I emerged from the portal, back in the familiar bustle of Luka Town. The glow of its biomechanical buildings and the faint hum of its streets felt like a second home now. There was no time to waste.

  By day, I headed straight to the combat field, challenging soldiers one by one. Each fight was a new lesson, a test of the techniques I’d learned from Elaine, Rodrick, and Strider. The structured battles forced me to adapt quickly, reading my opponents’ movements and finding ways to counter their attacks. Most of them were higher level than me, but the challenge only fueled my determination.

  By night, I ventured into the forest, the moonlight casting long shadows across the trees. Here, I fought low-level mobs—skeletons whose bones clattered with every step, zombies that groaned as they lunged clumsily. They were easy targets for most players, but for me, they were perfect for practicing my form and stamina.

  Each night, I pushed myself further, venturing deeper into the forest. On the final night of my solo training, I encountered an ogre—a hulking creature with mottled green skin and a massive club slung over its shoulder. Its roar shook the ground, and for a moment, I hesitated. This wasn’t some low-level zombie. This was a real fight.

  The battle was intense. The ogre swung its club with devastating force, each attack sending shockwaves through the ground. But I stayed focused, using the techniques Elaine had drilled into me. I dodged its heavy strikes, waiting for openings before countering with precision. After what felt like an eternity, the ogre fell, its massive form collapsing with a thunderous crash.

  I stood over its fallen body, breathless and battered. A notification popped up in front of me: Level Up—Level 8.

  A grin spread across my face. Six days of relentless training had paid off. Logging out, I finally let myself collapse onto my bed, the exhaustion of both worlds catching up with me. Sleep came quickly, and for the first time in days, it felt well-earned.

  The following morning, I returned to the game with renewed resolve. Today, it was Brandon’s turn to train me. I wasn’t sure what to expect—Brandon was one of the quieter members of the Seven Endeavors. His towering frame and hammer gave him an intimidating presence, but he rarely spoke, letting his actions do the talking.

  When I arrived at the training field, he was already there, standing near a pile of wooden spikes. Without saying a word, he picked one up with a casual ease that belied its weight. The spike was about two feet long, one end sharp and the other flat. Brandon raised it briefly, then drove the sharp end into the ground with a single thrust.

  Then, with a deep breath, he raised his hammer-like fist above his head and let out a roar.

  "Arrrrghh!"

  The impact was deafening. His fist came down with such force that the spike disappeared into the earth, the ground cracking and trembling around it. Dust and debris rose into the air, and I stumbled back slightly, my eyes wide in shock.

  "Whoa," I muttered, clapping instinctively. "That was incredible!"

  Brandon looked up at me, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. The display of raw power spoke volumes.

  Brandon silently placed another wooden spike into the ground, this time barely embedding it. Without a word, he reached over to a smaller hammer and passed it to me. His stoic expression didn’t waver, but his intent was clear—it was my turn.

  I gripped the hammer’s handle and immediately regretted it. The moment Brandon let go, the weight of the hammer overwhelmed me, dragging it straight to the ground. A dull thud echoed in the clearing, and my arms burned just from trying to hold it upright.

  I stared at the hammer in disbelief. It wasn’t even the massive one Brandon had wielded so effortlessly earlier—it was smaller, meant for me—but it was still heavy enough to feel like I was trying to lift a slab of iron. My fingers tightened around the handle as determination flared inside me.

  Brandon, without a word, turned and walked toward a nearby tree. He leaned against it, his massive frame blending into the shadows of the forest as birds fluttered down to join him. They perched on his shoulders and arms, pecking at seeds he offered from his hand. It was a strangely serene image, a stark contrast to the turmoil building in my mind.

  I crouched down, gripping the hammer with both hands. Alright, me. Full power! I thought, gritting my teeth. With every ounce of strength I had, I heaved. My muscles screamed in protest as I slowly lifted the hammer off the ground. It rose, inch by inch, until it finally left the earth completely.

