The next morning, Noah woke up feeling energized and ready to push his limits. After his usual morning routine, he headed straight to his private gym, eager to test the full extent of his new Advanced Solider-King Skill.
Starting conservatively, Noah loaded the barbell with 500 pounds. As he lay back on the bench, the weight felt surprisingly light. He unracked it, smoothly pressing it up and down as if it were nothing.
"Too easy," he muttered, adding another 200 pounds to bring it to 700 pounds. This, too, was manageable, though it required a bit more effort.
He kept adding weight increntally: 1,000 pounds, 1,500 pounds, and finally reaching 3,300 pounds. By now, the barbell was almost fully bent under the imnse load. It had to be known that the barbell that Noah was using was not one that was in any kind of gym, it was custom-made to resist thousands of pounds.
Noah took a deep breath, unracked the weight, and pressed it with a calm, controlled motion.
"Unreal," Noah muttered, setting the bar back on the rack. "This feels like a walk in the park."
Moving to the squat rack, Noah started with 500 pounds again, testing his form and ensuring his stance was perfect. It felt like lifting a heavy backpack.
He gradually added more weight, stepping up to 1,000 pounds, 2,000 pounds, and finally loading the bar to 4,400 pounds (2,000 kg). With the bar resting on his shoulders, Noah descended into a deep squat and powered back up, his legs barely trembling under the strain.
"Two tons on a squat," he chuckled, racking the bar and shaking his head in disbelief. "Advanced skills are unreal."
For the deadlift, Noah began with his usual warm-up: 500 pounds, which felt like lifting a sack of groceries. As he increased the load to 1,500 pounds and then 3,000 pounds, he felt his muscles firing on all cylinders.
Finally, he loaded the bar to its maximum capacity, 5,700 pounds (approximately 2,600 kg). The plates looked ridiculous, almost cartoonishly stacked. Noah braced himself, gripping the bar tightly, and pulled it off the ground in one smooth motion. The barbell clanged slightly as he stood tall, holding the weight for a mont before gently lowering it back down.
Even though he gently put it back down, the whole gym shook due to the imnse weight.
"Almost six thousand pounds," he said aloud, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is beyond superhuman."
Finally, Noah stepped onto the treadmill. Setting it to its highest speed, he started running, his feet pounding against the belt in a blur. He barely broke a sweat after a whole hour, so he increased the incline to the maximum setting.
Even at this intensity, Noah found himself running with ease. "Let's not even get into how ridiculous my cardio is now," he chuckled, stepping off the treadmill.
"This isn't just an upgrade," he muttered. "This is evolution. These numbers are insane, and I haven't even reached my full potential yet."
"This gym is long enough for , I need to find a way to work out and make actual progress." He said as he walked to the shower.
After showering and dressing in a black t-shirt and dark jeans, Noah headed downstairs to the kitchen.
The sll of cooking wafted through the air as he entered, where Selena, his housekeeper, stood by the stove, expertly flipping an olette.
The counter was neatly arranged with a spread of grilled chicken, scrambled eggs, avocado slices, and a smoothie blending quietly on the side.
"Good morning, Mr. Thompson," Selena greeted, her tone respectful but professional. She didn't look up as she focused on the olette.
"Morning, Selena," Noah replied, his voice calm but carrying authority. He sat at the counter, observing her work. "Breakfast looks promising. You've been outdoing yourself lately."
Selena turned slightly, giving a small nod. "Thank you, sir. I prepared a protein-heavy al to match your morning routine. I trust your gym session went well?"
Noah smirked faintly, resting his elbow on the counter. "It went better than expected. I pushed past a few limits today."
Selena set the olet onto a plate and placed it in front of him. "I hope those limits didn't include safety, sir. It wouldn't do to push yourself too far."
"I won't," Noah replied, picking up his fork."
Selena nodded once, her expression neutral but curious. "I see. Would you like to prepare additional als today to keep up with your increased regin?"
"No need," Noah said after tasting a bite of the olette. His brow lifted slightly. "This is good. The perfect balance of flavour and substance."
"Thank you, sir," Selena said, stepping back and folding her hands neatly in front of her. "I'll ensure your smoothie is ready shortly. It's fortified with extra protein, as requested."
"Thanks for the smoothies, it tastes good." He said as he took a big gulp.
Selena inclined her head slightly. "Thank you, sir. Is there anything else you'll require before I tend to the house?"
"No, this is fine," Noah replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin and getting up.
She stepped aside as Noah made his way toward the door, her hands returning to the task of tidying the kitchen.
Noah paused briefly at the doorway. "Good work, Selena."
She looked up, a hint of pride flickering in her expression. "Thank you, sir."
Outside in the sprawling garden, Pennyworth, Noah's long-serving gardener, was carefully pruning the roses. His aged hands moved deftly, snipping away at the dried petals and leaves while ensuring the flowers maintained their vibrant bloom.
The gentle hum of a watering can accompany his ticulous work as he tended to the greenery with grace.
Noah stepped onto the stone pathway, his gaze sweeping over the perfectly manicured garden. The air was fresh with the scent of flowers and damp earth.
"Good job, Pennyworth," Noah called out with a faint smile, his voice carrying across the garden.
Pennyworth straightened up slowly, turning to face Noah with a slight bow of respect. His weathered face broke into a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Thompson. Just making sure everything stays as pristine as you like it."
Noah paused, his gaze moving from the vibrant blooms to the carefully pruned hedges, taking in the tranquil order that Pennyworth had created. He stood silently for a mont, his hands resting casually in his pockets, before speaking, his voice calm but laced with a quiet intensity.
"You're not wrong, Pennyworth," he began, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But gardens aren't the only things that demand constant attention. He who neglects what is done for what ought to be done sooner brings about his ruin than his preservation. Tending to the present chaos ensures the future remains in order."
Pennyworth straightened slightly, the weight of Noah's words hanging in the air like a morning mist. The older man glanced at the young master, his sharp eyes catching the subtle edge beneath the seemingly benign statent.
"A practical truth, sir. And a cautionary one," he replied with a nod, his tone carrying an air of approval. "Rest assured, this garden—and anything else under my care—will not be neglected."
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