?! What in the blazes are you doing in my bed?!"

Ayra sat up slowly, the sheets gathered at her waist, her face a mix of restrained anger and sly amusement.

"Getting revenge, of course," she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Remember the bathroom, Vance? You took advantage of me when I was vulnerable."

"That was an accident!" Daniel protested, his voice cracking. "And you nearly broke my ribs!"

"Details, details," she waved dismissively.

"The point is, you had the upper hand then. But now..." She flexed her S-Grade Crystal Gauntleted hands, the faint crimson glow of her berserker aura beginning to pulse around her.

"Now, your strength is sealed. You’re just a little Level 5, Level 8 or whatever farm boy.

And I," she stood up, a towering, powerful figure of righteous indignation, "am an S-Grade Rock Pugilist who is feeling very, very disrespected."

Daniel backed away, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He did a quick mental calculation.

His sealed strength versus hers? It was like a house cat trying to fight a charging rhinoceros.

He was completely, utterly, and hopelessly outmatched. His earlier bad feeling had been a massive understatement.

"Ayra, let’s be reasonable," he tried, his mind racing for an escape route.

"Oh, I’m feeling very reasonable," she purred, taking a slow, deliberate step towards him.

She cracked her knuckles, a sound like grinding stone that resonated in the silent room.

"You see, Vance, I’ve been thinking about what you told me once. About how the more your opponent resists, the more excited you become."

A slow, dangerous grin spread across her face.

"I think," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as she closed the distance between them, "I’m starting to understand what you meant."

Daniel looked at the locked bedroom door, then at the triumphant, predatory look in Ayra’s fiery eyes.

He was trapped. There would be no escape tonight.

His month of humble cultivation was about to end with a very different, and far more terrifying, kind of foundation tempering.

Daniel’s heart raced as Ayra advanced. The crimson glow of her Crystal Gauntlets cast sharp shadows, intensifying her predatory air.

Her eyes locked onto him like prey, and he stumbled back, bumping into the bed, his mind racing for a way out.

His sealed cultivation, part of his humility training, left him level 5 strong but no match for Ayra’s Rock Pugilist strength.

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