9,998…
9,999…
10,000!
I pushed myself up slowly, exhaling through my nose as the extra hundred pounds on my back shifted slightly. My arms burned, but not enough to stop me. Not anymore.
Ten thousand push-ups.
Weighted.
At this point, it wasn't even a challenge—just part of the routine.
Six years of training like a maniac and my naturally monstrous physique would do that.
"Midas! Come, breakfast is ready!" my mom called from downstairs.
"Coming!"
I grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off my face and arms before heading out of my room. My muscles still felt warm, but the fatigue was already fading. Another perk of being born with abnormal strength and constitution, I mused.
A few moments later, I changed my clothes and made my way downstairs to the dining room.
Waffles. Eggs. Sausage.
All gold.
The shine alone would've blinded a normal person. To me, it was just breakfast.
"Thanks for the food, Mom," I said, sitting down and digging in.
The texture, the taste—it all registered as normal in my brain. At this point, my body treated gold like actual food, and honestly, I wasn't complaining.
Plate after plate disappeared. I didn't even slow down. By the time I finished, the table looked like it had been cleared by a vacuum.
I stood up immediately.
"I'm heading out!"
Before she could respond, I was halfway to the door.
"…Off to see that pervert's son again," Cybele sighed behind me.
The city passed in a blur as I ran. Cars, people, noise—none of it mattered. My focus stayed forward, feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm. I wasn't going all out, but I wasn't holding back much either.
Central Park came into view. My training ground.
I slowed slightly as I entered, weaving through the trees before making my way up the familiar hill.
Tony was already there, same spot as always—sitting under a tree, completely relaxed, a book open in his hands like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Hey, nerd. I'm here," I called out.
"Took you long enough, metal head," he replied without looking up.
"Yeah, yeah. You ready or what?"
He closed the book and stood, stretching slightly before getting into position.
"Always."
He started his routine—clean, controlled movements, no wasted energy.
I turned to a nearby tree and placed my hand on it.
Gold.
The transformation happened instantly, the bark and leaves shifting into solid metal in less than a second. The sunlight hit it just right, making it shine.
But I didn't stop there.
I focused. Compressed. Forced the structure tighter, pushing the molecular bonds closer together. Regular gold was soft—but this wasn't regular anymore. This was something else.
Then I lifted it.
The ground cracked as the roots tore free, dirt falling away as the entire tree rose into the air under my control. It felt heavy—but stable.
"Yeah… you've definitely improved," Tony said from behind me, pausing mid-set to watch.
"A month ago, you couldn't even lift one of those."
"Control's better," I replied. That was the difference. Anyone could have power. Control was what made it dangerous.
I tightened my grip mentally and crushed the tree inward, compressing it until it split into three smooth spheres. Perfectly round. Then I reshaped them into human-sized eastern dragons.
…But they looked wonky. Their bodies were uneven, the scales messy, and the faces off—like a kid had drawn them.
Tony stared for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"HAHA—those look terrible!" he mocked.
I shot him a glare.
"Oh, do they now? I think you might need a closer look."
The dragons shot toward him, mouths open, flying fast.
Tony reacted quickly, pulling out a small disc and throwing it forward. A glowing barrier formed just in time as the gold slammed into it, spreading like liquid before hardening again.
"You could've killed me!" he yelled.
"Well, you deserved that for being annoying."
He tapped the disc, smirking. "Oh yeah? I improved this portable barrier my father made. Perfect time to test your damage output."
"…You sure about that?" I challenged.
"Try me."
I stepped forward. Then vanished.
To him, at least.
In reality, I had already closed the distance in an instant.
I was in front of him before he could react.
I threw a punch with almost all my strength.
BOOM!
The barrier shattered immediately, cracks spreading as it broke into glowing fragments. Powerful gusts of wind made some small trees collapse, and dust filled the air. I stomped the ground, sending another gust through the cloud to clear the view.
Tony blinked once… then sighed.
"I keep forgetting how ridiculous you are. That barrier could tank a semi-truck going nearly 200 miles per hour—and you just broke it in one hit."
I looked down at my fist.
"…So my punches are that strong now? I can't wait to get to the level where I can crush mountains with my fists like Garp."
A second passed. Maybe two. Then—
Thump.
Something hit my stomach.
I snapped out of my thoughts and looked down. Tony was shaking his hand, wincing in pain.
"Crap—that hurt! I've been calling your name for the past minute!"
"My bad," I said. "But that's on you for punching me."
"I was trying to get your attention!"
He shook his hand again, exhaling.
"Whatever. I'm done for today. Also, my dad said we're getting put into boxing and Muay Thai classes soon."
"Finally," I said, slipping my shoes back on.
"I know, right? We're gonna learn how to kick butt without looking stupid."
"Haha yeah, but you'll be the only one looking stupid while fighting," he teased, sending me a glare.
He picked up his book, slid the disc into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. With a press, it unfolded into a sleek bike.
I shook my head.
"I still can't imagine how many weird, useful gadgets you and your dad have made."
"Well, there's more coming since you gave me the idea for the armor suit," he said. "Still stuck on the power source, by the way."
"We'll figure it out tomorrow."
"Yeah. See you Monday."
"Later."
I turned back to the large puddle of gold nearby. With a thought, I reshaped it into a pure golden surfboard. I stepped onto it, hardening the surface and fusing it slightly to my shoes for stability.
Then I lifted it. It hovered just inches above the ground.
"…You actually got it working," Tony said, pausing before leaving.
"Yeah," I replied, grinning. "Took long enough."
"Don't crash."
"No promises."
He smirked as the bike drove off smoothly.
I focused. Then rose higher. Ten feet. The board stayed stable. Good. I leaned forward and pushed.
I shot through the air. Flying.
Wind rushed past me as the ground blurred beneath. I adjusted my stance, focusing on balance and control. Every small shift mattered. Too much pressure and the board destabilized. Too little and I'd lose momentum. I kept it steady.
Minutes later, my house came into view.
"Alright… slow down."
I leaned back, trying to reduce my speed—but not enough.
CRASH!
I slammed into the backyard, dirt and debris flying as a crater formed.
I groaned. "…Yeah. That could've gone better."
"MIDAS!! WHAT IS GOING ON IN MY BACKYARD?!" my mom yelled from inside.
I froze. "…I'm dead."
She rushed outside, glaring at the destroyed garden, anger barely contained.
"I can explain—"
"Don't," she cut me off. "Go to your room. Now. Before I decide you don't need hair anymore."
…Nope.
I vanished upstairs, locked my door, and collapsed onto my bed.
Safe.
I exhaled, sweat forming at the thought of her threatening scissors.
"…Yeah. I really need to work on control before I even attempt flight."
Training. Tony. Flying. Crashing.
A small smirk formed. "…Still worth it."
My eyes slowly closed as fatigue finally caught up to me.
Tomorrow… more training.
To be continued…