The night passed uneventfully.
Logan drifted off moments later, pulled under by sheer exhaustion.
Evelyn followed soon after, but only once she was certain he was asleep. She had no interest in accidental interactions between them.
A faint unease still lingered in her chest. After all, this was a strange world. But with Logan breathing quietly beside her, it settled enough for sleep to claim her too.
The night drifted by, a smooth breeze moving softly over them both.
Finally, Logan's eyes creased at the corners and snapped open.
For a moment he was disoriented, lost. Then his gaze moved around the room and memory returned — he had been transmigrated into a new world.
'This is my second day here...'
He muttered the thought with a low exhale and stretched to his feet.
[Good morning, Master! Do you wish to complete the daily mission and receive the corresponding rewards?]
'There's something like that?' Logan narrowed his eyes slightly.
[Yes, Master!]
The system flashed and a new line of text materialized in his field of vision.
[Daily Mission: Push-ups x100. Run 100m x100. Sit-ups x100.]
[Mission Difficulty: E]
[Mission Rewards: 3 Free Attribute Points.]
'An E-rank mission?' He turned the thought over briefly.
Nothing else demanded his attention, so he accepted.
'Alright. Let's do this.'
The previous him wouldn't have managed it. But with his enhanced stats, it shouldn't be much of a challenge.
'The hotel should have a training ground somewhere.' He rose and made for the door.
'Before that...' His gaze dropped. He had only the one set of clothes, and what he'd been wearing was already dirty. Nothing else to change into.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and turned toward the wardrobe.
Inside, a neat row of clothes waited — men's and women's both, arranged with quiet preparedness.
'Just as I'd expected. They kept spares for exactly this.'
He skimmed through the options and pulled out something comfortable enough for training. Then he left the room.
At the threshold, his eyes drifted to Evelyn, still sleeping on the bed. Still and composed, the duvet tracing the soft outline of her curves.
'Such a beautiful woman.' He lingered a moment longer than he should have.
'Hah... I can't wait to have you, Evelyn...' The thought rose quietly. He pressed it down, turned away, and stepped into the sitting room.
He scanned the space and noticed what looked like a telephone mounted near the wall.
He walked over and pressed the call button. The line connected at once.
A feminine voice came through.
"Hello, I'm looking for the training ground."
"The training arena? Please indicate your room number."
"Room 29," he said, recalling the number above the door.
"Alright. Give me a moment. I'll be with you shortly."
"Okay." The line went dead.
He slid his hands into his pockets and waited in the quiet.
A few seconds passed. Then a knock at the door.
He opened it without hesitation.
"Good morning, sir!" A woman in a fitted suit greeted him with a professional smile.
Then her expression froze.
She stared at his face, and her heartbeat spiked loud enough for him to hear.
He frowned slightly. "Is there something on my face?" He reached up to check.
"Uh... no... it's..." She stammered, composure gone.
A beat. She looked down, gathered herself, and replied quietly.
"Please come this way. I'll lead you to the training ground."
"Okay." He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.
She led him down the corridor, and every so often she stole a glance in his direction, her face flushing deeper each time.
'When did someone this handsome check in?' Her thoughts were practically audible as she walked, quietly trying to manufacture a reason to ask for his number.
No occasion arose.
They arrived at a wide open field. A training ground sat at its center, ringed by a track where a handful of men were running laps.
"We're here," the maid said, reluctance plain in her voice.
"Thank you." Logan nodded and turned toward the arena.
"Uh... sir..."
He glanced back. "Did something happen?"
She hesitated. Then, shyly: "Can I have your number? If you need anything, you can call me and I'll come right away. Anything." She let the word sit.
"Number?" He shook his head. "Sorry. I don't have a phone."
"Oh." The disappointment on her face was unguarded. She stood there as he walked into the arena, eyes trailing after him, and only after a full minute had passed did she finally turn to leave.
Inside, Logan took stock of the space and settled on a sequence.
'Start with the run. Then sit-ups. Push-ups last.'
He reached the track and set off.
Swoosh!
The 100-meter stretch blurred past in under eight seconds.
'What?' His brows lifted. He hadn't expected that.
His breathing hadn't changed. Not even slightly. The run had barely registered.
'I could do this all day.' He kept going.
Swoosh.
His pace sharpened and the next lap came in at 7.9 seconds.
He didn't stop.
The sound of it drew attention. One by one, the men at the training equipment turned and stared.
"Who's that? He's so fast."
"What kind of speed is that?" someone muttered, disbelief edging his voice.
"Is he... an Origin Warrior?" another said, his expression caught between shock and something harder to name.
They stood and watched as Logan finished all one hundred laps in a matter of minutes.
He came to a stop and wiped the thin film of sweat from his brow.
'Onto the next.' He walked to the center of the field and ignored the stares.
Then the women in the crowd got a clear look at his face, and the reaction was immediate.
"He's... too handsome." Even one of the men said it, almost involuntarily.
"How does someone look like that and still smell this good?"
His hair was damp from the sprints, but it didn't undercut the effect. If anything, it deepened it.
'This shirt will be soaked through by the time I'm done with the sit-ups.' He considered it briefly, then pulled it off.
Every eye in the space widened. A perfectly sculpted chest, a defined abdomen, not a trace of excess anywhere on his frame. Not all of it was the charm stat. The raw increase in physical strength had reshaped him just as thoroughly.
He exhaled and began.