The distant crowing of a rooster echoed through the still morning air.
Richard groggily reached for his phone and squinted at the screen.
5:00 AM.
"Damn…" he muttered, rubbing his face.
Two hours of sleep.
His body felt heavy, sluggish. His limbs protested as he sat up. Is this what being a Marine feels like?
Dragging himself out of bed, he decided to move.
Descending the grand staircase, Richard was met with the sound of static and muffled voices.
The radio.
In the corner of the spacious living room, sitting near a wide-open window, Estello relaxed in a wooden chair, holding a steaming cup of coffee. The crisp morning air carried the scent of roasted beans and the distant sound of chirping birds.
The old man looked up.
"Oh, Richie! You're up early."
Richard sighed, stretching his arms. "Yeah, Grandpa. Way too early."
From the kitchen, Anita appeared, holding a cup.
"Oh, Chard, here. Have some coffee," she offered.
Richard shook his head. "Not yet, Ma. Maybe after I finish my workout."
Estello raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You work out?"
Richard nodded. "Yes, Gramps, I do."
The old man chuckled. "Perfect."
He turned toward the hallway. "Maria!"
The short middle-aged woman appeared almost instantly. "Yes, sir?"
"Show him to Edmundo's workout room."
Maria nodded. "Yes, sir. Follow me."
They walked down the first-floor corridor, passing old paintings and family portraits.
Eventually, Maria stopped at a sturdy wooden door and pushed it open.
Inside, a fully equipped gym greeted him.
Rustic yet well-maintained, the room contained:
Dumbbells and barbells lined up neatly against the wall A squat rack and a bench press in the center A treadmill, a pull-up bar, and various resistance machines scattered around A large mirror, slightly aged, covering the entire left wall
Richard whistled, impressed.
Maria stepped aside.
Behind them, Estello appeared, sipping his coffee.
"This used to be Edmundo's when he was your age," the old man said, gazing at the equipment. "Now, it's yours. No one uses it anymore."
Richard turned to him. "Thank you, Grandpa."
Estello waved his hand dismissively. "No need, dear boy."
He took another sip and walked off, leaving Richard to his new battleground.
As Richard stepped further inside, a familiar blue panel materialized before him.
[Daily Quest: Training]
Push-ups: 0/100
Curl-ups: 0/100
Pull-ups: 0/100
3-kilometer run: 0/3
Rewards:+5 Stat Points
+1 Skill Point
+10,000 SP
Failure Penalty:-10,000 SP
Richard groaned, rubbing his temples.
"I really can't slack off, huh?"
His SP was already at zero. He couldn't afford another penalty.
Taking a deep breath, he cracked his knuckles.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's start with the treadmill."
He stepped onto the machine, setting it to a light jog.
At first, it was easy. His legs moved naturally, his breathing steady.
Five minutes in…
A layer of sweat formed on his brow.
Ten minutes in…
His breathing became slightly labored.
Fifteen minutes in…
His calves burned, and his chest tightened.
"Shit," he muttered, glancing at the quest progress.
3-Kilometer Run: 0.8 / 3
Not even halfway.
His body wasn't used to this level of exertion. He had worked out before, but not under a system that actively demanded progress.
Twenty minutes in…
His legs wobbled. His lungs screamed for air.
3-Kilometer Run: 1.5 / 3
He clenched his teeth. "Come on… just a bit more."
The treadmill felt steeper. Every step heavier.
His body protested, demanding he stop.
"Damn it… I can't fail this."
He gritted his teeth and pushed forward.
Thirty minutes later…
With a final gasp, he slammed the treadmill's stop button.
He bent over, panting heavily, sweat dripping onto the floor.
3-Kilometer Run: 3 / 3 ✅
"F…Finally," he huffed.
His shirt clung to his skin. His muscles screamed.
But there was no time to rest.
He glanced at the rest of the quest requirements.
Push-ups: 0/100
Curl-ups: 0/100
Pull-ups: 0/100
"This is hell…"
He dropped to the floor.
"Alright… let's get this over with."
And so, the struggle continued.
"Alright," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "What's next?"
Push-ups: 0/100
Richard rolled over onto his stomach and planted his palms firmly on the ground.
First rep.
He lowered himself and pushed back up.
Second rep.
Easy.
Fifteenth rep.
A little tiring.
Fortieth rep.
His arms began to burn.
Sixtieth rep.
"Shit…" he exhaled, shaking his arms. His chest tightened, and his triceps screamed.
Seventieth rep.
Each push-up felt like lifting a mountain.
[Push-ups: 70/100]
"Come on... just thirty more."
Eighty…
Eighty-five…
He collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. His muscles felt numb, trembling.
[Push-ups: 85/100]
"Damn it…" he muttered, rolling onto his back. His arms were screaming in agony.
He knew he had to finish.
After a minute of rest, he forced himself up.
With gritted teeth, he pushed out the last 15 reps.
[Push-ups: 100/100 ✅]
"Done…" he muttered, panting hard.
But there was no time to celebrate.
Curl-ups: 0/100
He sat up, locking his feet under the bench press stand.
