The night was easier for Winston because all he had to do was lie on his bed without moving. The real challenge came the next morning when he had to drag himself through his usual routine. It took nearly all his strength just to get out of bed.
The push-ups were especially brutal. His ankles felt as though they were about to snap under the strain. He could barely manage four or five repetitions before having to stop and catch his breath. When he finally finished, the sit-ups were slightly easier, although getting into position was a challenge in itself.
Just as Winston was struggling through another repetition, Dumi came to check on him. Dumi stopped in the doorway, surprised. He had expected to find Winston barely moving—or perhaps still moping around on the bed. Instead, Winston was already pushing himself through his morning routine.
This kid...
Dumi remembered how determined Winston had been the previous day when he dragged himself back to the house.
"How long have you been up?" Dumi asked. "C'mon, breakfast is ready."
"I just woke up."
"Oh, okay. I'm coming."
Winston flapped his arms slightly to maintain his balance as Dumi walked out of the room. He heard Dumi whistling his favorite tune as his footsteps gradually faded along the wooden floor.
Last night, it took me hours just to take off my shoes.
Lifting his feet had been so difficult that Winston had spent nearly two to three hours struggling with them before finally getting into bed. Now, he slowly made his way down the corridor. Anna and Ivan appeared beside him, their tails wagging enthusiastically as though they were cheering him on. Winston leaned against the corridor wall with one elbow for support.
This feels like I'm learning how to walk all over again.
Whenever he stopped to catch his breath, he reached down and patted the two German Shepherds. "Hey, Ivan. Anna..."
His voice was low and exhausted. Eventually, Winston reached the spiral staircase. He stared at the steps and took several deep breaths.
Okay... one step at a time.
He lifted his foot, he missed the step.
"Wha—" His body suddenly lurched forward. Winston went tumbling down the staircase before slamming into the brick-patterned wall at the bottom.
Thud!
He held his head, wincing in pain. "Damn..."
Using the wall as a crutch, Winston slowly pushed himself upright. From there, he practically crawled forward, using his hands against the wall to steady himself. By the time he finally reached the dining room, he was completely exhausted. A steaming bowl of porridge sat waiting on the table.
Winston looked around. Boris was nowhere to be seen. Only Dumi sat across from him, calmly flipping through a stack of papers.
"Where's Mr. Boris?" Winston asked.
Dumi didn't look up. "Oh, he's outside." He turned a page. "Apparently, watching you train yesterday inspired him. He decided to put on the ankle weights himself."
Winston blinked. He actually put them on too?
Dumi finally looked up. "By the way, I didn't know you played for the senior club. Your head coach also mentioned that you were demoted to the junior league."
Winston paused. His hand tightened beneath the table. Memories of his poor performances came rushing back—the ridicule in the changing room, the insults, and the humiliation of being sent back down.
He let out a slow breath before continuing to eat. "Yeah. The senior club suffered a lot of injuries, and I was a new signing who had been brought in from the reserves."
Dumi leaned back in his chair, his tone relaxed. "Oh, wow. So what was it like playing for the senior club?"
Winston hesitated for a moment, he didn't know how to describe it. "It was amazing."
His voice rose slightly with excitement. "I never thought it would feel like that. The fans, the stadium, the lights, the atmosphere..." He smiled. "It was mind-blowing."
Dumi chuckled. "Ah. You got the Supreme Bug."
Winston looked at him curiously. "The Supreme Bug?"
Dumi stood and picked up Winston's empty porridge bowl. "It's a term we used back in my day. It means that feeling of euphoria you get when you finally reach something you've worked incredibly hard for."
Winston shifted in his chair, curiosity returning to his eyes. "Did you feel it too when you first played for the senior club?"
Dumi walked toward the sink. Before he could answer, the door swung open.
"Oh, you finally woke up, my young friend!" Boris stood in the doorway, drenched in sweat. "I just ran one hundred kilometers around the field. This is just like the training camp back home!"
Winston's eyes widened. What kind of training did this man go through back home?
He pushed himself to his feet despite the weight around his ankles. A grin spread across his face. "I'm ready, Mr. Boris. What kind of training are we focusing on today?"
Boris grinned. "We're lifting weights. I've already set up the equipment in the other house." He tapped his wristwatch. "Let's go."
Eventually, after a long and exhausting journey to the opposite end of the estate, Winston spotted a small brick building standing apart from the main house. A glass-doored extension was attached to one side, while a larger, dark-painted two-story structure surrounded the rest of the building. As they stepped inside, Winston's eyes widened.
No way...
The entire building was packed with gym equipment. Heavy barbells, weight racks, benches, cable machines, treadmills, squat racks, and various other pieces of equipment filled the spacious interior.
"This is your private gym?" Winston asked.
Boris grinned. "Yes. This is where I train most of my clients. One-on-one sessions, mostly."
Winston slowly looked around. So this is where all his clients come to train...
The equipment alone made the place feel more like a professional training facility than a private gym. Dumi and Boris immediately began preparing for their own workout. Winston watched them for a moment before Dumi gestured toward the treadmill beside his.
"Get on."
Winston glanced at the treadmill. "Now?"
Dumi nodded. "Now."
Winston sighed before dragging his feet toward it. Even walking with the ankle weights was difficult. He carefully climbed onto the treadmill and started at a slow pace. The machine began moving. His legs felt like they were carrying twice their normal weight. Dumi reached over and gradually increased the speed.