  My arms trembled violently, my core tightening as I struggled to balance the weight. The hammer felt like it was pulling my body apart, my muscles threatening to give out. And then, just as quickly as it had risen, it fell, slamming back into the dirt with a force that made my knees buckle.

  I dropped to the ground, panting, my vision swimming. "This is… impossible," I muttered under my breath.

  But the thought of stopping didn’t even cross my mind. This was the kind of challenge I needed—the kind that would push me closer to becoming the strongest. My heart pounded as I gripped the hammer again, readying myself for another attempt.

  The morning dragged on, each minute feeling like an hour. Slowly, painfully, my body began to adapt. My arms, back, and legs burned with every movement, but I managed to lift the hammer more frequently. It wasn’t pretty—most of the time, I lost my balance, the hammer’s weight pulling me backward and sending me sprawling onto the ground. When I did manage to swing it, I often missed the spike entirely, the hammer crashing uselessly into the dirt.

  But every now and then, I got it right. The hammer connected with the flat end of the spike, sending a satisfying vibration through the handle. The spike didn’t move, not even a millimeter, but that brief moment of success fueled me to keep going.

  By midday, my arms felt like they were on fire. Every muscle screamed for me to stop, my legs shook with fatigue, and my back ached with every movement. But I refused to give in. I tightened my grip on the hammer and swung again, focusing on nothing but the task in front of me.

  Each strike was an inch closer to progress. My hands blistered, my shoulders throbbed, but I kept going. My thoughts wandered to Claire—her cold, distant gaze, the way she carried herself with unyielding confidence. She was my motivation, the spark that kept me from collapsing. I can do this. I WILL do this.

  The sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange. Brandon hadn’t moved from his spot beneath the tree. His head was tucked down, his arms crossed over his chest. At first, I thought he was meditating, but then I noticed something.

  A snot bubble.

  I stared, dumbfounded, as the bubble expanded and deflated rhythmically. This guy seriously fell asleep on me.

  For a brief moment, frustration bubbled up. Here I was, swinging a hammer like my life depended on it, and my mentor had decided to take a nap. But as quickly as the irritation came, it faded. Brandon’s calm, unbothered nature was oddly reassuring. He trusted me to push through this challenge on my own, and I wasn’t about to let him—or myself—down.

  As night fell, the fatigue became unbearable. My arms felt like lead, my legs wobbled with every step, and my vision blurred from exhaustion. The hammer felt heavier than ever, but I refused to stop. I tightened my grip, drawing strength from sheer determination.

  The moon rose high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the clearing. The forest around me was silent, save for the rhythmic clang of the hammer meeting the spike. Each swing felt like a battle against myself—a fight to prove that I could keep going, no matter how impossible it seemed.

  The thought of Claire kept me moving. Her piercing gaze, her smile that I’d only seen once but couldn’t forget—it fueled me. I wasn’t just doing this to get stronger. I was doing this to stand by her, to prove I could be someone worth noticing.

  "C’mon, Hector," I muttered to myself, my voice hoarse. "One swing at a time."

  I raised the hammer again, my body screaming in protest. The weight bore down on me, but I swung with all the strength I had left. The hammer connected with the spike, sending a faint vibration through the handle. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

  And I wasn’t stopping until I couldn’t lift the hammer anymore.

  The morning sun cast a golden glow over the clearing, its warmth slowly chasing away the chill of the night. Brandon stirred from his spot beneath the tree, stretching his massive frame as he wiped the remnants of sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t moved all night, yet the calm rise and fall of his chest had been a silent presence, a steady reminder of his watchfulness—even if he’d slept through most of it.

  As he came to, his ears picked up the rhythmic sound of heavy slams, accompanied by strained grunts. Blinking away the blur of sleep, he turned his head to see the source.

  There I was, hammer in hand, standing amidst a row of wooden spikes. Five of them had been driven completely into the ground, their tops flush with the earth. Sweat poured down my face, my shirt clinging to my back as I lined up another swing.

  "Arhhhhhh!" I screamed, my voice raw and hoarse.

