From Trash to Lord of Thunder: The Rise of the Cursed Extra-Chapter 49: The New Floor

Charles walked alongside Neymar, Joren, Rowen, and Soren, climbing the stairs to a higher floor of the building.

The echo of their footsteps bounced in the hallway, and the air grew fresher as they ascended.

’Why don’t they have more windows like this?’ he thought, enjoying the breeze through the large windows that made his black tunic flutter.

He could even see clan members moving between buildings outside.

But that wasn’t what really mattered to Charles.

What really mattered was...

’Seriously, this rank gets a whole floor for training?’ he thought, curious.

As Nora had told him, the Storm Clan was massive. Not just its towering buildings or the various zones for exploring, fighting, or training, but the sheer number of people living there.

Not everyone fought or served as servants. The clan also had a rural area where they protected a population in exchange for their children to swell the clan’s ranks.

When he’d asked Nora about visiting, she’d said his rank was too low but promised to take him if he climbed higher.

Tonight’s duel weighed on his mind, but the chance to see how the Warrior rank worked intrigued him.

"Almost there," Neymar said, leading the group. "The training floor’s up top. Warriors spend most of their time here."

Joren, walking beside him, turned to Charles with a grin.

"Ever been up there?" he asked, enthusiastic. "It’s pretty impressive the first time."

Charles shook his head.

"Nah, first day as a Warrior," he said, shrugging. "All this is new to me."

Soren, the shy one, looked up.

"You’ll like it," he mumbled, barely audible. "There’s everything for practice."

Rowen, trailing behind with arms crossed, grunted.

"Yeah, but it looks like hell," he said dryly. "Most competitive place in the clan. No one’s rolling out the welcome mat."

Charles raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply, expecting as much.

He adjusted the bandages on his hands, no longer needed but kept to hide his condition.

When they reached the upper floor, Neymar pushed open double wooden doors, revealing a vast, well-lit space.

The training area was huge, split into clear sections.

One side had gyms with weights, ropes, and bars for physical drills.

Another held racks of training weapons: wooden swords, padded spears, and worn shields.

There were padded sparring zones, wooden structures for agility practice, and even a small elevated ring where two Warriors traded hand-to-hand techniques.

The air smelled of sweat, polished wood, and a faint tang of metal.

Charles eyed the Warriors present, all in black tunics like his, but with colored trim at the hem: some red, others blue, white, or brown.

’So there really are only four elements...’ he thought instantly.

Red was for fire users, blue for water, white for wind, and brown for earth.

He also noticed servants in white tunics moving quietly through the halls, cleaning floors or picking up stray gear.

The atmosphere was intense but not chaotic. Everyone seemed to know their purpose.

As he entered with the group, Charles felt eyes on him.

A new face.

Some Warriors glanced with curiosity, others with barely veiled disdain, and a few with cold stares that made him tense.

’Some welcome...’ he thought, keeping his posture relaxed to hide discomfort.

He noticed women training, some his age, but quickly shook his head before glancing at Neymar.

"You know all these people?" he asked, nodding toward the others.

Neymar scratched his neck, giving a lopsided smile.

"Not really," he said quietly. "Everyone kinda knows each other here. Place is competitive. Most form groups to train and improve together. Goal’s to hit Custodian rank, but it’s not easy."

Charles realized the group’s likely intent was to recruit him.

Joren stepped forward.

"Yeah, everyone wants to stand out," he said, cracking a finger. "Warriors are the clan’s muscle. We get heavy tasks, and if you screw up, you’re stuck."

It was the system Charles expected, but something felt off.

"So, how long’s it usually take to hit the next rank?" he asked, curious.

Rowen explained, "Takes years, Rian. It’s not like lower ranks where awakening powers or a few fights gets you up. Here, they grind you down."

Charles frowned, a funny image popping into his head.

Was this clan basically a corporation?

The thought of everyone scurrying around, loaded with tasks, nearly made him laugh.

He shook his head, trying to stay serious.

"What kinda tasks do you do?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Besides training, obviously."

Soren, quiet until now, looked up.

"Hunt beasts, fetch items for superiors, guard caravans..." he said, counting on his fingers. "Oh, and sometimes... fight outsiders."

Charles raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

That was a lot of tasks!

Beast hunting piqued his interest—it’d be perfect for scouting the clan’s outskirts and finding an escape route.

Fetching items sounded dull.

But guarding caravans...

In a world with phones, why protect caravans?

Confusion and curiosity piled up, but what really stood out was how clan members—Nora, Lira, and now these guys—spoke of "outsiders" with contempt.

What had outsiders done to the clan?

"What do you mean by outsiders...?" Charles asked, tilting his head. "Explain."

Neymar sighed, leaning against a wall.

"What, you forgot? We call them that ’cause they’re greedy," he said, scornful. "They wanna stop the clan’s expansion or destroy it. As members, it’s our duty to defend the clan’s interests."

The explanation left Charles dumbfounded—it was absurdly simplistic.

Couldn’t they at least use a more creative insult?

Joren nodded, eyes gleaming.

"Yeah, it’s a big responsibility," he said. "Without us, the clan wouldn’t stay strong."

Charles stayed silent, processing.

Was he in the rank that served as cannon fodder in the clan’s fights against outsiders?

’Damn it!’ he thought, hating the idea of being a chess pawn.

If he fought in those battles, escaping to the outside would be impossible... unless he changed his identity.

And since he had no clue how to pull that off, he needed to speed up his exit from this place.

A memory from his past life flashed.

That was why the hero came here.

In the game, the Storm Clan had become a headache for world leaders, but since public opinion deemed nuclear strikes inhumane, they sent the hero against them.

As the memory played, Charles broke into a sweat, realizing that if the hero showed up and he was still here, Rian’s fate might come true.

That was something he had to avoid at all costs.

Neymar snapped him out of it, pointing to a secluded corner.

"Let’s go there," he said, practical. "Good spot to warm up without interruptions."

Charles nodded, following silently while ignoring another group of guys staring at him blatantly.

’These people...’ he thought, sighing.

For now, Charles’s top priority was leveling up his system once and for all.