After waking up in Hayakawa-san's tent, Mizuno didn't waste a single minute lying around.
He first returned to the waterfall and thanked Hayakawa-san—still meditating there—for saving him the night before. Then, after expressing his gratitude, he headed deeper into the forest to find a quiet, sheltered spot where he could pitch his own tent and set up a personal campsite.
With somewhere safe to rest, Mizuno immediately threw himself back into training, climbing the northern mountain once more as dawn broke—beginning another round of Master Jin's brutal four-part regimen.
Days blurred together in a punishing rhythm: enduring pain by day, collapsing into dreamless sleep by night, letting Fortune's energy repair what was left of his body.
A week passed like that.
But in that single week, Mizuno's endurance had skyrocketed. He'd even developed a few rough techniques for dispersing impact—skills born from pure, painful repetition.
During the mountain roll, he learned how to loosen his body and absorb the blows, no longer blacking out when his head hit rocks. By the time he reached the bottom, he could stand up, brush off the dirt, and walk away like it was nothing.
The swamp crossing had also become routine. The mud no longer drained him as much, and even when a crocodile lunged, Mizuno would twist into his own death roll, matching its spin until it grew dizzy—then shove it aside with a casual punch before moving on.
Even the bear chase had become manageable.
His improved stamina and speed now let him easily outrun both Big Bear and Little Bear. Though they could still hit car-like speeds, Mizuno could weave through the trees too quickly for them to catch. Of course, he never actually stole their honey in the end—he always tossed the hive back before escaping, leaving the two bears roaring in confused fury behind him.
And the waterfall meditation—the most dreaded part—had turned into the easiest.
What once felt like a merciless torrent now just felt like a vigorous back massage. Sitting beneath the falls for two hours barely counted as training anymore; Mizuno sometimes even found himself humming under the spray.
He'd also gotten used to talking with Hayakawa-san while she meditated beside him, though every time he spoke, she would stiffen slightly, cheeks flushed, her breathing uneven—as if trying to suppress something far beyond simple irritation at his interruptions.
Still, Mizuno felt confident. He had mastered all four stages of Master Jin's program and believed he now met the endurance threshold to withstand multiple Uma Musume strikes.
So, at noon that day, he approached Hayakawa-san with a serious request:
Would she test his endurance herself?
The two stood facing each other on an open meadow near the waterfall, sunlight spilling through the trees, birds chirping softly overhead. The air was calm and clean—perfect for a duel.
Mizuno stood rooted in a horse stance, fists drawn to his waist, trying to imitate the "Golden Bell Shield" pose he'd seen in martial arts dramas. Of course, he didn't actually know the technique—it was purely for morale.
Opposite him stood Hayakawa-san, once again in her signature green suit and hat, looking uncertain.
"Trainer Mizuno… are you sure about this?" she asked, clenching her fists uneasily. "I really don't want to hurt you."
Her hands looked small, delicate—almost soft enough to seem harmless. But Mizuno knew better. If she hit with all her might, she could punch through twenty centimeters of steel.
An Uma Musume's true power wasn't something the human eye could measure. Even a young one, barely knee-high, could toss a grown man like a rag doll. And Hayakawa-san was no ordinary Uma Musume—her real identity was Tokino Minoru, the undefeated champion who once dominated Japan's racing scene.
Her full strength could probably rival even President Rudolf's.
But the greater the risk, the greater the reward.
If Mizuno could withstand just one of her full-strength blows, he would have truly proven his body's toughness—and earned the right to learn Master Jin's secret technique.
"Yes, Hayakawa-san," Mizuno said, swallowing hard but standing tall. "This is really important to me. Don't hold back—hit me with everything you've got."
His words were bold, but the slight tremor in his legs betrayed his nerves. He'd fought Uma Musume before, but never volunteered to be hit by one. The sheer pressure radiating from Hayakawa-san—calm, focused—was more terrifying than anything he'd faced.
"…Alright then."
Hayakawa stepped forward, eyes narrowing, her expression suddenly sharpening into the calm focus of a seasoned fighter.
"I'm coming now!"
"Mm!" Mizuno braced himself, jaw tight.
"Haah!"
Her voice was sweet, but the punch was anything but.
BOOM!
"Puah—!"
It felt like being hit by a freight train. The impact blasted Mizuno off his feet, spinning him in midair like a rag doll before he crashed into the pond twenty meters away, sending up a geyser of water.
"Trainer Mizuno!" Hayakawa cried, dashing over. She knelt at the water's edge, hauling his limp, soaked body out.
"I'm… not… dead yet…" Mizuno croaked, barely lifting a trembling thumb.
Compared to crocodiles or bears, Uma Musume were on a whole other level. Hayakawa's single punch had momentarily sent his soul to the afterlife. He could've sworn he saw his great-grandmother waving at him across a misty river, offering him a bowl of soup.
But he'd politely refused—and came crashing back into his body instead.
Every bone screamed in pain; his organs felt rearranged; his chest was a blazing inferno of numbness and nausea. But—he was conscious. He could move. That meant it counted.
He'd endured it.
"I did it!" he gasped, raising both fists weakly in triumph despite the agony. "I survived!"
That was it—proof he'd achieved true endurance. Proof he was ready for Master Jin's ultimate move.
He could already imagine it: returning to Tracen, mastering the legendary wrestling technique, defeating El Condor Pasa in one glorious match!
"Woohoo!" Mizuno shouted, half-laughing, half-choking on pain.
"…"
Hayakawa watched him celebrate, guilt flickering across her face. She bit her lip and looked away.
Because the truth was—she hadn't used her full strength.
She'd only punched with about half power.
"...I hope this doesn't cause trouble for Trainer Mizuno later," she murmured softly, guilt tightening her chest as he grinned up at her, blissfully unaware.