  With a surge of momentum, I swung the hammer down, my legs powering the strike. The hammer collided with the spike with a resounding crack, sending a tremor through the ground. The spike vanished into the earth, buried completely. The impact left the ground trembling slightly, a mini earthquake radiating from the force.

  Brandon stood, his mouth slightly agape, utterly speechless.

  "Goodness," he muttered, his deep voice breaking the quiet for the first time that day.

  He hurried over, his heavy footsteps thudding against the earth. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by something I hadn’t seen before: awe.

  "You’ve done it," he said, his tone filled with a mix of pride and disbelief. "You’ve completed the task—and more."

  I let the hammer slip from my hands, the weight finally leaving my grip. As it hit the ground with a dull thud, I collapsed onto my back, my chest heaving as I gasped for air. My arms felt like they were on fire, every muscle screaming in protest.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Jesus Christ," I panted, a weak grin spreading across my face. "Letting go of that handle felt like lifting the weight of the world off my shoulders."

  Brandon chuckled softly, his deep voice carrying a rare warmth. "Well done, my boy. You’ve exceeded my expectations—and gone beyond them by finishing five more than I asked."

  I managed a small smile, my exhaustion too overwhelming for words. Brandon nodded at me, his expression serious but tinged with admiration.

  "You’ve earned your rest," he said. "Take half a day to recover. Your next training will test your endurance and mental strength."

  With that, he turned and began walking back toward the camp, his massive frame casting a long shadow in the morning light.

  I lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky. The hammer lay beside me, its presence still heavy in my mind even though it no longer weighed on my arms. My fingers twitched involuntarily, the phantom strain of gripping the handle refusing to fade.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle weakly to myself. I’d done it. I’d pushed past the limits of my body and achieved something I didn’t think was possible. The thought filled me with pride, a quiet sense of accomplishment settling over me.

  But now, I couldn’t move. My legs refused to cooperate, my arms felt like lead, and every muscle in my body protested even the idea of standing. So, instead of fighting it, I let myself rest, my head sinking into the cool grass.

  For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax completely. The world around me faded, the sounds of the forest and the gentle warmth of the sun lulling me into a state of peaceful recovery.

  This wasn’t just rest. This was victory.

  After what felt like an eternity of rest, Brandon returned. His heavy footsteps announced his arrival long before he appeared in the clearing. I sat up slowly, my body still aching from the hammer training, but at least I could move now. Testing my legs, I found they were shaky but functional. That was enough.

  "Come on," Brandon said simply, motioning for me to follow. We ventured deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser, their canopies filtering the sunlight into patches of gold on the forest floor. My muscles protested every step, but I forced myself to keep up with Brandon’s steady pace.

  Eventually, we stopped in front of a massive boulder—easily taller than me and wider than two people standing shoulder to shoulder. Its rough, weathered surface gleamed faintly in the sunlight. Brandon placed his hand on it casually, then, with a single arm, pushed it forward. The boulder groaned as it rolled, leaving a shallow indentation in the ground.

  He stepped back, his hand resting on his hip. "Push it," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

  I stared at him, then at the boulder. Seriously? But Brandon didn’t say anything else. His expression remained stoic, expectant. I took a deep breath, stepping forward and placing both hands against the cool surface of the boulder.

  Thanks to the hammer training earlier, I felt stronger, more capable. With a grunt of effort, I pushed. At first, it barely budged, but as I adjusted my footing and leaned into it, the massive rock began to move. The faint sound of it scraping against the dirt was like music to my ears. When I finally managed to roll it a few feet, I stepped back, panting, and glanced at Brandon.

  He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. But then, he pointed into the distance.

  "See that boulder over there?" he asked.

  I squinted, spotting another massive rock about a mile away. It was almost hidden among the trees, but its size made it unmistakable.

  "I want you to push this boulder all the way until it touches that one," Brandon said, his tone unwavering. "You can only stop for thirty seconds at a time. No more. This will test your endurance and your mental strength. Now go!"

