4 The Weight of Change
My eyelids fluttered open to the unfamiliar sight of a plain white ceiling. The soft, diffused sunlight filtering through the blinds hinted at an afternoon well underway. My body ached, but the relentless gnawing pain had subsided.
[Alert: Daily Quest: Path to the Strongest,] a disembodied voice announced in my head – that blasted system again.
"What's this about now?" I grumbled, mentally prodding the system for more information. Before I could get an answer, a sudden thought popped into my head. "Wait...a daily routine? Don't tell me it's 100 push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and a 10km run."
The system's response came immediately, a hint of annoyance in its tone: [Host, this system is not that basic. You'll need a more comprehensive approach to truly forge yourself into a powerful being. My Ultimate Training Program will push your body to its limits and unlock your true potential.]
The system getting annoyed amused me, despite the impending doom I sensed in the system's words. "Alright, alright," I chuckled, "don't get your non-existent circuits in a twist."
[System's Ultimate Daily Training Program]
Warm-Up (15 minutes)
Jump Rope: 10 minutes
Dynamic Stretches: 5 minutes
Upper Body & Core (Circuit)
Weighted Pull-Ups (Wide Grip): 5 sets of max reps.
Pseudo Planche Push-Ups: 5 sets of 15-20 reps.
Hanging Leg Raises: 5 sets of 20-25 reps.
Lower Body & Core (Circuit)
Kettlebell Pistol Squats: 5 sets of 12-15 reps per leg.
Box Jumps: 5 sets of 15-20 reps.
L-Sit: 5 sets, hold for max time.
Full Body & Explosiveness
Muscle-Ups: 5 sets of 8-10 reps.
Burpees: 6 sets of 20-25 reps.
Clap Push-Ups: 5 sets of 15-20 reps.
Endurance
5km Run
[Rewards for completing the quest:]
200 xp
3 stat points
Auto Recovery: Upon completion, your body rapidly heals and eliminates any workout-related aches and pains.
My eyes widened as I absorbed the sheer intensity of the workout. Muscle-ups? Pseudo-planche push-ups? L-sits? This was clearly the program of someone with unreasonable expectations.
"This... auto recovery?" I asked hesitantly, "Sounds almost too good to be true. You wouldn't have a penalty for skipping the quest, would you?"
[Host, the penalty is remaining weak. The penalty is being unable to defend yourself. The penalty... is death.]
"Fair enough." I mumbled.
While the system's training routine was comprehensive, I lacked some essentials – weights for squats, a pull-up bar, a sturdy box... the list went on. Plus, nagging questions about Kaito's life clawed at the back of my mind. Did he have friends? A girlfriend? What the hell had happened before that night in the library? I needed answers.
I scanned the sparse apartment, Sunlight speared through the blinds, catching on a dusty photo frame. Kaito, maybe ten years old, grinning wide enough to split his face. Next to him...strangers. An older man and woman, both beaming with a warmth that radiated through the picture.
My eyes drifted to a nearby shelf in the living room. Two simple urns rested there, each accompanied by framed photographs – the same man and woman from the family photo. A pang of realization hit me like a gut punch. It seemed the nagging thought about Kaito's family had a tragically simple answer.
A sliver of hope remained. Perhaps there were other clues, hints of Kaito's life hidden somewhere in this apartment. I started with the bedroom drawers, methodically sifting through clothes and random possessions. Amidst old socks and faded t-shirts, a well-worn notepad caught my eye.
Scrawled across the cover in faded ink were the words: Important Things. My heart quickened. I flipped it open. The first few pages were filled with what looked like study notes, but as I scrolled down, a jumble of emails and passwords for various sites began to appear: school accounts, social media platforms... even a few for online games.
One thing stood out – a repeating pattern of four numbers: 7376. It surfaced consistently within the passwords for almost every site. Could this be...
I grabbed my jeans from the dirty clothes hamper and fished my phone out of the pocket. The screen flickered on, a warning flashing: Battery Low – 7% remaining.
"Please work..." I whispered. I swiped to unlock the phone and hesitated, fingers hovering over the number pad. 7376. I entered the code and pressed 'OK'.
