Azel's smile widened. He averted his eyes from me and looked at the large man beside me.
"Demir,put Rüzgar through the physical evaluation. I'm curious about his stats," he said.
The man nodded and replied, "Understood, sir," then placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Follow me."
I stood up to follow him, and we left the office, heading to the gymnasium that occupied a large section of the factory. Passing by several pieces of sports equipment, he stopped in front of a treadmill.
"I'll be increasing the speed gradually,just so you know," he said. Despite his rugged appearance, his tone was polite toward me.
When I stepped onto the treadmill, he said, "I'll start now, if you're ready."
He pressed the start button but kept his hand on it.After I ran for a bit, he pressed it again. I ran a little more, and he pressed it once more. Drops of sweat were forming on my forehead, falling from the tip of my nose and dripping onto the treadmill. Even my lungs, enhanced by the blood, were struggling to keep up with this pace.
"Stop,stop!" I said to Demir.
Ignoring my plea, Demir pressed the acceleration button again and added:
"You can't be this helpless while our master's blood flows in your veins.Try to endure until the end."
Haa… haa… As I breathed, my lungs began to burn; each breath wasn't enough. There was no strength left in my legs. Just one more step… I tried to convince myself that I could do it. And one more step… another step… And one more step…
"You passed the first test," Demir said, pressing the treadmill's stop button and bringing it to a halt. I collapsed right where I stood. Haa… hah…
"Rest for two minutes.Then you'll lift weights," he said.
"What?"I asked.
When I insisted,"Let me rest a bit longer," Demir retorted, "No one gives you a few minutes to rest in a fight; so shut up and rest."
I caught my breath on the treadmill. After a short while, he said, "Come on, get up. Let's start the strength test." I moved from the treadmill to the weights. Although I had never regularly gone to a gym in my life, it had been clear since childhood: thanks to carrying baskets full of fruits and vegetables in the fields and other heavy labor, I was no stranger to lifting heavy things.
"So,what do I do?" I asked.
Demir said,"You'll perform two exercises, three times each. Each time you complete a set, I'll increase the weight."
Demir pointed to the barbell, crossed his arms, and looked me straight in the eye.
"First,the deadlift. Keep your back straight when lifting the bar from the ground, knees slightly bent. Power comes from your legs and hips. Grip it tightly and control your breathing. You'll start with 50 kilos; after you lift it, I'll increase the weight," he said.
I gripped the bar and lifted the 50 kilos. My muscles were awakening; the bar almost seemed to rise on its own. My palms were slick with sweat, my shoulders trembling slightly.
"Good,now 90 kilos," he said. I caught my breath and gripped it again. As the bar grew heavier, the strain shifted to my leg muscles and core; with each lift, my heart beat rapidly, and my lungs burned.
"Final attempt, 120 kilos," Demir said, his eyes still intently fixed on me. Sweat trickled down my forehead; my palms were slipping on the bar. My muscles were on fire, my breath was short, but my hips and back provided the foundation for my strength. I lifted the bar; it felt as if my body was screaming in protest.
"Good,"Demir said, "It's not just about lifting it; what matters is lifting it without breaking your form."
Next, we moved on to the overhead press. He positioned the bar in front of my chest.
"Now you'll press this over your head.Lock out your arms, keep your core tight. Push slowly but with power. First, you'll press 40 kilos, then 60, and on the final attempt, 80 kilos. Don't break your form; don't arch your back," he instructed.
On the first attempt, the 40 kilos went overhead easily. I could still feel my muscles trembling, but my breathing had started to quicken. The second attempt with 60 kilos was tougher; my shoulders burned, and I felt the support from my legs and core. On the final attempt, the 80 kilos were a struggle, but I managed to press them. Sweat droplets streamed down my forehead; my lungs were on fire.
Demir nodded with a brief smile.
"Your strength is good;you didn't lose your balance. But remember, knowing your limits is just as important as pushing them," he said.
My blood pulsed rapidly through my veins, setting every muscle ablaze. Each breath felt like inhaling fire; my heart hammered against my ribs as if trying to escape, and my body reacted instinctively to the muscular strain. The satisfaction was evident on Demir's face; in his eyes, his master's sacred blood had not been wasted.
