The winter sun had barely risen when Ajay jogged into the district ground. His breath made short clouds in the cold air, but there was a heat inside him that had nothing to do with the weather. He knew today wouldn't be about batting or bowling.
It would be about the one thing he had ignored in his first life until it was too late—fitness.
Coach Rajinder was already there, standing with a clipboard, stopwatch, and an expression that meant business. "Ajay," he said without preamble, "today we see what that running and skipping rope has done for you."
A few teammates were milling about, stretching casually. Ajay's closest friend in the squad, Deepak, whispered, "Careful. The old man's in testing mode. Last time he made someone puke after the sprints."
Ajay only smiled. "Good. Then I'll know I gave it everything."
The Sprint Test
First up: forty-meter sprints.
The coach explained the rules: "We time you from a standing start. Four attempts. Fastest one counts. Then, we see if you can repeat it after thirty seconds rest. That's how we measure match stamina, not just raw speed."
In his past life, Ajay would have dreaded this. Even in his early twenties, his legs had felt heavy, his belly bouncing with each stride. The embarrassment of lagging behind fitter teammates had cut deeper than the physical pain.
But now, his body felt lighter. The system's fitness stat wasn't just a number—it translated into real efficiency in every muscle fiber.
"Ready," the coach called.
Ajay crouched, eyes fixed on the painted white line ahead. The whistle blew, and he exploded forward. His feet hit the turf with quick, rhythmic thuds. His arms pumped in perfect sync.
"Five-point-four seconds!" the coach shouted.
Murmurs went around the group. That was near state-level speed.
"Again," Rajinder ordered.
Ajay jogged back, took his mark, and went again. His time barely dipped—5.46 seconds.
By the fourth sprint, sweat was beading on his forehead, but his breathing was steady.
The system chimed faintly in his mind:
Fitness (Stamina) – 982/1,000
The Beep Test
Next came the beep test—a relentless shuttle run drill designed to push cardio endurance. Two cones were placed twenty meters apart. Each beep from the speaker meant you had to reach the opposite cone. As the test progressed, the beeps came faster.
Ajay remembered failing at Level 7 in his past life, chest heaving, legs trembling. Today, he set a quiet target—Level 12 at least.
The first few levels were easy, almost relaxing. His strides were smooth, breath deep and controlled. Teammates began dropping off at Level 8. By Level 10, only three runners remained.
At Level 12, the coach was watching him closely. Ajay's shirt was soaked, but his form hadn't broken. His strides remained purposeful, his footwork tight.
By Level 13, he was the last man running. The coach finally called it. "Enough. Save your legs for the season."
The system rewarded him instantly:
Fitness (Stamina) – Level Up to 4
New Effect: Fatigue recovery speed increased by 20%
Strength and Core Drills
Coach Rajinder moved them to the grass. "Now we see if those muscles are just for show."
Push-ups first—standard form, chest touching the ground, arms locking out at the top. Ajay had done plenty in private, but this was public, with the entire team counting.
"One… two… three…"
The count reached forty before anyone realized he wasn't slowing down. Fifty came and went. At seventy, Deepak muttered, "He's a machine."
He stopped at eighty, not because he had to, but because the coach nodded in approval.
Next came plank holds. Ajay locked his elbows, keeping his body straight. His core burned, shoulders ached, but his breathing stayed calm. The system ticked upward steadily with every passing second.
Core Strength – 641/1,000
Agility and Reflex Test
For cricket, raw speed wasn't enough. You needed to change direction in an instant—chasing a ball in the outfield, turning mid-run for a second run, diving for a catch.
The coach set up an agility ladder and a series of cones. Ajay's task was to sprint, side-step, backpedal, and weave through without knocking a cone over.
His footwork was sharp, almost automatic now. Against the ladder's narrow gaps, he never stumbled. Years of clumsy movement in his first life were gone—replaced by precision born from both training and the system's quiet guidance.
The final drill was a reaction test—standing in slip position while the coach deflected balls randomly with a bat. Ajay's hands seemed to know where the ball would go before it moved. The "Fielding Reflex" stat in his mind ticked up rapidly.
The Coach's Verdict
When it was over, Ajay's shirt clung to him, his muscles ached, but the satisfaction was pure.
Rajinder scribbled something on his clipboard, then looked up. "Ajay, in twenty years of coaching, I've seen maybe three players improve this much in one season. If you keep this up, you won't just make the Ranji team—you'll lead it."
The praise hit harder than any applause. In his first life, he had been the player who wasted his promise. Now, he was becoming the one who fulfilled it.
System Summary – End of Day Stats
Fitness (Stamina) – Level 4
Sprint Speed – 745/1,000
Core Strength – 641/1,000
Fielding Reflex – 582/1,000
Fatigue Recovery – +20%
The numbers glowed faintly before fading, leaving Ajay with a simple thought:
Every run I score in the future will come because I put in days like this.