The home screen flickered into view, and I nearly choked on air. The background was still a scantily-clad anime girl, her pose both provocative and slightly ridiculous. I began exploring. Kaito's social media was... sparse. A few vague posts, the occasional meme, and some photos of him—some with his shirt on, others without, flexing with a vaguely confused expression.
Curious, I ventured into his DMs. Message after message from various women, some casual, some overtly flirtatious, filled the screen. Clearly, Kaito's artistic self-expression had garnered some attention. Things went downhill fast once he responded.
"Umm, so I see you like anime too," I read out loud. "Are you more of a tsundere type, or are you the sweet, innocent type? Asking for...science..."
I scrolled further, the messages blending into a blur of awkward emojis and attempts at flirting that fell disastrously flat.
"Well," I muttered, setting the phone on its charger, "At least now I have a slightly better picture of who I've become… And it ain't pretty."
I navigated to his social media account, hitting 'delete account' with ruthless efficiency. This profile was beyond saving. Next, I went to the settings. Factory reset. Time for this phone to get a total cleanse.
The phone buzzed with the first stages of the reset. Shrugging, I turned away, scanning the apartment once more. I needed to do some shopping. Maybe the closet would hold some decent clothes.
Rummaging through the sparse wardrobe, I found a few t-shirts and a pair of black cargo pants that looked clean enough. In the back, a pair of worn Converse sat shoved beneath a laundry basket. Swapping out my current clothes, I added a black long sleeve shirt for good measure. It would hide whatever lingering marks remained from my injuries.
By the time I glanced back towards the dresser, the phone screen had gone black. The reset was complete.
I scrolled through the phone's setup, bypassing optional features. It wouldn't take long to repopulate it with the essentials later. For now, a functional device would do.
A search for "equipment shops near me" yielded promising results. There was one a mere .4 kilometers away. Perfect. I stuffed the phone into the pocket of my newfound cargo pants and turned to leave.
The equipment shop was small, crammed into an unassuming storefront on a side street. Inside, racks of weights and the odd treadmill fought for space with bundles of resistance bands and stacks of yoga mats.
"Welcome in, can I help you find something?" The voice was surprisingly cheerful, considering how cramped and gloomy the shop seemed. I turned, and there she was: a petite, fair-skinned woman with a slightly curvy build, wearing a red shirt with the store's logo and black yoga pants. If I had to guess, she looked like she was in college.
"Actually, yeah." There was a subtle warmth in my voice as I met her eyes, "I'm looking for something a bit specific. Need the basics for a minimalist home setup."
"Oh, that can be fun!" She gestured for me to follow. "What were you thinking? Weights are a good start..."
"Definitely weights. Kettlebells ideally. And a jump rope. Maybe something sturdy for box jumps... a pull-up bar if there's something easy to install..." I trailed off, scanning the shelves. "And, if you happen to have it, a weighted vest set."
Her eyebrows rose in impressed surprise. "You sound like you know what you're doing."
I shrugged, "I try. Gotta stay in shape, right?" We moved through the store, her pointing out options on different equipment to use and the best brands.
By the time the last item, a weighted vest, found its way into my basket, a sense of ease had settled between us. There was an unspoken understanding in how she directed me towards suitable pull-up bar options, her explanations clear and to the point. It was refreshing to meet someone who shared a practical interest in fitness.
"So," she said as I moved towards the register, "you seem pretty serious about this. Any particular reason?"
"Just trying to be better than I was yesterday. Isn't that the whole point?"
Her smile widened, a touch of admiration glinting in her eyes. "I like that. It's good motivation."
"So… is this the family business? You seem pretty knowledgeable."
"Nah, I just work here on my off-days from college," she chuckled. "Keeps me busy, and honestly, I like being around this stuff."
"Oh yeah? What are you majoring in?"
"Kinesiology, actually." A spark of enthusiasm lit up her eyes. "All about human movement, how the body works. My dream's to open my own gym someday – something different, focused on functional training, real-world movement."
"That's ambitious," I remarked, genuinely impressed. "Being a personal trainer, that's the first step?"
