The gym's fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Jayden stared at the intimidating wall of machines and free weights. Through the glass partition, he could see people who looked like they'd been sculpted from marble—all defined muscles and confident movements. A few glanced his way, taking in his bruised face and scrawny frame with expressions ranging from pity to barely concealed amusement.
Start small, he told himself, echoing the system's earlier advice. Build momentum.
He approached what looked like the least threatening machine—a chest press with adjustable weights. The instructional diagram showed a smiling cartoon figure demonstrating proper form, making it look effortless. Jayden set the weight to the lowest setting and positioned himself on the padded seat.
The first push nearly made him cry out. Every muscle in his torso screamed in protest, his injured ribs sending lightning bolts of agony through his chest. But underneath the pain, he could feel something else—the faint echo of the system's enhancement, like a whisper of strength waiting to be unlocked.
He managed three repetitions before his arms gave out completely.
"Easy there, Rocky."
Jayden looked up to find Trina standing beside the machine, arms crossed and an expression of professional concern on her face. She'd traded her protein shake for a clipboard, apparently making rounds to check on gym members.
"You look like you went ten rounds with a heavyweight," she continued, nodding toward his face. "Maybe start with some light cardio instead of trying to bench press your body weight on day one."
"I wasn't—" Jayden started, but Trina was already adjusting the machine settings.
"Twenty pounds. Work on form before you worry about weight." She demonstrated the proper motion—slow, controlled, breathing out on the push. "Your body's been through trauma. Pushing too hard too fast will just set you back."
Jayden wanted to argue, to prove he wasn't as weak as he looked. But when he tried the exercise again with Trina's guidance, he managed eight repetitions before muscle failure. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
"Better," Trina said with approval. "Now try fifteen minutes on the treadmill—walking pace, not running. Your body needs to remember what it feels like to move properly before you ask it to do anything heroic."
The next hour was a masterclass in humility. Every exercise revealed new depths of weakness Jayden hadn't known he possessed. His legs shook after five minutes on the treadmill. His arms burned after a single set of push-ups—modified push-ups, done from his knees like some middle school kid who'd never seen the inside of a gym.
But he pushed through. When his muscles screamed, he remembered Jake's boot connecting with his ribs. When his lungs burned, he thought about Cindy's laughter echoing through the hallway. When everything inside him begged to quit, he pictured the golden text promising transformation.
[DAILY QUEST PROGRESS: 30 minutes exercise completed]
[+5 XP AWARDED]
[BONUS: First gym session completed under adverse conditions]
[+10 XP AWARDED]
Trina checked on him twice more during the session, offering adjustments and encouragement that somehow never felt condescending. When he finally stumbled toward the exit, soaked in sweat and trembling with exhaustion, she called out from behind the front desk.
"Same time tomorrow?"
Jayden paused at the door, his hand on the push bar. Every fiber of his being wanted to say no, to pretend this had been a one-time experiment in self-improvement. But the system's presence hummed at the back of his mind, patient and implacable.
"Yeah," he managed. "Same time tomorrow."
Instead of heading to the gas station for his evening shift, Jayden turned toward home. The decision felt both rebellious and terrifying—he'd never called in sick to work, never missed a shift without advance notice. But his body was screaming for rest, and he was fairly certain Mr. Patel wouldn't mind given the circumstances of last night.
The walk home took twice as long as usual. His legs felt like they were made of lead, and every step sent fresh waves of fatigue through his already battered frame. By the time he climbed the three flights to apartment 3B, he was practically crawling.
He collapsed onto his bed without bothering to change clothes, and consciousness fled like water down a drain.
Jayden woke to the sound of sizzling onions and the warm glow of lamplight filtering under his bedroom door. His phone screen showed 10:17 PM—he'd been asleep for over four hours. His body felt like it had been taken apart and reassembled by someone who wasn't quite sure how all the pieces fit together.
[DAILY QUEST REMINDER: Additional tasks pending]
The system's notification floated in his peripheral vision, gentle but insistent. Right—he'd completed the exercise requirement, but there were other daily objectives to handle.
In the kitchen, Carmen stood at the stove, stirring something that smelled like salvation. She'd changed out of her scrubs into an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. The sight of her cooking instead of him sent a pang of guilt through his chest.
"Hey," she said without looking up as he shuffled into the room. "You're alive. I was starting to worry."
"Sorry," Jayden mumbled, slumping into one of their mismatched kitchen chairs. "I should have made dinner. I just—"
"Relax, baby brother. It's just scrambled eggs and whatever vegetables were about to go bad." Carmen glanced at him over her shoulder, and her expression softened with concern. "You look like death warmed over. Rough day?"
Jayden tried to think of a response that wouldn't lead to more questions about his injuries. "Just tired. Long day at school."