  His shout startled me into action. I lunged forward, pressing my hands against the boulder and shoving with all the strength I could muster. At first, it rolled easily enough, the momentum carrying it forward. But the deeper I went into the forest, the more the terrain worked against me. Uneven ground, roots, and small inclines all conspired to slow me down.

  The first few minutes weren’t so bad. My legs burned, but I powered through, focusing on keeping the boulder moving. But as time dragged on, the weight of the task began to sink in. My arms felt numb, my back ached with every step, and my legs trembled under the strain.

  I stole a glance ahead, hoping to see progress, but my heart sank. The midpoint wasn’t even in sight. My body screamed at me to stop, to collapse onto the ground and let the boulder win. But I clenched my teeth and pushed harder.

  Why am I doing this? The thought echoed in my mind, tempting me to give in. But then, I reminded myself: I’m doing this because I want to be number one. Because I have to be strong enough to stand beside them. To stand beside Claire.

  I shoved harder, channeling the thought into raw determination. The boulder groaned as it rolled forward, inch by inch.

  By sunset, I was a wreck. Sweat poured down my face, my legs felt like they were on fire, and my vision blurred with exhaustion. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so utterly drained. But the other boulder was finally within reach.

  "Just a little further," I muttered to myself, my voice shaky. "C’mon, Hector. You can do this."

  I thought of Claire’s smile—the rare, fleeting expression that had stayed with me since I first saw it. The memory reignited a spark inside me, and suddenly, it didn’t matter how much my body hurt. I planted my feet firmly on the ground and pushed with everything I had left.

  The boulder groaned loudly, trembling as it inched forward. With one final shove, it touched the other boulder, the sound of stone meeting stone echoing through the forest.

  The moment the task was complete, I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion—it was the overwhelming relief, the pride of knowing I had done it. I had pushed through every ounce of pain and self-doubt to finish.

  Brandon’s heavy footsteps approached. He crouched down beside me, his massive frame casting a shadow over my trembling form.

  "Amazing work," he said, his voice steady but warm. "That is all. Rest for today."

  Before I could respond, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing and slung me over his shoulder. My body hung limply, completely spent, even my jaw muscles too tired to form words.

  "Thhhhhaaaannkks Braaaadoooon," I mumbled, my voice slurred and weak.

  He laughed, the deep sound rumbling through his chest. "Hahaha, rest up, son. You’ve clearly earned it."

  I barely registered his words before sleep began to claim me. My head rested against his shoulder as the gentle sway of his steps lulled me into unconsciousness. For the first time in days, my dreams were peaceful.

  The morning sun warmed the camp as I stretched, letting out a yawn that felt like it came from my soul. My muscles still ached from Brandon’s brutal training, but I was slowly getting used to the constant physical toll. Just as I was about to start my day, I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

  Frowning, I turned around, but no one was there. I scanned the area, but all I saw were the trees and the soft rustling of leaves. "Must’ve been the wind," I muttered, shrugging it off.

  As I turned back, I froze. Face-to-face, upside down, was Hattori.

  "What’s up," he said, his usual playful grin spreading across his face.

  "AAAAHHHH!" I screamed, stumbling backward and nearly falling over. My heart pounded as he burst into laughter, clearly enjoying my reaction.

  Hattori was hanging from a string, suspended mid-air by the strange device in his hands. Each finger looped into its own slot, the string extending from his pointer finger and attaching to a nearby tree branch. He swung slightly as if to show off his balance and control.

  "Relax, bro," he said, still chuckling. "Today, you’re training under me. Get ready and meet me southwest at the biggest tree you can find." With a flick of his wrist, the string retracted, pulling him up into the canopy. Before I could respond, he vanished into the forest, leaving me standing there, bewildered.

  "What a ninja," I muttered, shaking my head as I got up to follow his instructions.

  By the time I arrived at the massive tree Hattori had mentioned, he was already there, casually lounging on a high branch. He waved lazily as I approached.

  "Alright," he said, dropping down with a fluid grace that made it look effortless. "Lesson one: stealth. If you’re gonna be a great warrior, you’ve gotta know how to move unseen. Use your surroundings, blend into the environment, and most importantly, keep your target guessing."