She nodded, her smile growing. "That's the plan. Get some real-world experience, build my skills, and then hopefully have the resources and know-how to branch out on my own."
"Well, I wouldn't mind having you as my personal trainer when you graduate. Might whip me into shape."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?" There was a mixture of surprise and excitement in her voice.
"Sure, why not? Though," I pretended to consider, tapping my chin thoughtfully, "you'll have to promise not to be too hard on me at first. I'm a little out of practice, you know."
"Nonsense," she retorted, "You look amazing!" Her words tumbled out followed quickly by a blush that spread across her cheeks. Realizing what she'd blurted out, she quickly tried to regain composure. "I-I mean, you look like you take care of yourself..."
I couldn't hold back a chuckle at her flustered reaction. It was utterly alluring. "Well, let's just say appearances can be deceiving," I countered, "But it's motivating to hear you think so. That's incentive enough to work even harder."
Her eyes remained fixed on mine for a second too long, as if trying to read something deeper, then she smiled. "Good, because I have a feeling you'll need it," she said. "I don't cut slack for new clients, even handsome ones."
"Don't worry," I assured her, "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Exchanging my payment for the bagged equipment, I decided to try my luck, "Say, since I'm a potential future client, what's your name? I feel like I should know who's going to be putting me through my paces."
"Fair enough," she laughed, handing me the receipt and a bright flicker of a smile. "I'm Chie Nakamura."
"Chie Nakamura," I repeated, "It suits you. I'm Kaito Murakami."
"Well, Murakami, consider yourself warned. Don't underestimate me just because I'm small."
The corner of my mouth lifted in a half-grin. "Not a chance. I've always had a soft spot for those who pack a surprising punch."
I paused, then added, "You know, if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't be opposed to a preview of your training style. Maybe help me test out this new gear."
"Hmm," she tilted her head, "a preview, you say? Tell you what... check back in with me after you've survived a week with your new toys. If you're still standing, we can talk."
A thrill sparked in my chest. This wasn't just about fitness anymore; it was something more, a challenge I fully intended to meet. "It's a deal, I'll consider this my motivation."
With my purchases settled, I thanked Chie and turned to leave. It was only then, as I bent to hoist the heavy box containing my new workout gear, that the reality of my situation hit me. Sure, I was only 400 meters from my apartment, but this was some heavy stuff. And who decided it was brilliant to buy everything in one go?
"Well, Kaito," I muttered under my breath, "Consider this your pre-workout." I braced myself, gritted my teeth, and wrestled the box into a somewhat manageable position.
The first few steps were torture. My arms burned, my lungs protested, and sweat dripped into my eyes. Thoughts of the system's taunting words echoed in my mind - the penalty... is death. This was the price of weakness, the consequence of complacency. I couldn't afford to give in now.
Meter by meter, the dull ache began to transform. My muscles burned, but it was a focused burn, a sense of purpose replacing the overwhelming fatigue. By the time I reached my apartment building, my shirt was soaked through, and my breath came in ragged gasps. Still, a twisted sort of elation coursed through me. With a final grunt of exertion, I dragged the box over the threshold and into my apartment. Collapsing onto the floor, I let out a ragged laugh.
(15 minutes later)
The dull ache in my arms was a constant reminder of my impromptu weightlifting session. Lugging that box of equipment back to my apartment had been a rookie mistake, but hey, I was the rookie in this scenario. My battered body, however, strongly disagreed with the whole 'pre-workout' mindset.
I slumped onto the couch, the daunting workout routine from the System seeming to radiate a mocking aura on the coffee table.
"Fine," I grumbled to the empty apartment. "One rest break and then it's you versus me, System. Let's see what you've got."
With that, I set about creating a makeshift gym in the corner of my cramped living room.
Upper Body & Core
Weighted pull-ups were pure torture. My arms shook with the effort, and for a humiliating few seconds, I simply dangled from the bar like a disgruntled sloth. A desperate scramble brought my chin barely above the bar, the exertion leaving me gasping for breath. The remaining reps were a blur of gritted teeth and burning muscles.
By the time I hit pseudo planche push-ups, my arms felt like jelly. Even the modified version was brutal. Sweat stung my eyes as I strained to hold the position for a few pathetic seconds. With each set, though, it felt a fraction less impossible.
