Arthur let out a quiet breath through his nose as the corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest fork of smirk. His gaze slowly shifted toward the open window, where the sunlight filtered through the blinds in broken strips.
"Ah," he said, voice calm but edged with something that almost sounded like amusement. "So, they're at it again, huh?"
Ryan blinked, still catching his breath from running into the classroom. Sweat clung to his collar as his pulse was still beating like a hammer in his chest.
'What... what does he even mean by that?'
"Arthur." Ryan muttered under his breath, voice uncertain. "Can I please know what you mean by that?" He looked at Arthur while he asked that, trying not to meet his eyes.
Arthur didn't look at him, eyes slipped closed and his arms crossed over his chest as his posture was unreadable.
"Focus on your training for competition." he said simply. "Inter-school's soon, don't meddle in these types of businesses."
He slowly leaned down as he rested his head on his folded arms, shutting the conversation down fully.
Ryan's lips parted as if he was trying to say something else, but no words came out of his mouth. He sighed as he sank back in his seat. 'Why is he still so mysterious, man...'
[DING!]
[The System agrees with Arthur. For now, focus on your strength and preparation for the inter-school tournament, Host.]
'Yeah yeah, I know.'
The rest of the day dragged on like molasses. Teachers droned through lessons that blurred together and Ryan's mind kept drifting back to that smirk which Arthur had given when he mentioned "they."
Whoever "they" were, they weren't normal students and judging by Arthur's tone, they weren't harmless either.
Still... for now training came first to him.
Day 1: The Grind Begins
The gym's air was thick with dust and the faint scent of the metal weights. Arthur stood tall by the wall, arms crossed as usual, eyes cold and focused.
"Warm-up, two kilometers run. I don't want any sort of excuses."
Ryan groaned as he rolled his shoulders back. "Two kilometers just to warm up?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Want me to double it?"
"No... two's good, hehe." Ryan let out a nervous chuckle as he hopped onto the treadmill and pressed the start button.
By the time he hit the mark of 1.5 kilometers, his shirt was completely soaked as his lungs burned like he'd swallowed fire. But, Arthur wasn't impressed at all.
"Keep your pace steady, don't slow down. If you do then you have to start over." Arthur said, no mercy in his voice.
"Wh—What?" Ryan let out a loud groan.
Arthur didn't repeat himself.
Ryan clenched his teeth and kept going, his legs trembling by the time the timer hit the mark of zero. When he finally stepped off of the treadmill, his vision was spinning.
"Now," Arthur said, tossing him the pair of gloves. "Bag work. I want one hundred jabs, one hundred crosses. Try to focus on your form, not power."
Ryan's fists thudded into the bag, one after another. By the sixtieth jab, his arms were screaming. By the mark of ninety, his shoulders were gone. But Arthur's voice stayed sharp, didn't show any type of mercy towards Ryan.
"Straighten your wrist, you bend that again, you'll break your knuckles. Try to stay focused, don't lose your senses."
"Easy said than done..." Ryan muttered under his breath.
Arthur's voice came out loud. "You said something?"
Ryan said, fear in his voice. "N—No... I didn't."
Day 3: Pressure
The next few days blurred into a storm of sweat, pain and Arthur's cold commands.
"Footwork, Ryan. Always try to stay light."
"Breathe through the punches, not after."
"Stop flinching. No one respects the one who flinches."
Ryan leaned in to shift his weight a bit faster, his movements were less sloppy with each session. His hands became steadier as his punches became clearer.
But Arthur didn't praise, not once.
At the end of every session, Ryan collapsed onto the mat, drenched in sweat and gasping like he'd been dragged through a marathon.
Arthur would just hand him a bottle of water and simply say. "Again tomorrow, no skipping."
Day 7: The Wall
It was raining outside, hard. The gym windows trembled because of the strong gusts of wind and constant downpour of water.
Ryan's fists hit the heavy bag over and over again, the wet sound of the leather and sweat echoing through the empty gym hall. His arms were dead weight now, every hit sent pain shooting up to his shoulders.
Arthur stood in front of him, holding the pads this time.
"Jab. Cross. Hook. Slip."
Ryan followed the rhythm guided by Arthur, clumsy but determined.
"Again, don't try to stop."
"Jab. Cross. Hook. Slip."
Arthur stepped in closer towards Ryan which forced Ryan to adapt to it. "Faster."
Ryan's breath was harsh and rigid now. "Haahh... Haah."
"Focus," Arthur said, voice steady.
The punches came a bit faster, sweat sprayed with every movement. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he caught each strike on the pads.
"Better," Arthur said quietly.
It was the first time he'd said that word. Ryan almost dropped his guard down out of pure shock.
Arthur smirked faintly. "Don't let it get to your head."
Day 10: Collapse
Ryan couldn't remember when his body stopped feeling sore, the pain had turned into something constant, a dull ache that started to live inside of his muscles now.
Arthur wasn't going easy either.
"Shadowboxing for fifteen minutes, now. No breaks until then."
"I... Can't feel... my legs." Ryan let out his voice, gasping in between the words.
"Then start talking and move your arms or I will not let you rest." Arthur said, no sympathy.
By the end, Ryan was flat on his back laying, chest rising and falling like he'd just drowned and been revived.
Arthur tossed him the towel. "You're improving."
Ryan blinked in confusion as he said. "That... that was a fucking compliment, right?"
Arthur didn't answer, but the ghost of a grin on his face said enough.
Day 14: Reflection
Two weeks, fourteen days non-stop hell of a training which he survived.
Ryan stood in front of the mirror, hands resting on the edge of the sink. The dim bathroom light flickered slightly, reflecting the person staring back at him.
The difference wasn't so dramatic, but it was real—visible change.
The puffiness around his face had gone down a bit, his shoulders looked broader, more defined because of the fat which he burned a bit down. His stomach wasn't flat, but it wasn't too round like before either.
His arms—tired, scarred, bruised—looked like they actually belonged to a fighter now.
He exhaled slowly as he watched his breath fog the mirror.
"I'm slowly getting there... step by step."
The system echo chimed in his head.
[DING!]
[Progress Notice: Weight – 77 kg]
[Strength: C+]
[Endurance: C–]
[Agility – C]
[Boxing Jab – Rank D+]
[Boxing Cross – Rank D+]
[Boxing Hook – D]
[Boxing Slip – D–]
Ryan let out a weak chuckle. "Heh... not bad for a guy who used to cry in the mirror a month ago, huh?"