The gym buzzed with energy as dozens of youths sweated profusely, pushing their limits under the watchful eyes of their coaches.
After several grueling hours of weight training, Shelby finally clapped his hands and announced, "That's it for today. Everyone, take these tokens and head to the martial arts training hall. There, you'll meet your assigned guides. If you're good with boxing—then box. If it's karate, then do karate. Now move!"
The crowd began filing out, their muscles sore but spirits lifted with the promise of variety.
One of the freshers, a lean youth with short silver hair, veered toward the back of the hall where Zane was still pounding away on the track-mill.
"Zane," the youth called out. "We're heading to martial arts now. Didn't you hear Instructor Shelby?"
But Zane didn't reply.
His gaze was blank, his jaw clenched tight, every ounce of his being locked in combat with the monstrous weight tied to his body. The load increased every fifteen minutes—a single kilogram at a time—but it felt like mountains crashing down on his bones.
He ran on, using Luminous Step to stay upright.
To Zane, it wasn't just about resistance training anymore. This was a war against time—against the tick-tock rhythm of fifteen-minute intervals that delivered more suffering. It was no longer physical. It was psychological.
Fifteen minutes. Why does it feel so short?
A weaker voice within him screamed, panicking like a child drowning in floodwaters. To that part of his mind, fifteen minutes felt like a lifetime of agony condensed into a single breath—then repeated, over and over again.
A loop of despair and rebirth.
But Zane didn't stop. He shouted into the void and pushed harder, his feet hammering down with defiant rhythm.
The youth who had spoken earlier just stood there, stunned. He had no idea Zane was running while carrying over a ton of weight on his body.
Before he could say anything, Shelby appeared beside him, arms crossed, gaze fixated on Zane. "Leave," he said coldly. "Zane's staying here."
The youth—Zacob Weinester—shivered. There was steel in Shelby's tone, and anger brewing just beneath it. Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room.
Zane kept running.
And then—something changed.
Gradually, he adapted. His body, pushed beyond its limits, began adjusting to the pressure. The weight was still there, but now he felt it differently—like it was part of him.
And then he ran faster.
And faster.
Until the load felt almost nonexistent. As light as air.
Shelby's voice rang out, clear and calm, "Good. Now stop using that movement skill."
Zane obeyed instantly. The mana fueling Luminous Step dissipated, and the golden aura around his feet faded. But he didn't stop. His body, now running purely on momentum and instinct, kept going.
He didn't want to stop.
And so, for the entire afternoon, Zane kept running.
It wasn't in vain.
From the start, what kept him moving wasn't just his burning resolve. It was the sound that kept echoing in his ears:
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
The System kept rewarding him—each chime a surge of motivation.
[+1 Granted to All Stats]
[+1 Granted to All Stats]
[+1 Granted to All Stats]
At one point, the notifications flooded so rapidly that they piled over each other, appearing like a broken monitor screen—countless stat increases cluttering his field of vision.
It was absurd. Beautifully absurd.
And then—after hours of effort—it stopped.
No more dings. No more lights. Just silence.
Zane understood.
The growth curve had flattened. For now, he'd hit another bottleneck.
With a single leap, he flipped off the treadmill, his body spiraling like a turbine for several seconds before landing gracefully on the floor.
Shelby, who had been watching everything silently, smiled and walked over.
"Boy," he said, voice casual but proud, "you even beat me today in raw weight. Do you still have the energy to walk back to your cabin?"
But Zane didn't respond. His eyes were fixated on the glowing blue screen in front of him as the System chimed.
Ding!
[Host has gained +340 points to all stats]
[Stats Updated]
Strength (Physical): 440 (Base) + 5 (Divine Radiance) + 10 (Radiant Strike) = 455
Agility (Speed): 439 (Base) + 5 (Divine Radiance) + 10 (Luminous Step) = 454
Mana (Intelligence): 443 (Base) + 5 (Divine Radiance) + 10 (Sacred Barrier) = 458
Health Bar: 790 / 790
Mana Bar: 836 / 850
Zane's lips curled into a slight smile. The massive stat jump felt rewarding—proof that his insane training was bearing fruit.
But then—
The numbers on his mana bar began to drain rapidly.
"Hey! Are you okay?" Shelby's voice snapped him back to reality.
Before Zane could answer, a long, echoing growl thundered from his stomach. He clutched his midsection as hunger coursed through every fiber of his body like wildfire.
"Oh, that's it. We're going to the dining hall." Shelby placed a firm hand on Zane's shoulder. "Can you walk?"
Zane took one step.
Growwwl.
Another rumble—louder this time. His legs buckled slightly.
Shelby didn't wait. "Fine." He crouched, slung Zane over his back, and carried him out like a sack of potatoes.
The moment they entered the dining hall, staff members scrambled to attention.
"Sir Shelby, care to join us in the V.I.P. room?" a suited chef asked.
"Forget it. This is an emergency," Shelby replied without slowing down.
"What shall I prepare, sir?" the chef asked politely, already anxious.
"Don't prepare anything!" Shelby barked. "Just bring all the food you have. I need meat—lots of meat!"
Zane's stomach growled again like a wild beast demanding tribute.
"I'm hungry," Zane muttered. "Hungry… hungry…"
"Good," Shelby grinned. "We're about to eat the meal of our lives."
In less than ten minutes, a battalion of staff brought out an avalanche of dishes—plates piled high with meat, roasted poultry, grilled fish, skewers, fried cutlets, thick steaks, and more.
Shelby picked up a deep-fried chunk of something unidentifiable and took a massive bite.
He glanced sideways at Zane. "What're you waiting for? You said you're hungry. Dig in!"
Zane hesitated no longer.
He snatched a slab of meat—and then it began.
He devoured the meal like a man possessed, his mouth a blur, his hands a whirlwind of movement. He looked less like a person and more like a starved wolf tearing into a kill.
Shelby roared with laughter, matching his pace bite for bite.
In no time, the table was reduced to a graveyard of bones and empty plates.
Still chewing, Shelby turned to him. "So… how's the appetite now? Still hungry?"
Zane didn't speak.
He nodded.
Shelby wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've seen this before. I know exactly how to fix it."
Then, taking a deep breath, he bellowed:
"Chef Ramoz! This isn't going to cut it! Bring out the rest!"
Chef Ramoz stumbled forward, pale. "Th-The rest, sir?"
"Yes," Shelby growled. "Everything. All the remaining meat."
"There... isn't any, sir," the chef admitted, flustered. "You've already cleared all the cooked inventory."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even the staff looked horrified at the mountain of food that had just… vanished.
"I'm not talking about the cooked meat," Shelby snapped. "I'm talking about what's in cold storage. Bring out everything. I'll pay for all of it."
"R-Right away, sir!"
Within moments, staff wheeled out fifty cadavers of different Awakened Beasts. They were already skinned and gutted, preserved in icy cold mana fields—but still raw.
Chef Ramoz stepped forward in panic. "Sir! You can't! These are Grade D beast meats—they're highly volatile! Raw consumption is dangerous without purification! The mana inside them is still unstable—!"
"Who said anything about eating them raw?" Shelby said with a wicked grin.
He raised his right hand.
White lightning crackled around his fingers.
Then—BOOM!
A blinding bolt of lightning arced from his palm and struck the entire table. In an instant, all fifty cadavers were cooked—seared on the outside, tender on the inside, their corrupted mana purified under the intense holy voltage.
The dining hall fell silent again, only the faint hiss of charred meat lingering in the air.
Shelby sat down, tore into the first slab, and nodded in approval.
"Now that's more like it," he said.