It's the early hours of the morning; the city looks abandoned. Ulim walks along in multiple layers of clothing, his heavy breath instantly condensing in the cold air. A large bag weighs on his back as he trudges forward.
"Finally," he mutters under his breath as he drops the bag.
The door slides open as he drags it inside.
"H-hello…?"
The place seems empty. He checks his phone again.
"It's supposed to be open…"
He sits on a chair adjacent to the receptionist desk. His phone quickly becomes a distraction. What did he even come here for? A few minutes pass.
"Hey kid, can I help you?"
A bald, brown, muscular man now stands behind the desk.
Ulim startles back to life. "Ah—sir—I mean…"
"Do you have a speech impediment or something?"
"No."
"Okay then. What can I help you with?"
"I'm looking for a gym."
"Well, you're already in one. Anything else?"
Ulim grabs his bag and starts dragging it further into the establishment.
"Wait a minute. Are you moving in here or something?"
Ulim drops the bag again. "No, sir. This is just my stuff for training."
The man scans Ulim for a moment.
"You've never done this before, have you, kid?"
Ulim tries to remain cool to hide his embarrassment, but he fails.
The man smiles. "Fresh blood."
He strolls around Ulim, checking his posture and muscles. Ulim is not fond of the situation. The silence feels uncomfortable for the first time.
"Anyway, I'm Ashura." He extends his hand to Ulim.
"I'm Ulim, sir."
His hand almost fractures from the grip.
"If you need any help, just shout — and drop the 'sir'."
Ashura disappears into the back room.
Ulim is left alone. The equipment looks foreign to him. Where should he start? He has seen videos of people lifting weights. Maybe he should start there.
"Which ones do I start with?"
He stares at the dumbbell options. He finally commits to one.
It won't budge.
He checks the tag. 15 kg.
He looks at his palms and wonders why he is so weak. Is it because he just got out of the hospital? That could be a factor… but 15 kg? He should be able to lift that. His sister weighs more than that.
"You okay, kid? Don't know where to start?"
Ashura walks over.
"The truth is, most people are not as weak as they think. They're just afraid of finding out exactly how weak they are."
He picks up a 30 kg dumbbell.
"And that fear is what stops them from trying."
He drops the dumbbell into Ulim's arms. Ulim's body jolts downward. He catches himself just before it hits the ground.
"There you go." Ashura slaps Ulim's back. "So why are you training? Is it for a girl? Most of the time, it's usually a girl. Hope she appreciates it, kid."
He walks away.
Ulim is left alone, struggling with the weight. He has only managed six reps — well, four clean reps and two acceptable ones.
---
It's already 1 p.m.Ulim has been in the gym for six hours. He is using the last of his strength to drag himself to the showers. He can't even lift his bag anymore.
The door of the gym opens.
"You're late."
"Late? I'm the customer here."
He drops his bag on one of the chairs.
"And that's no way to talk to your most loyal customer," the man grins.
"Well, you might have competition for that position, buddy." Ashura points toward a bag further inside the gym. "He's been here for like five hours."
"Really? Must be a determined guy."
"You have no idea."
Ulim finally walks out of the showers with a towel on his head. He fails to see the man sitting with Ashura as he walks toward his bag. Both men stare at him.
"Hey kid."
Ulim throws the towel into his bag and turns around.
"I would like you to meet a good buddy of mine, J—"
Both men freeze for two completely different reasons. Ulim from surprise and a bit of embarrassment. Jack from relief mixed with fear of recognition.
"—If you keep at it, you could look like him."
Ashura shifts his gaze between the two men.
"Am I missing something here? Do you two know each other or something?"
Jack's stern expression begins to slip.
"Well, I kind of—"
"He saved me from a thug once," Ulim says quickly.
"Oh… didn't know about that."
Ashura's side-eye pierces Jack's soul.
"I was just in the area," Jack brushes it off.
Jack picks up his bag and walks toward the barbells.
"Nice to see that you're doing well, kid."
He taps Ulim's shoulder as he passes by.
---
"Only winners get to make the rules. There is no position other than first. Do you understand that, son?"
A massive 10×10 metre tungsten cube hovers above the floor. Under it stands Mark, veins bulging, sweat dripping.
The cube begins to drop.
He is at his limit.
With one final push, he flips the cube onto its side and lets it crash onto the floor. He collapses to his knees, trying to catch his breath.
A series of slow claps echoes through the room.
"The future Number One."
Oken walks into the room.
"I was right about you."
He glides his hand along the cube.
"You're already stronger than your father was at this age."
"Really?" Mark beams.
"Yes. And you still have so much potential to unlock."
He slaps Mark's chest.
"I just came here to say good luck in the games."
"Thank you, sir."
Oken waves a hand as he walks out of the room.