"Let's get this over with…"
Richard clasped his hands behind his head and began the first curl-up.
Ten… Twenty… Thirty…
His abs burned, but it was nothing compared to the push-ups.
Fifty… Seventy…
The strain intensified, but he kept going.
Finally, with one last rep, he collapsed back onto the mat.
[Curl-ups: 100/100 ✅]
"Okay…" he groaned. "One more…"
Pull-ups: 0/100
Richard stumbled toward the pull-up bar.
His arms still shook from the push-ups.
He gripped the bar and pulled himself up.
First rep.
Not bad.
Fifth rep.
His grip started slipping.
Tenth rep.
His biceps were on fire.
Fifteenth rep.
His entire upper body trembled.
"Shit…" he cursed.
By twenty reps, he dropped to the floor, arms completely dead.
He tried to shake them out, but they refused to move.
[Pull-ups: 20/100]
"Damn it…"
He took a deep breath and jumped back onto the bar.
Another five reps… then another…
By fifty reps, his fingers were numb.
At seventy-five reps, he could barely hold on.
And at ninety-five…
His body refused to move.
[Pull-ups: 95/100]
"Just five more…" he muttered.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself back up.
One rep.
Two.
Three.
His arms felt like lead.
Four.
And finally, with a loud groan…
Five.
[Pull-ups: 100/100 ✅]
Quest Complete
As soon as he dropped to the floor, the system pinged.
[Daily Quest: Training – Completed!]
Rewards Earned:+5 Stat Points+1 Skill Point+10,000 SP
A wave of relief washed over him.
"Finally…" he exhaled, sprawling across the floor.
His muscles ached like hell, but there was a strange satisfaction in the pain.
He had pushed himself.
And he won.
After a few minutes, he dragged himself up and stumbled out of the gym.
As he walked back to the kitchen, he could still hear Estello's radio.
The old man took one look at him and chuckled.
"Looks like you had a good workout."
Richard could barely nod.
Anita placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.
"Here, Chard. Drink this."
He gratefully accepted it and took a sip.
The rich, warm bitterness spread through his body, easing his exhaustion.
He sighed in relief.
"Best coffee ever."
Richard took another sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through his exhausted body. His muscles ached, but there was something comforting about listening to Estello's stories.
The old man laughed, shaking his head.
"You look just like Edmundo when he first started training," Estello said, his voice thick with nostalgia. "That boy was just as helpless during his first real workout."
Richard raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Estello nodded, a grin forming. "Oh, yeah. You wouldn't believe it, but when Edmundo was younger, he was just as fat as Jackie."
Richard chuckled. "Jack's not that fat."
"Yet." Estello smirked, taking another sip of his coffee. "But Edmundo—he was worse. The guy didn't care about fitness at all… until he saw Dallia for the first time. That woman changed his life."
Richard leaned forward, intrigued.
Estello continued, "When Edmundo met her, he was a completely different person. Carefree, lazy, and always goofing around. But the moment he laid eyes on her? Boom. That boy suddenly became the hardest-working man I'd ever seen. Training every day, eating healthy, lifting weights."
Richard chuckled internally.
The only difference between Edmundo and me? I have a system.And if I don't want to lose SP, that's motivation enough.
Estello sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile.
"You really remind me of him, you know?" he said. "Edmundo took after me the most. Had the same messed-up sense of humor, always playing pranks on everyone."
Richard smirked. "Pranks?"
"Oh, yeah," Estello grinned. "He was a menace. Always messing with his younger siblings, pulling stupid stunts, annoying the hell out of everyone. Especially Ernesto."
"Jack's dad?"
"Yep. Ernesto was too serious—almost like a damn robot. So, naturally, Edmundo had to mess with him. Every. Single. Day."
Richard chuckled, trying to imagine a young, rebellious Edmundo going up against a stoic, disciplined Ernesto. It must've been like watching a clown annoy a military officer.
"Jackie takes after his grandmother," Estello mused. "He might not have met her—she passed away when Marissa was born—but he's got her kind heart. Always wants to be included and hates to be left alone."
Estello stared into his coffee, his expression growing distant.
"There was never a day this house was lonely," he murmured. "Those bastards of mine used to prank me every time I came home from fishing."
Richard raised an eyebrow.
Estello snorted. "A bucket of detergent water. Every. Damn. Day. Right over my head, soon as I walked through the door. Why? Because my hands smelled like fish, and I kept messing with them."
Richard laughed. He could picture it perfectly.
Estello sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"You know… the only regret I have? I taught them how to be independent."
Richard tilted his head. "Isn't that a good thing?"
Estello exhaled. "Yeah. But… they left. They don't even call me for money anymore."
He let out a bitter chuckle.
"Hell, I would've loved it if they still asked me for cash. At least then, I'd have a reason to talk to them."
Richard didn't know what to say to that.
The air grew heavy for a moment.
But then Estello shook his head, forcing a grin.
"Ah, forget it. Enough about this old man's regrets. You, Richie boy—you keep up that training."
Richard smirked, taking another sip of coffee.
"Don't worry, Grandpa. I will."