Winston's walking became a brisk stride, then a jog. Then— "Wait, Coach!"
The treadmill accelerated again. Winston gritted his teeth and leaned forward. Soon, he was sprinting. His breathing became ragged almost immediately.
"Haa... haa..." He glanced sideways.
Dumi was running on the treadmill beside him as though he were taking a leisurely stroll. His breathing was perfectly controlled. He casually looked through the large glass windows while humming along to one of his favorite songs.
Winston stared at him in disbelief. He's not even sweating...
Dumi continued humming, completely unfazed. Meanwhile, Winston's lungs felt as though they were on fire. "Coach..." Winston gasped. "Can you... slow this thing down?"
Dumi glanced at him. "Hmm?" He looked at Winston for a moment before smiling. "You're doing fine."
Winston's eyes widened. That's not an answer!
He gritted his teeth and continued running. The ankle weights pulled against his legs with every stride, making each step feel heavier than the last. Sweat rolled down his face as he fought to maintain his pace. Dumi simply continued running beside him, humming peacefully as if they were out for a casual morning jog.
This is going to be another brutal day.
[Nethen Essence: 69%]
[Voltage Core: 69%]
After a few more minutes, Dumi suddenly reached over and pressed the stop buttons on both treadmills. The machines came to an abrupt halt. Winston's momentum carried him forward.
"Whoa!"
He stumbled, nearly falling face-first onto the treadmill before Dumi caught him by the arm.
"You okay, kid?"
Winston steadied himself, hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Despite his exhaustion, he grinned. "Yeah, I'm okay, Coach. I almost face-planted the treadmill."
Dumi patted him on the back. "Attaboy. C'mon, let's join Boris on the leg press." They walked over to the leg press machine.
Clang! Clang!
The metallic sound of steel echoed throughout the gym. Boris was already in the middle of a set, driving the platform away from him with tremendous force. The machine groaned under the strain as though it were being pushed to its limit. Halfway through another repetition, Boris glanced toward Winston and Dumi.
"Oh, you guys are done?" he asked with a grin. "Let me finish a few more."
Winston stared, even with the twenty-kilogram ankle weights strapped to his legs, Boris moved as though they weren't there. How is he making those look so light?
It was still early in the morning, yet Boris showed no sign of struggling. His movements remained controlled, and his breathing barely changed.
Winston watched him carefully. I want to be able to move like that by the end of this training.
After Boris finished his set, Winston immediately approached the machine. Dumi stood beside him, ready to count his repetitions, while Boris took position on the opposite side with his arms folded.
"Take a deep breath," Boris instructed. "Then push."
Winston gripped the handles and positioned his feet against the platform.
He pushed, nothing happened. His legs trembled—it felt as though he were trying to shove an immovable concrete wall.
"Come on," Boris encouraged. "Push!"
Winston gritted his teeth and drove through his legs. The platform finally moved. His eyes widened. I did it! The second repetition came more easily. Then the third. Winston continued. The ankle weights pulled heavily against his legs, forcing his muscles to work even harder. With every repetition, his knees moved closer toward his chest as he lowered the platform before driving it away again.
"Slow down," Dumi warned. "Don't rush."
But Winston was already caught in the rhythm.
He pushed again, and again—Dumi and Boris exchanged a glance.
"Kid, take a break," Dumi said.
Winston shook his head. "I can keep going." He pushed through the pain. His legs burned. His breathing became heavier, but he refused to stop.
"That's it!" Boris shouted. "Keep going!"
Dumi began counting. "Seven... eight... nine..."
Winston's legs were trembling violently.
"Ten!"
He completed the tenth repetition and immediately released the handles. The strength left his legs. "Whoa—" Dumi caught him before he could fall.
"Easy."
Winston's legs felt completely unstable. Dumi guided him toward a dark leather bench and helped him sit down before handing him a bottle of water. "Drink."
Winston took several deep breaths before gulping down the water. A few minutes later, Dumi moved on to the next exercise. "Chest press."
Compared to the leg press, the chest press felt surprisingly manageable. Winston completed the set without much difficulty. The following exercises went much the same way. Shoulder presses, rows, Curls, Triceps extensions.
Winston moved through each exercise with increasing confidence. Then came the prone hamstring curl. He lay face down and positioned his legs beneath the padded rollers.
"Go," Boris said.
Winston curled his legs upward. His muscles immediately protested.
He tried again. The ankle weights made the movement considerably harder, forcing him to tighten his thighs and hamstrings just to lift his legs.
"Keep your movements controlled," Boris instructed.
Winston gritted his teeth and continued. By the time he finished the set, sweat covered his forehead. He sat up slowly. For a moment, he expected his legs to feel as heavy as they had earlier.
But something felt different. Winston stood—no dragging—no trembling.
He took a step, then another. He stopped. Wait...
Winston looked down at his feet. He walked toward the other side of the gym. His steps felt normal. He turned around and walked back, still normal.
Boris noticed first. "Hmm."
Dumi looked over, a smile slowly appeared on his face. "Looks like the training is working."
Winston stared at his legs in disbelief before breaking into a wide grin. He took another step, then another. For the first time since the ankle weights had been attached, walking no longer felt like a battle. The pain hadn't disappeared completely, but his body was adapting.
And Winston couldn't help feeling excited. All this hard work... it's actually paying off.
[Nethen Essence: 70%]
[Voltage Core: 70%]