  Before I could even nod, he disappeared right in front of me.

  "What the—" I started, but his voice came from above.

  "Up here," he called, dangling from another branch. His grin was infuriatingly smug. "Lesson two: don’t rely on sight alone. Use your other senses. You’ve got five of them—use them all."

  For the rest of the day, Hattori drilled me relentlessly. He had me practice moving silently through the forest, using the terrain to my advantage. Every misstep was met with his voice pointing out my mistake.

  "Too loud. That leaf crunch gave you away," he said, leaning casually against a tree I hadn’t even noticed him behind.

  "Your shadow’s showing," he added later, laughing as I tried to reposition myself. "C’mon, you can do better than that."

  It was exhausting, but by the end of the day, I was starting to get the hang of it. For the first time, I managed to sneak close enough to him without being spotted—or at least, that’s what I thought until he appeared behind me, clapping me on the shoulder.

  "Not bad, bro," he said with a grin. "But you’ve still got work to do."

  The next day, we shifted focus to awareness. "If you can’t sense what’s around you," Hattori said, "you’re already at a disadvantage. You’ve gotta know what’s happening from all angles, all the time."

  He blindfolded me and had me dodge attacks based on sound alone, using sticks, rocks, and even leaves to test my reactions. At first, it was impossible—I missed everything, stumbling and tripping over myself. But slowly, I started to pick up on subtle cues: the faint whistle of a thrown rock, the rustle of leaves disturbed by movement.

  "Good," Hattori said as I narrowly avoided a swinging branch. "See? You’re getting it. Don’t rely just on your eyes—your other senses are just as important."

  By the end of the day, I felt sharper, quicker. Combined with Brandon’s strength training, my progress was undeniable. I’d hit Level 10—finally, double digits.

  "Congrats, bro," Hattori said as we finished. "We’ve gotta celebrate this occasion!"

  Before I could ask what he meant, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the trees. "Follow me!" he shouted, leaping onto a branch. Using his string contraption, he swung through the forest with ease, his movements fluid and controlled.

  Thanks to Brandon’s training, I managed to keep up, jumping from branch to branch with newfound agility. The cool evening air rushed past me as we moved, the thrill of it making me forget my exhaustion.

  When we finally stopped, Hattori perched on a branch and signaled for me to come closer. "Check this out," he said, his grin widening.

  I stepped forward, peering down through the leaves—and froze. Below us was a hot spring, its waters steaming in the cool air. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. The hot spring was filled to the brim with girls—some robotic, others human-like, all of them chatting and relaxing in the water.

  "Don’t be shy, my boy," Hattori said, his tone playful. "We’re men. Get closer, take in the view."

  I glanced at him, my cheeks heating up. "Yeah, I bet this is your happy place," I muttered, shaking my head.

  He laughed. "You know it."

  As I looked back down, I noticed something strange. One of Hattori’s strings was tied to the branch beneath me, and it was… fraying. I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. "What are you—"

  "This is your last challenge," he said mischievously, pulling the string taut. "Time to put what you’ve learned to the test. If you get caught, well… consider yourself a dead man."

  Before I could protest, he snapped the string, and the branch beneath me gave way. I plummeted toward the hot spring, my mind racing.

  I twisted mid-air, landing silently on my fingertips on a nearby stone. My heart pounded in my chest as I took in my surroundings. The girls had noticed the sound of the branch hitting the water, their curious gazes scanning the area.

  I cursed under my breath. "Dammit, Hattori."

  Using everything I’d learned, I began moving from stone to stone, keeping low and staying silent. Every movement had to be precise. A single misstep would mean certain doom—or, at the very least, unbearable embarrassment.

  The girls eventually found the branch and dismissed it as nothing, settling back into the water. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and waited until the coast was clear. Then, with a final burst of effort, I jumped the fence and bolted into the forest.

  "Mission complete," I muttered, collapsing against a tree. My heart was still racing, but a grin tugged at my lips. Hattori might’ve been a menace, but I couldn’t deny that his training had paid off.