The rest of the upper body exercises passed quickly. Hanging leg raises seared my abs, but with each lift, I felt a core strength that had been worryingly absent before.
Lower Body & Core
Kettlebell squats were an absolute nightmare. My legs threatened to buckle with each awkward repetition, and my form was probably atrocious. It was a far cry from the kind of controlled explosiveness the System's workout seemed to demand. Box jumps, surprisingly, weren't terrible. A flicker of my old athleticism sparked, and for a few brief moments, I felt almost powerful.
L-sits, however, shattered that illusion. My legs wobbled in the air like they were trying to escape the rest of my body. Holding the position for even five seconds felt like a Herculean feat.
Full Body & Explosiveness
Muscle-ups remained a complete mockery of my abilities. I might as well have been trying to fly. Burpees were a familiar misery, each repetition fueled by sheer stubbornness more than strength. The clap push-ups ended up being more like 'sad attempt at a push-up followed by a muffled thud' than anything remotely impressive.
Endurance
By the time I staggered outside for my 5km run, I was a walking disaster. My legs felt leaden, my lungs burned, and a symphony of aches and pains throbbed through my body. Each labored step was a battle of will. With every ragged breath, I swore I was getting a tiny bit stronger.
Aftermath
Back in my apartment, I collapsed on the floor, utterly spent. As I lay on the floor, a strange sense of peace settled over me. For all the pain and exhaustion, there was a whisper of accomplishment.
My eyes drifted towards the equipment strewn across the floor. The System's promises of 'auto-recovery' still gnawed at my mind. Did I really feel any different?
Maybe there was another way to measure progress. "System," I mumbled, focusing as if the mere word could conjure the disembodied voice, "Show me my quest progress."
Almost immediately, a translucent screen shimmered into existence in front of me.
[System's Ultimate Daily Training Program]
Warm-Up (15 minutes) - COMPLETE
Upper Body & Core (Circuit)
Weighted Pull-Ups (Wide Grip): 4 sets of max reps. (COMPLETE)
Pseudo Planche Push-Ups: 5 sets of 15-20 reps. (COMPLETE)
Hanging Leg Raises: 5 sets of 20-25 reps. (COMPLETE)
Lower Body & Core (Circuit)
Kettlebell Pistol Squats: 5 sets of 12-15 reps per leg. (INCOMPLETE - 11/12 reps left leg)
Box Jumps: 5 sets of 15-20 reps. (COMPLETE)
L-Sit: 5 sets, hold for max time. (COMPLETE)
Full Body & Explosiveness
Muscle-Ups: 5 sets of 8-10 reps. (COMPLETE)
Burpees: 6 sets of 20-25 reps. (COMPLETE)
Clap Push-Ups: 5 sets of 15-20 reps. (COMPLETE)
Endurance
5km Run. (COMPLETE)
My eyes zeroed in on that one missing squat. "Well," I muttered to the empty room, "looks like we're not done yet."
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up, positioning myself beneath the kettlebell, every muscle screaming in protest. With one final, explosive effort, I completed the last squat.
The System's voice, almost smug, echoed in my head, [Congratulations. Daily Quest Complete.]
And then, it happened. A wave of warmth washed over me, my aching muscles tingling. The soreness didn't vanish completely, but it faded significantly, replaced with a deep, almost pleasant fatigue. It was as if the fatigue remained, but the agony was gone.
I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers in disbelief. The System… it had kept its promise.
The sudden ring of my phone shattered the silence. An unknown number flashed on the screen. My first instinct was to ignore it, but curiosity won out. I swiped to answer, bracing myself for a telemarketer or, worse, another of Kaito's questionable contacts.
"Hello?"
"Is this Kaito Murakami?"
"Yes, speaking. Who is this?"
"It's Satoru Gojo," he chirped. "I'm coming to pick you up tomorrow morning. Start packing for Tokyo."
My mind short-circuited. How did he have my number? "How—"
"We'll hash out all the details in person. Just try to survive the night, okay?" He ended the call with a chuckle that sent chills down my spine.
