998...
999...
1000!
Phew, now I can check off the 'thousand sword swings' on my to-do list. Now all that's left is the 1000 push-ups, 1000 squats, 1000 burpees...
Agonising over the 5 remaining sets of basic exercises he had left, Natsuki wiped his sweat from his slightly ripped body (mate, even for gaining muscles, you need time- and don't even think of taking le roids, don't y'all know the shitting consequences of taking 'em!?). As he laid down his 50-kilo steel sword (again, iron rusts easily- tetanus ain't no joke...).
Though the exercises were basic in nature, they helped Natsuki clear his mind from the shitshows that occurred after he came here:
Seeing floating cows glitching in the air, mooing like it was in Europe in the '90s...
Arrows bouncing off shields with ridiculously bad animations, to the point where Natsuki actually had to stave off banging his head in sheer frustration at the farcical scene (if it were a game, he would've actually gone to the developer's house and have strangled him with a fibre-optic cable!)
But the worst of them all were the scenes of people 'walking on the spot' whenever they reached a wall
For fucks sake, I did not pay E**C G***S for this crap!
Throwing down the sword back into his subspace, Natsuki hobbled to the nearest wooden bucket, where he grabbed one of the towels lying on the edge, dousing it in the warm, bubbling water, before smacking it onto his face. Resisting the urge to moan like a pervert, Natsuki soaked in the comfort provided by the warmth, beofre head8ng back in, arms aching from the brutal exercise.
All that the 9 words did was just remould his body
Sure, he was stronger than before, but it didn't make him as ridiculously strong as those manwhores in Manhuas. Touching his slightly bulging packs, he sighed resignedly, before heading in for his beauty sleep.
When will I get dem muscles to make the ladies swoon over me...
Mind still focused on a certain fairy, he failed to notice the stare given to him from a window hidden in the corner, gaze soft...
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Knock, knock, knock...
Rubbing his sleepy head, Nastuki rose from.his bed, heading towards the door where the incessant knocking was coming from. "Who the f– oh hey, it's you Vy..."
Faster than you could say 'Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia', Natsuki closed the door and started changing clothes (bathroom was already done before, you dirty lechers!). Vylara could only smirk as she heard what were presumably Natsuki banging his knees on the furniture as he changed. It also did not help that he screamed like a girl every time he did so...
Within a minute, Natsuki appeared before her again, this time kitted out in his signature plain blue shirt and a pair of 'dirty' jeans. Combing through his slick (that's what he thought) hair, Natsuki leaned on the porch. "Hey Vy, what's up...?"
Rolling her eyes at the stupid stunt she grabbed his hands, ignoring his attempt to doll himself up (to be honest, it's not the first time someone did it to impress her– and they did it with much better flair and panache than Natsuki anyway...)
"Wanna come with me to the streets...?"