The hallway was alive because of the random murmuring of students—the club representatives were shouting aloud for recruits, the echo of sneakers in the gym and the dull thuds of gloves slamming into the punching bags.
Ryan walked alongside Maya, the hum of competition in the air was putting a great amount of pressure on his chest like an invisible weight.
"So," Ryan said, trying to keep his tone a bit casual. "This inter-club thing... are you also going to take a part in this, Maya?" Ryan said, voice low.
He took a small break as he continued. "Are you going to be my partner or... you know, my opponent?"
Maya’s lips curled into a faint smirk, her tone was matter-of-fact. "I’m in the kickboxing club, Ryan. You’re in the boxing club. So, of course I’ll be your opponent."
He blinked at her, the words sinking in slower than he wanted them to be. "So... no chance of you switching the teams?"
Her eyes softened for a brief second—then she looked away from him. "You wouldn’t want to. This is a competition, I don’t think that I’ll hold back, even if we are friends." Maya said, voice filled with confidence.
A bead of sweat slid down Ryan’s temple. He gave a small, awkward chuckle. "I see... guess I’ll have to watch out for you too, hehe."
They both parted their ways at the gym entrance, her figure disappeared in the noise of the kickboxing club.
Ryan lingered in the hallway for a slight mont, the hum of conversation behind him felt a little distant.
By the ti he slid back to his seat in his classroom, the bell already rang. The teacher’s voice faded into the background noise as Ryan was lost in his own thoughts.
He was thinking about Maya’s words, on the looming tournant, on the truth that he’s weak and his current strength is not enough.
Then—
[DING!]
[Host, training session intensity should be increased for the upcoming days. You need to get into better shape before the tournant occurs.]
Ryan’s eyes flickered to the corner of his vision where the translucent panel hovered. ’Yeah... you’re right and I have to do it, because I don’t have any other choice.’
It was 7:02 PM when he finally got back ho from school. The streetlamps flickered to life as the sun settled down, the light of lamps was stretching the shadows across the road.
Ryan didn’t even step inside, he grabbed his worn sneakers, laced them with chanical precision and stepped outside to do his daily training.
[DING!]
[Daily Training: 5 km run, 200 sit-ups, 200 push-ups, 200 pull-ups.]
"You’re trying to kill at this point, aren’t you?" Ryan muttered, voice low.
[If you die from this, Host, you were already useless to begin with.]
He rolled his eyes. "Wow, so fucking motivational."
The first kiloter wasn’t that bad—cool air against his skin, the rhythm of his footsteps on the pavent. But by the ti he reached the second kiloter, his lungs started burning.
By the third, sweat stung his eyes, breath ca in ragged pulls, heart thumped as it was about to burst and his calves scread for him to stop.
The city around him blurred into neon signs and passing headlights. He felt every grain of grit in the air as it slowly scraped his throat.
[Host, your pace is dropping.]
"Shut... up..." he forced his legs forward. ’One more step... just one more.’
His entire body scread in agony, he wanted to stop, wanted to rest. But the thought of staying like this his whole life made him push harder.
By the ti he reached the mark of the fifth kiloter, his legs wobbled like they were made out of jelly. He bent forward, hands on his knees, gasping for air like a man who just got pulled out from underwater.
"Alright... ti for the sit-ups and a reminder, I FUCKING HATE YOU, SYSTEM!!" Ryan said in fury as he made his way to the park.
[You should not hate , host. I’m doing this all for you and your better future. >⩊
Reviews
All reviews (0)