Heretic Trainer: The Gym Is My Cultivation Method

The moment they stepped fully into the city, everyone slowed down without meaning to.

Dahlia turned her head left, then right. "So… this is a demon city."

Arden scanned the streets carefully. "It's not that different from a human city."

He was right.

There were buildings stacked close together, narrow streets filled with noise, stalls selling food and strange items, and groups of people talking loudly.

The only difference was that none of them were human.

Horns, wings, tails, sharp teeth. Some demons looked almost human, others barely did.

And the violence.

Two demons were arguing near a stall. One shoved the other.

A moment later, fists were flying.

A guard walked over slowly, watched for a few seconds, then crossed his arms.

The fight ended when one demon slipped something into the guard's hand.

The guard nodded. "Take it somewhere else."

Both demons bowed slightly and dragged their injured friend away.

Dion stared. "…That was fast."

Garion shrugged. "Same system. Different faces."

As they walked deeper, a small demon suddenly rushed toward Dahlia.

His hand reached for her waist.

Dahlia felt it instantly.

She didn't even turn.

A burst of force knocked the demon clean off his feet. He slammed into a wall and slid down, unconscious.

Several demons nearby glanced over.

One snorted. "Idiot."

Another laughed. "Should've picked an easier target."

No one helped the fallen demon. No one even checked on him.

Dahlia clicked her tongue. "Wow. Friendly place."

Arden tightened his grip slightly. "No one cares unless it's their problem."

Eliza walked quietly beside them, eyes moving, taking everything in.

Her steps made no sound at all.

Dion leaned closer to Garion. "So… what's the plan?"

Garion looked around calmly, as if he were sightseeing. "First rule of any city."

He pointed down the street.

"We go to a bar."

Dahlia blinked. "A bar?"

Garion nodded. "Food, drinks, loose mouths. Information moves faster there than anywhere else."

Arden thought about it, then nodded. "Makes sense. People talk when they drink."

Dion smiled faintly. "And if they don't talk…"

Garion smirked. "They drink more."

They followed Garion down a wider street filled with noise and laughter.

Music echoed from open doors. Demons stumbled out of buildings, arguing, flirting, shouting.

They stopped in front of a large bar with broken signboards and red lights glowing from inside.

The door creaked open.

Warm air mixed with the smell of alcohol and blood washed over them.

Dahlia cracked her neck lightly. "I already don't like this place."

Garion stepped forward without hesitation. "Good. That means it's the right one."

He pushed the door open wide and walked in first.

The noise hit them immediately.

Laughter, shouting, cups slamming on tables, and rough music filled the bar.

Demons crowded every corner. Some were drinking, some were gambling, some were arguing loudly.

A few glanced at the newcomers, then lost interest when they saw the red pass stones.

Garion went straight to the counter.

"Hard drink," he said calmly.

The bartender was a thick-armed demon with one broken horn and tired eyes.

He poured a dark liquid into a heavy cup and slid it over.

Garion didn't drink it.

Instead, he placed a small pouch beside the cup.

The bartender's hand paused for just a second before casually pulling the pouch closer.

He weighed it in his palm, then nodded once.

"Information?" the bartender asked quietly.

Garion nodded. "Who's selling it?"

The bartender picked up a glass and wiped it slowly.

While doing so, he tilted his head slightly toward the back of the bar.

There was a door there. Old. Scratched. Two massive demons stood in front of it, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

The bartender leaned closer and slipped a small folded note across the counter.

Garion took it and opened it casually.

"Give them drinks. Good ones. Not here. Search on your own."

Dahlia peeked at the note. "…That's it?"

Garion folded it and tucked it away. "That's more than enough."

Arden frowned. "Those two guards don't look friendly."

Dion glanced at the demons by the door. "Yeah. They look like the kind that breaks people for fun."

Garion picked up the cup and finally took a sip.

He paused.

His brow twitched.

"…This is terrible," Garion said flatly.

Dahlia leaned over. "That bad?"

Garion set the cup down like it offended him. "Burns going down. Flat taste. No balance. I've had disinfectant better than this."

Arden coughed. "You're very specific about that."

Garion turned back toward the counter and raised one finger. "Bartender."

The demon looked over, already tired. "What."

"Your best bottle," Garion said. "Wine."

The bartender hesitated, then reached under the counter and pulled out a dusty bottle. "That one costs more."

Garion tossed another pouch of money on the table.

The bartender frowned instead of smiling.

Garion noticed immediately.

"…Not good enough to impress the guards," Garion said.

The bartender clicked his tongue. "They've tasted better."

Garion nodded once. "Got it."

He took the bottle and walked back to the table without another word.

Dahlia watched him sit. "So what now, Master? Brute force?"

Garion shook his head. "No. Quality."

He turned to Dion. "Your turn."

Dion blinked. "Here?"

Garion slid the bottle over. "Fix it. Just make it taste good. Nothing flashy."

Dion stared at the bottle like it was an enemy. "You know this place doesn't even have proper grapes, right?"

Garion leaned back. "You're not fixing the grapes. You're fixing the wine."

Dion sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up the bottle.

His fingers rested on the glass as his [Unique Physique: Wine] stirred quietly.

The liquid inside shifted.

The sharp smell faded.

Dahlia leaned closer. "…Wait. That already smells different."

Arden sniffed the air. "It's smoother."

Dion concentrated, sweat forming on his forehead. "I'm not changing it into something divine. Just drinkable. Balanced. Warm."

A moment later, he pulled his hand away.

"Done," Dion said. "If they complain after this, they're just picky."

Garion uncorked it and poured a small amount into his cup.

He drank.

This time, he nodded.

"…Acceptable."

Dahlia grinned. "That's high praise coming from you."

Garion stood up with the bottle in hand. "Alright. Let's go."

He walked toward the guarded door again.