Chapter 8 – Totally Random Encounter
The world around Zane blurred as he ran, each second dragging out like molasses. He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, his chest burning as though his lungs had turned to fire. Every inhale was a struggle; every exhale, a plea for oxygen. His throat felt raw and tight, his skin slick with sweat, and yet his legs kept moving, driven by sheer willpower.
It was almost absurd—how weak this body still was. For the old Zane, running five miles was barely a warm-up. That body had been honed by a decade of brutal discipline, tailored to perfection through blood, sweat, and relentless repetition. He had achieved the kind of physical prowess most could only dream of. And yet now, he was trapped in the fragile vessel of a fourteen-year-old boy who barely had the endurance to jog around a park.
Still, he pressed forward.
"I need to push it further…" Zane muttered through clenched teeth. "I need to find the breaking point."
This wasn't about proving something. He wasn't driven by pride or ego. It was methodical. Calculated. He needed to understand the limits of this body—to break it down so he could rebuild it stronger. That was the assassin's way. Knowledge was power, and to conquer that field of work, you first had to master your own weapon. Right now, that weapon was a soft, sluggish body screaming for rest.
He ignored it.
Pain rippled through his thighs, fire licked at his calves, and his hips protested with every stride. But he didn't slow down. Didn't allow his mind even a second of weakness. That kind of discipline had been forged in another life, and it hadn't left him, even now.
All around him, life in the park carried on. Some early risers were jogging, walking dogs, chatting in pairs or small groups. Several turned their heads as he passed, eyes widening in confusion or amusement. To them, he probably looked like a lunatic—an overweight boy sprinting like he was fleeing from a crime scene.
'Not that I care. Let them stare,' he thought, gritting his teeth and digging deep.
His eyes darted to the distance. He was close now.
'I should be… almost at five miles,' he estimated.
And then it happened.
[Ding!]
[Task Complete: Ran 5 Miles.]
[Reward: 1x Training Elixir has been added to your storage.]
[You have gained +1 Stamina, +1 Strength, +2 Agility.]
Zane's knees nearly buckled beneath him. His body screamed in protest, but the wave of satisfaction that surged through him silenced the pain for a moment.
"Finally…" he breathed, collapsing onto the grass at the side of the dirt path. He was panting heavily, his shirt soaked through and clinging to his skin. Sweat poured from his brow in thick drops, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the bottle of water he'd stashed in his bag earlier.
He gulped it down in ragged sips, chest still heaving. A sharp cramp dug into his side like a knife, but he ignored it. Slowly, the intensity of the burning in his legs eased. As the stat boosts took effect, he could feel it—the subtle shift inside him. The tremble in his limbs began to fade. His breathing evened out a fraction. The changes weren't dramatic, but they were real. Tangible.
'The system really is broken,' he thought. 'Instant growth like this… In the right hands, it's an unstoppable weapon.'
He was still discovering this new power he was given, and yet what he had seen was enough to make him treat this system as an overpowered weapon on every scale possible. Instant results were the sole thing stopping humans from breaking the limit, so the fact that he had gotten rid of that limitation was a huge thing.
He leaned back against the tree behind him and looked around. The world continued on without him, as if his silent triumph was invisible. People passed by, their faces blank or indifferent, too caught up in their own lives to pay much attention.
And yet Zane felt it—an odd kind of detachment. Like he was watching everything through a screen. These people weren't from his world. They looked like humans, sure. They laughed, talked, moved just like the ones he remembered. But they weren't his people. They belonged to a future that had never been meant for him.
He was a ghost here.
A relic. A part of a gruesome history that should've been left... well, in the past.
Still, he wasn't going to wallow in that. It wasn't his style. He was aware of his odd situation, and his goal was to adapt and understand it. That was always what he did... adapt.
Sitting up straighter, he cracked his neck and muttered, "Alright. What's next?"
As if in perfect sync, a soft chime echoed in his mind.
[Ding!]
[Your Tasks Have Been Updated.]
Zane raised a brow. "You really are listening, huh?"
He swiped the interface open, his fingers still trembling slightly, and scanned the new objective.
[Tasks]
[1 - Objective: Do 100 push-ups.]
[Difficulty: F]
[Reward: +2 Strength, +1 Stamina, 1x Training Elixir, 100 Store Points]
"Store points?" he mumbled. "Oh right… There's a store. I forgot about that."
The mention of a store piqued his curiosity, but he tabled the idea for now. First, he needed to cash in on this training momentum while he still had it. He stretched his sore limbs and stood up, his legs only slightly shaky now thanks to the recent stat increase.
He walked until he found a quiet patch under the shade of a wide-branched tree. The sun was starting to rise higher in the sky, and warmth spilled through the leaves above, casting dappled patterns across the grass.
"Let's get this over with," he muttered, downing the new training elixir and bracing himself on the ground.
"One hundred push-ups… I used to do that during warmups. But now…" He took a deep breath, his fingers curling into the earth. "This is going to hurt."
And so it began.
The training was pure torture.
Each repetition made his arms tremble. His shoulders burned, his back tensed, and his core threatened to collapse after every set of ten. Still, he pressed on, his eyes locked on the ground as sweat dripped from his forehead and splattered into the grass.
Somewhere across the park, laughter rang out.
***
"Ice cream in the morning is the best!" a cheerful voice rang.
A short distance away, three girls strolled down one of the winding paths. They stood out like characters from a dream—tall, graceful, and unmistakably beautiful. Their presence turned heads wherever they went.
"You're insane. Who eats ice cream this early?" the second girl scoffed, trying to hold her cone with minimal enthusiasm. "Seriously, of all the breakfast options…"
"You bought it too, didn't you?" the first girl grinned, winking.
"I was forced to buy it. Don't twist the story."
"Riri, you're awfully quiet," the first girl said, nudging the third.
The one called Rinaya looked up with her pale violet eyes, her voice soft. "I promised to buy her one last week. I'm just keeping my word."
"Wait, what?" the second girl blinked.
"Hehe, I win~" the first one teased, clutching her cone like a trophy.
"You little—!"
"Nooo! Help! She's attacking me!" the first girl squealed, dodging away as the other lunged at her.
Rinaya simply watched, a ghost of a smile on her lips. But her thoughts were elsewhere. Something tugged at her mind—a flicker of sensation, like a thread connecting her to something unseen.
And then she saw him.
A lone boy under a tree, pushing his body against the limits, soaked in sweat and grit.
Her expression changed, ever so slightly. Her eyes widened visibly. She thought she was mistaken, so she closed them and opened them again as if to make sure it wasn't some sort of illusion.
"Hm?" she murmured, her steps slowing.
"Riri?" her friends called, noticing her pause.
But Rinaya didn't answer.
"Is that...?"