At first, Rinaya thought she was imagining things. That distinct glint of white hair catching the sun—so sharp, so out of place—seemed too familiar to be a coincidence. Her gaze locked on the figure in the distance, down by the trees. Even with the sun light playing tricks, she knew she wasn't wrong.
It was him.
Zane.
There was no mistaking it. That blinding white hair was too unique, too unnatural to belong to anyone else. She stared, momentarily frozen, her thoughts scrambling to make sense of what she was seeing.
It wasn't the fact that he was out in public that surprised her. It was what he was doing. His body was low to the ground, arms shaking, sweat dripping down his face as he pushed himself off the earth in labored, deliberate movements.
Push-ups. He was training.
"…Huh?" The sound left her lips before she even realized.
Her friends immediately noticed the shift in her attention.
"What are you staring at?" one of them asked, stepping beside her and trying to follow her line of sight. "Is that a guy doing push-ups?"
"Huh? Oh—no, it's nothing," Rinaya said quickly, breaking her gaze and turning away as if she'd seen something she shouldn't have. "Just… some random guy. Let's go."
"Random guy? Oh my, Riri... Where you checking out someon- Ouch!"
"No," Rinaya replied coldly before her friend could even tease her. She wasn't going to allow her friend to have that kind of fun.
"Hey! I didn't even say anything!" The girl protested loudly, only to go silent again with a simple, cold glare.
She reached for her friends' hands and tugged them away from the view, her face calm, controlled—but inside, her thoughts were racing.
'Why is he out here… now?'
The last time she saw Zane, he looked like a hollow shell of a person. His apartment was a mess, and so was he. She'd visited him—out of guilt, maybe duty—to end things properly. To sever the engagement that had been hanging by a thread for far too long. Back then, he was gaunt, defeated, and completely uninterested in even pretending to care. He barely looked at her. The only words he gave her were pathetic and defeated.
'I wonder what made him leave now... and train?' She thought to herself. It was a little odd, so she assumed it was simply one of his weird ideas, or she lacked too much context to understand what he was doing. In either case, she decided to forget about it.
She bit her lip and kept walking.
'Doesn't matter. We're strangers now. It is none of my business what he does now.'
Still, a part of her—a tiny, buried piece—felt something stir at the sight. Not sadness, not pity… maybe hope?
If he was really trying to pull himself out of that darkness, then maybe… maybe he wasn't as lost as she thought.
Unaware of the eyes that had briefly lingered on him, Zane continued his battle against his own limits.
His arms trembled. His chest burned. Sweat soaked through his shirt, dripping steadily onto the grass beneath him. Every movement felt heavier than the last, and every breath came out in a sharp gasp.
"Twenty-eight… twenty-nine…"
He clenched his teeth.
"…Thirty!"
With a grunt, Zane let his arms give out and collapsed onto the grass, his body completely spent. His face was flushed, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a war drum. He stared up at the sky, trying to slow his breathing.
"This is… brutal," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Even after downing the training elixir earlier, the push-ups had turned into a full-on war. His muscles were screaming, and his arms felt like jelly.
But the worst part?
He had seventy more to go.
Zane closed his eyes and let the wind brush against his face for a moment. Then he opened the system panel.
[Ding!]
[+1 Strength]
'Hmph… That's something, at least.'
Still lying on his back, he began assessing the situation. This body, while still a far cry from his previous physique, was showing promise. The difference between a few hours ago and now was already noticeable—his form was slightly cleaner, and the pain was more bearable. It was a small win, but he'd take it.
'I'll do this in sets of thirty… maybe thirty-five if I push harder. Fifteen-minute breaks in between should give me enough time to breathe.'
He sat up slowly and reached for his water bottle. The cool liquid burned its way down his dry throat, and he exhaled, refreshed.
'I'm definitely improving. I can feel the difference. Those stat increases really work.'
Zane looked down at his hands—still shaking slightly—but steadier than before. He remembered what he used to be capable of. Running for miles, lifting weights twice his body weight, and enduring training that would leave most people in the hospital. Back then, pain was his daily companion, but so was strength.
This body was weak, sure. But it wasn't hopeless.
"If this is what just a couple of points can do… I wonder how far I can push this."
The thought made his lips curl into a tired but genuine smile. He'd never had this kind of freedom before. No orders. No mission. No overlord breathing down his neck, demanding perfection or punishment. This was his pace, his progress—and his alone.
The moment the fifteen minutes were up, Zane returned to the grass, planted his hands, and began again.
Another forty-five minutes passed in a blur of sweat, pain, and quiet determination.
Zane barely noticed the people passing by. Some looked at him curiously. Others gave him a wide berth. A few even whispered things he couldn't hear. None of it mattered.
Push-up after push-up, he gritted his teeth and pushed through.
By the time he hit ninety, his body was on the verge of shutting down.
His arms were numb. His chest felt like it was on fire. He had tunnel vision, and every breath he took felt like it was scraping against the inside of his lungs. But still… he didn't stop.
"Ninety-six… ninety-seven…!"
He groaned, sweat flying off his face.
"Ninety-eight!"
Almost there.
"Ninety-nine!"
One more.
"One… hundred!"
He fell flat on the grass, arms spread out like a ragdoll, his face buried in the ground.
A faint chime echoed in his ears.
[Ding!]
[Task Complete: 100 Push-ups.]
[Reward: +2 Strength, +1 Stamina, 1x Training Elixir, 100 Store Points.]
Zane didn't even lift his head. He just laughed quietly to himself, the sound muffled by the grass.
"At least… it was worth it," he mumbled, rolling over onto his back.
For a while, he just lay there, staring at the sky. The clouds drifted lazily above, completely indifferent to the struggle that had just played out beneath them.
But Zane didn't care.
He'd done it. On his own terms.
And for the first time in his life, that meant something.
Not for a commander. Not for some twisted cause. Not even for revenge.
Just for himself. That alone felt like the world to him, as simple as it was.
A slow, satisfied smile crept across his face as the system screen blinked in front of him, waiting.
"…Now," he whispered, still panting, "let's check out that store."