The morning was quiet.
A thin layer of fog covered the long, empty road ahead.
Benji walked alone, his backpack resting against his shoulders.
"So… this is how it starts."
His shoes scraped softly against the ground.
They were already worn out.
Still, he kept walking.
A signboard stood ahead, pointing toward different towns.
Benji stopped.
He looked at each direction carefully.
Left.
Right.
Forward.
He hesitated.
"I don't even know where I'm going."
For a moment, he just stood there.
Then—
He chose a path.
And walked.
Memories followed him.
His mother's smile.
Warm. Gentle.
Then—
His father's eyes.
Serious. Unyielding.
Benji clenched his fist.
"I can't stop now."
A small town appeared ahead.
Quiet streets.
Open shops.
People walking normally.
Benji watched silently.
"The world didn't stop… even when mine did."
In a small open ground, a group of kids practiced punches.
They were younger than him.
But faster.
Sharper.
Stronger.
Benji stood at a distance, observing every movement.
"They're younger than me… but stronger."
He moved to a corner and tried copying them.
One punch.
Then another.
His stance was unstable.
His balance was weak.
His foot slipped—
And he fell.
The ground hit him hard.
Laughter echoed nearby.
Not cruel.
Just children.
"Hey, are you okay?" one of them asked.
Benji stood up quickly, brushing off the dust.
"Yeah… I'm fine."
Later, he sat under a tree.
Alone.
"I really am weak."
Elliot's voice echoed in his mind.
"You don't need talent. You need resolve."
Benji looked at his hands.
They trembled slightly.
He started training.
Push-ups.
One.
Two.
Three—
By the fifth, his arms gave out.
He collapsed onto the ground.
Breathing heavily.
Sweat dripped from his face.
But after a moment—
He pushed himself up again.
Early morning.
Empty streets.
Benji ran.
Step after step.
His breathing grew uneven.
His chest burned.
He stopped.
Bent forward.
Gasping.
Still—
He didn't quit.
He stood in front of a wooden pole.
Raised his fist.
And punched.
A dull sound echoed.
Pain shot through his hand instantly.
He pulled back, holding it tightly.
His knuckles turned red.
"It hurts…"
A pause.
"But I'm still standing."
Night came.
Benji found shelter under a broken roof.
The ground was cold.
The air quiet.
He lay down, closing his eyes.
Then—
Rain began to fall.
Soft at first.
Then heavier.
He woke up, wet.
Cold.
He sat up, pulling his bag closer.
"I'm really alone now"
Silence.
Then—
His eyes changed.
Calm.
Steady.
"But I won't run."
Morning came again.
Benji stood up.
Push-ups.
This time—
Eight.
He dropped to the ground, breathing hard.
But a small smile appeared.
Progress.
He ran again.
This time—
A little farther.
His steps were still slow.
But more stable.
He practiced punches.
His stance—
Still imperfect.
But better.
Another town.
Different atmosphere.
Rougher.
He could feel it immediately.
Two men sparred in the open.
No crowd.
No noise.
Just movement.
Precise.
Controlled.
Benji watched closely.
"they're not strong… but they're smart."
He focused on their feet.
Their timing.
Their rhythm.
Slowly—
He tried copying them.
Step by step.
A sudden bump.
A local teen walked into him.
"Watch it a person is coping you two."
The moment froze.
Silence.
Benji looked at him.
Then—
He stepped back.
"Sorry."
The teen blinked, surprised.
Then walked away.
Benji exhaled slowly.
"I didn't freeze."
Later, he sat alone again.
Eating simple food.
Quiet.
He looked at his bruises.
Then at his hands.
They were steady now.
"I'm still weak…"
A pause.
"But I'm changing."
The road split ahead into multiple paths.
This time—
Benji didn't stop.
He chose one.
And kept walking.
"I don't know how strong I'll become."
Step by step.
Forward.
"But I'll keep moving."
The sun began to rise behind him.
Light spreading across the road.
And Benji kept moving forward.