Carmen turned back to the stove, but he could see the tension in her shoulders. She wanted to push, to dig deeper, but something held her back. Maybe she sensed how close he was to breaking completely.
"Speaking of school," she said carefully, "how are your grades? I know you've been working a lot, but graduation is coming up fast."
"I'm working on improving them," Jayden said, which was technically true if he counted the system's quest as work. "Trying to study more, focus better in class."
"Good." Carmen's voice carried a note of relief. "I know it's hard with everything going on—Dad's situation, the bills, working nights. But education is your way out of this shithole, Jay. It's the only way any of us get out."
She divided the scrambled eggs between two plates and set one in front of him. The food was simple but perfect—exactly what his exhausted body needed.
"I mean it," she continued, settling into the chair across from him. "Look at me. I'm twenty-two, working nights as a nursing assistant while trying to get through community college. It's going to take me six years to get a degree that should take four, and even then I'll be lucky to find a job that pays enough to get us out of debt."
Jayden picked at his eggs, thinking about the system's impossible quests. Five hundred dollars. A prom date. Making someone apologize publicly. Each one felt like trying to climb Mount Everest with a broken leg.
"But you," Carmen continued, "you're smart. Smarter than you give yourself credit for. If you can get your grades up, apply for scholarships, maybe get into a decent college..."
She trailed off, but the implication hung in the air. College meant escape. It meant a future where he wasn't counting quarters to buy lunch, where his clothes didn't come from thrift stores, where people like Jake Reeves couldn't corner him behind a gas station counter and beat him bloody.
"I'm going to try," he said quietly. "I'm going to try to be better."
Carmen reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I know you will. You just have to believe in yourself."
If only it were that simple, Jayden thought, but he squeezed back and managed what he hoped was a convincing smile.
After dinner, he helped Carmen clean up despite her protests that he should rest. The simple domestic routine felt normal in a way nothing else had for days—washing dishes, wiping counters, putting things back where they belonged. For a few minutes, he could almost forget about conquest systems and impossible quests.
But when Carmen headed to bed, claiming she had an early anatomy lab, the weight of his new reality settled back over him like a lead blanket.
[DAILY QUEST STATUS: 1 of 3 completed]
[REMAINING: Personal hygiene routine, 30 minutes of academic study]
The personal hygiene quest was straightforward enough—shower, brush teeth, basic grooming that he'd been neglecting in his depression spiral. The shower revealed new bruises he hadn't noticed before, purple and yellow patches that mapped Jake's methodical violence across his ribs and back.
But the water was warm, and for the first time in days he felt clean. More importantly, he felt like himself again—not the broken thing that had been left bleeding on the gas station floor, but Jayden Martinez with a plan and a path forward.
The study requirement was harder. His textbooks felt like they were written in a foreign language, and his battered brain struggled to focus on anything more complex than basic reading comprehension. But he forced himself through thirty minutes of math problems, highlighting key concepts for Friday's test.
[DAILY QUESTS COMPLETED]
[+15 XP AWARDED (5+5+5)]
[LEVEL 2: 75/200 XP]
Sitting on his bed with his books spread around him, Jayden finally allowed himself to think seriously about the other quests. The gym membership had been expensive but achievable. The grades would require work but were within the realm of possibility if he actually applied himself.
The other three, though...
Finding a prom date seemed impossible. After yesterday's public humiliation, he was pretty sure no girl in school would be caught dead with him. The social stigma alone would make him toxic—and that was before accounting for his complete lack of money for tickets, tuxedo rental, dinner, or any of the other expensive rituals that surrounded prom.
Making someone apologize publicly felt even more hopeless. People like Tyler and Jake didn't apologize—they doubled down. They had social armor that deflected consequences, families with money and connections that smoothed over any rough edges their behavior might create.
But the money quest... that one sparked something in his mind. Five hundred dollars through means other than his current job. It was a substantial amount, but not completely impossible. He just needed to think outside the box.
His phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Patel: Hope you are feeling better. Take tomorrow off if you need it. Will fix camera this week.
The message was kind, but it also highlighted Jayden's financial vulnerability. Missing shifts meant less money, and less money meant his family sank deeper into the hole they were already in.
But what if there were other ways to make money? What if he could leverage skills he didn't even know he had?
An idea began to form—nebulous at first, then sharper as he thought it through. It was risky, maybe even stupid, but it might actually work. And if the system was going to make him stronger, smarter, more capable, maybe it was time to start thinking like someone who could actually pull it off.
Jayden opened his laptop—a ancient thing Carmen had bought secondhand for her college classes—and began to research. If he was going to change his life, he needed to understand exactly what he was getting into.
The conquest system hummed approvingly in the back of his mind, sensing his shift from passive victim to active player. This was what it had been waiting for—not just desperation, but determination.
Now we begin, the voice whispered. Now we truly begin.