The next day, Arjun Sharma stepped into FitZone Gym, the air thick with the clang of weights, the rhythmic hum of treadmills, and the faint scent of sweat and rubber mats. Shalini Patel, his 24-year-old trainer, stood near the weight racks, her FitZone cap tilted, a relieved smile breaking through as she adjusted a dumbbell. "Sharma ji, you're a lifesaver," she said, her voice warm but tinged with lingering stress. "Vikram's membership got me over my ₹60,000 quota. I owe you big." Arjun, stretching his 185 cm frame, grinned, his muscles flexing under his gym tee. "You earned it, Shalini. Let's keep the momentum going." A system notification buzzed silently: "Task: Complete fitness check-in and support Shalini's professional efforts. Reward: Shalini's friendship, tenfold cashback (up to ₹2 crore) on purchases with her, capped at ₹20,00,000 spent."
As they prepped for training, the gym's energy shifted. Riya Gupta sauntered over, her tight gym wear catching the light, her sly smile calculated as she leaned toward Rani, the receptionist, stationed at the sleek front desk. A small crowd of clients lingered nearby, sipping protein shakes, their eyes drifting toward the scene. "Shalini's clients look fit, don't they, Rani?" Riya said, her voice loud enough to carry, dripping with malice. "Bet she's pushing dodgy supplements to get those results." The accusation hung in the air, drawing curious glances from a group of weightlifters. Shalini froze, her fingers tightening on a dumbbell, her reserved nature clashing with the boldness of the attack. Arjun's Spirit stat of 64 flared, fueling a sharp retort. "Riya, stop spreading lies," he snapped, stepping forward, his voice cutting through the gym's hum. "Shalini's training is clean—hard work, no shortcuts. You're just stirring trouble to boost your own numbers." His Strength of 72 lent authority, silencing the whispers, the weightlifters turning back to their sets.
Riya, undeterred, tossed her hair and beckoned Sneha Iyer, who joined with a practiced sway, her eyes scanning the gym floor. "Maybe it's not supplements," Sneha cooed, her tone sugary but venomous. "Botox? Surgery? How else does Shalini get such 'perfect' clients?" The jab, aimed at undermining Shalini's credibility, sparked murmurs from a nearby yoga group. Shalini's face flushed, her eyes betraying a flicker of fear—her principled approach, built on trust, couldn't withstand such rumors if they spread. Arjun's frustration boiled over, his voice rising to command the room. "Her clients succeed because she's good, not because of your nonsense," he said, his gaze locking onto Riya and Sneha. "You two are desperate, throwing shade to poach clients. It's pathetic." A burly client nearby nodded, muttering, "Shalini's legit," his support emboldening others to dismiss the gossip.
Rani, processing memberships at the desk, slammed a pen down, her glare fixed on Riya. "Shalini's the real deal, Riya. Everyone here knows it," she said, her voice firm, her loyalty to Shalini clear. Shalini, still clutching the dumbbell, murmured, "Thanks, Sharma ji," her eyes bright but cautious, a mix of gratitude and worry lingering. Arjun caught her glance, sensing the weight of her vulnerability in the cutthroat gym environment. "You've got this, Shalini," he said softly, his tone steady, reinforcing her resolve. The gym's energy settled, the whispers fading as clients returned to their routines, Riya and Sneha retreating with forced smiles, their scheme thwarted for now.
During their session—biceps, triceps, chest, and back—Shalini set 25 kg per arm, guiding Arjun's form with a light touch. "Elbows in, Sharma ji," she said, handing him an Electrolyte Drink (Props: Electrolyte Drink=7). Her stretches eased his tension, her professionalism shining through despite the earlier drama. To support her further, Arjun approached Rani at the desk, purchasing ₹2,000 worth of FitZone merchandise—a branded cap and water bottle—under Shalini's name to boost her sales record. "Just a small thank-you," he said, winking at Shalini. Her smile widened, her confidence bolstered. "You didn't have to, Sharma ji," she said, her voice warm. The system buzzed: "Task Complete: Shalini's friendship earned. Cashback: ₹20,000 credited.