After letting me rest a bit, Demir said, "You'll test your punching power; you'll hit the punching machine three times." I nodded and said, "Okay," but a sense of dread lingered inside me. What if I accidentally punched the machine wrong like I did two years ago… Back then, I was lucky and only bruised my hand. What if I made the same mistake now and got a boxer's fracture…
Stop thinking stupid thoughts,I told myself. Azel would heal you again like he did that day; now hit with all your might so you don't end up a disposable pawn in Azel's eyes!
After a short break, we moved to the punching machine. Demir swung his arms and said, "This machine maxes out at 1000. I'll go first, then you get three attempts. If your highest punch is close to my single punch, you'll pass this too. Understood?"
I nodded in agreement;I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing the machine, and bit my lip. My hands were trembling, my eyebrows furrowed, and beads of sweat had gathered on my forehead.
When Demir felt sufficiently warmed up, he pulled his arm back and threw a punch; I thought the machine might topple over. The score rapidly climbed—100, 300, 700—and finally stopped at 950. An involuntary "Whoa!" escaped my lips. My eyes widened, my eyebrows shot up; I looked at Demir with an astonished expression. Demir was pleased with his score; he gave my back a firm slap and said, "Alright, let's see what you've got."
I rotated my wrists to warm up my hands and swung my arms. I had a target of 950 points to match. I bent my knees slightly, pulled my shoulders back, took a deep breath, and focused my gaze. I threw my first punch; the thing I feared didn't happen. The score quickly rose to 720. I pressed my lips together, brow furrowed; my eyes tracked the machine with determination.
For the second punch, I gathered even more strength, planted my feet more firmly, and twisted my torso; the score jumped to 810. Before the final punch, I took a deep breath, narrowed my eyes in focus; my chin lifted slightly, muscles tensed. With my most powerful strike, the score shot up—surpassing my first two attempts and settling at 905. A smile touched my lips, my eyebrows lifted slightly, and my eyes shone.
"Hahahaa, a solid punch! You passed this test too," Demir said.
Hahaha, it wasn't so hard; thank goodness what I feared didn't happen.Then we headed back to Azel's office.
When I entered the office, Azel had a few files open on his desk and was reading them. As Demir opened the door, he lifted his head from the files and looked at us both.
"Rüzgar,were you able to pass the tests?" he asked.
Demir straightened his posture. "I put him through three tests: endurance, strength, and striking power. He passed all three, sir," he replied.
Azel turned his piercing, captivating gaze toward me, and with a smile, added:
"Congratulations.If you wish, I can give you a ride home," he said.
I was utterly exhausted; I simply replied, "Sure."
Azel gathered the files on his desk, opened the ornately carved drawer, placed the files inside, and closed it. Then we left the factory. With some trepidation, I got on the motorcycle again; I knew saying "Drive slowly" would be pointless with this man, so I stayed silent.
Azel started his motorcycle; the engine roared to life. Normally, he would be going full throttle by now, but by Azel's standards, he was driving slowly. I was happy about it, of course; at least I wasn't forced to cling to him like a koala.
While cruising at a moderate speed, Azel said, "It was a taxing day, wasn't it? And I imagine Demir pushed you hard."
"I think he's a good man; he's just trying to do right by his master," I replied.
Azel said, "Precisely; that's why I value him so much. He is a valuable subordinate to me."
"Hmm, I see. I have a question," I said. "You didn't acquire this power later, did you? You were born with these abilities?"
Azel didn't answer my question for a moment. "I guess he doesn't talk about these things," I thought.
"You are correct; this power comes from my lineage. I was born with these abilities," he said.
I hadn't expected him to answer.
"I understand,"I said.
Azel offered, "If you'd like, I can drop you off right in front of your house."
"No need to trouble yourself, I'll walk," I said. Truthfully, I still didn't fully trust him; him knowing my exact address felt dangerous.
He dropped me off next to an empty lot, and we went our separate ways.
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