The Ten-Day Grind

The next ten days were like a hell for him, not the kind of hell that one goes to after he dies—but the kind that broke your body again and again into pieces, then asked if you could smile right after that.

Day 1

Ryan woke up the next morning before the sunrise, motivated. His body still ached from yesterday's training with Arthur and Maya; a little effect of Kai's pressure was still in his mind. But Arthur was waiting for him today as usual.

"Ryan, warm up." Arthur said flatly, no sympathy in his voice.

Ryan started to jog on the treadmill until his legs gave up, and his lungs were burning as they cried to him to show them a little mercy. Then, without any break, he started practicing the moves until his knuckles turned red.

Maya came to the gym a little late, but she didn't waste any second and joined in for the training session. Her hair was tied in a ponytail behind her head—she helped Ryan do some mobility training and correct his posture.

Every mistake he made, Arthur made him do it all over again. When he went home after the training session, he didn't waste any second as he fell onto the bed—face first, arms hanging down the bed like that of a dead man.

He turned his posture a bit as he stared up at the ceiling. "One day down, nine more to go." He lifted his hand in the air as he made a fist out of it.

[System Message: Progress minimal. Effort acceptable.]

He snorted. "Damn! Thanks, system. You're not teasing me; that's actually a rare sight."

It's not like that, host. I'm giving you appreciation for your hard work.

Ryan shook his head a bit as he fell asleep.

Day 2

Slowly the morning of day two came; Ryan woke up with his whole body aching, muscles sore as if they wanted a bit more rest. But Ryan didn't have any time to rest.

When he arrived at the gym, Arthur introduced some resistance training for him—pushups with the weighted vests to bring in more effort and sprints between his punching drills and the shadowboxing with the ankle weights on.

Maya helped him by calling out fake attacks, which forced Ryan to react and dodge—it helped to make his reflexes and focus better.

By noon, his whole shirt was drenched in sweat. He could taste the blood on his tongue from biting it a little too hard. When he finally hit the last jab, Arthur nodded once, which indicated the end of today's session—a little praise was induced in that nod.

That night when he reached back to his apartment, the system echoed in his mind once again.

[Mini Quest Complete: Maintain stamina through Day 2.]

[Reward: Level-Up Pill.]

Ryan rolled the tiny red capsule in his palm as a small smile curled up on his lips. "You again, my devious pill," he muttered under his breath. "Let's see if I'll get more of these, haha."

He didn't consume the pill right away; he saved it for now.

Day 3

The morning of day three came; his body started to scream the moment he woke up from his sleep. His shoulders felt like someone had poked tons of needles into them, and his legs were shaking with every step he took. But he showed up to the training again.

His resolve was fixed; he had to do this, for him and for his friends.

Arthur barely spoke to him that day. Every command of his had a pinch of authority buried inside of it. "Again," "Faster," "Who told you to stop," "Keep breathing as you hit."

Maya watched quietly from afar as she also did her training; her own self was slowly growing fiercer day by day. When Ryan collapsed onto the floor.

She made her way to him as she leaned down and gave him a bottle of water. "You're improving with monstrous speed, Ryan," she said softly as she panted a bit.

Ryan laughed weakly as he lifted his hand and grabbed the bottle. "If by improving you mean dying, then yeah."

Day 4

That day, the gym echoed with the sound of fists. Arthur had him spar with three different members of the boxing club to provide him with the real-life experience of fighting. None of them went easy on him—they fought with the ambition to make their presence known in the eyes of Arthur.

He got punched, kicked, tripped, and tossed. But he didn't give up. Noses started to bleed; Arthur didn't stop them—he only said, "Learn from it; it'll not be this easy during the fights that await you in the future." His voice came flat and had no mercy in it.

That night, Ryan could barely lift his hands. But as he wiped his mouth and looked in the mirror, he noticed something new—a bit of definition in his arms, a sharper look in his eyes. He grinned through the pain.

[System Message:]

[Strength: B]

[Endurance: B]

[Speed: B-]

"Not bad," he whispered. "Not bad at all."

Day 5

Arthur decided that it was finally time for the techniques. "Boxing isn't just hitting blindly," Arthur said. "It's the rhythm with which you perform your moves. The precision and the patience—you have to master it all."

Ryan started to practice his stance, balance, and breathing. Maya sparred with him using her kickboxing arts—her movements were fast, her legs cutting through the air like blades.

He lost every round against her, but he started seeing through her moves; his eyes started looking for the openings—something that he hadn't seen ever before.

When Maya's kick missed by an inch, she smiled. "You're learning, bastard," she said with a big grin on her face, starting to get a bit serious.

A small grin curled up on his lips. "Or maybe you're slowing down," his voice came, mocking her.

"Keep dreaming about it, Ryan." She shot back with another roundhouse kick.

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