The lollipop clicked faintly against his teeth as Han Joon-seong walked, the strawberry sweetness fading into a familiar, pleasant nothing. Ervin, drifting in his usual spot behind and above, let his attention wander across the city unfolding around them.
Although Ervin had no idea the city he currently resided was Wonsang, he knew it was some big city. That much had been clear from the start, but the neighborhood Han Joon-seong's feet were carrying him through now was something else entirely. The streets were wide and immaculately clean, the kind of clean that didn't happen by accident, the governor clearly taking good care of appearances aroudn these parts. The buildings rose on either side in sleek, modern lines, glass and pale stone, balconies with potted plants, storefronts with hand-painted signs and warm lighting. The people matched the scenery: well-dressed, unhurried, the kind of quiet confidence that comes from money. Even the air felt different here. Fresher, somehow.
Ervin took it in without any particular envy. If his math was accurate, he wasn't far from this life style.
Han Joon-seong walked with his free hand in his pocket, the lollipop stick poking out from the corner of his mouth. He passed a café with outdoor seating where a woman in a cream blazer laughed at something on her phone. He passed a flower shop that spilled color onto the sidewalk. He passed a man walking a dog so small and well-groomed it looked like a stuffed toy. The whole area hummed with a quiet, expensive calm.
Then a gym came into view.
It wasn't the kind of gym Ervin had ever set foot in back in his old life, a single floor of sweaty machines crammed into a strip mall. This was a building. Five, maybe six stories of dark glass and brushed steel, set back slightly from the street behind a small plaza with benches and neatly trimmed hedges. A stone pathway led from the sidewalk to a set of wide automatic doors. The upper floors had floor-to-ceiling windows, and through them Ervin could make out rows of equipment, the distant shapes of people moving with purpose. It looked less like a place to work out and more like the headquarters of some corporation.
Han Joon-seong stopped at the edge of the plaza. Ervin, through him, tilted his head up to read the sign mounted above the entrance.
ASCENT ATHLETIC CLUB
Han Joon-seong stood at the edge of the plaza, head tilted back slightly, eyes fixed on the sign mounted above the entrance. Backlit white letters against dark metal. He read the name once, then again, the lollipop stick still poking out from the corner of his mouth.
"Ascent Athletic Club, huh?" A short, dry scoff escaped through his nose. "That sure is a name."
He pulled the stick from his lips, tossed it into a nearby trash can with a casual flick, and slid his hands back into his pockets. The stone pathway stretched ahead of him, flanked by manicured hedges and empty benches. He started walking.
The automatic doors parted with a soft pneumatic hiss, and the interior opened up around him, a lobby that looked more like a high-end hotel than any gym Ervin had ever seen. Polished concrete floors, warm ambient lighting, a living wall of green plants covering one entire side of the space. The air smelled faintly of eucalyptus, clean sweat. To the left, a lounge area with sleek sofas and a juice bar. To the right, floor-to-ceiling glass revealed the first level of workout equipment, rows of machines and free weights arranged with almost architectural precision. And straight ahead, a long reception desk of pale wood, staffed by a single person.
The man behind the desk was built like a refrigerator. Broad shoulders, thick neck, arms that stretched the sleeves of his black polo shirt. His hair was cropped close to the scalp, and he had the kind of jaw that looked like it had been chiseled out of stone rather than bone. He glanced up as Han Joon-seong approached, and his eyes did a quick, automatic scan, face, frame, clothes, posture. The assessment took less than a second.
"Great," the man thought, his expression shifting by a barely perceptible degree. "Another one of these social-media pretty boys. Here to take mirror selfies and hog the cable machines."
He didn't say it. His face settled into a neutral, professional smile, the kind that had greeted a thousand new faces before this one. But something behind his eyes stayed flat.
"Morning," the man said, his voice a low but charismatic. "Help you?"
Han Joon-seong stopped in front of the desk, hands still in his pockets, posture relaxed. "Yeah. I'm looking to join. Wanted to see what options you have."
The man nodded, reaching beneath the counter for a tablet. "Sure. We've got a few membership tiers. Basic gives you access to the first three floors, machines, free weights, cardio. Premium adds the pool and the sauna on the fourth floor. Elite gets you all of that plus the rooftop track and priority booking for personal trainers. Prices go up accordingly."
He rattled it off like a script he'd recited a hundred times, but the welcoming smile never leaving his face, his eyes flicking up to Han Joon-seong's face as he spoke, waiting for the inevitable question about the cheapest option or the free trial day.
Han Joon-seong didn't ask about the price. He just nodded, his gaze drifting past the man's shoulder toward the glass wall and the equipment beyond. "Can I see the place first?"
The man paused, one thick finger hovering over the tablet screen. "You want a tour?"
"If it's not a problem."
The man studied him for a second longer, then set the tablet down and stepped out from behind the desk. Up close, he had a few inches on Han Joon-seong in height, and probably forty pounds in sheer mass. His name tag, previously hidden by the desk, read "Seok-ju".
"All right. Follow me."
Seok-ju led him through a set of glass doors and into the main gym floor. The space was vast and open, two stories of air stretching overhead with a mezzanine level circling the perimeter. Everything gleamed, the chrome of the barbells, the polished wood of the plyometric boxes, the spotless black rubber flooring. A handful of people were scattered throughout the space, all of them looking like they knew exactly what they were doing.... All except the ones just sitting on a machine scrolling through their phone.
"First floor's mostly machines and functional training," Seok-ju said, gesturing broadly. "We've got a full set of plate-loaded equipment, cable stations, and a dedicated stretching area over by the windows. Second floor up those stairs is free weights, dumbbells up to eighty kilos, Olympic platforms, squat racks. Third floor's cardio and group classes. You can see the pool from the elevator if you want."
Han Joon-seong walked slowly alongside him, taking it in. Ervin, from his third-person vantage, observed with quiet approval. This wasn't a gym for casuals. This was a place for serious work. Exactly what he needed.
Seok-ju watched him from the corner of his eye, waiting for the usual signs, the slight drop in confidence, the subtle hesitation of someone who'd bitten off more than they could chew. It didn't come. The pretty boy just kept walking, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, almost doll like?
"So what kind of training are you looking to do?" Seok-ju asked, a small edge of testing in his voice.
Han Joon-seong glanced at him, and the corner of his mouth lifted, not quite a smile. "A bit of everything. Strength. Speed. Endurance. I've got a lot of ground to cover."
Seok-ju raised an eyebrow. "Ambitious."
"I'm an ambitious guy."
They finished the circuit on the first floor and looped back toward the reception desk. Seok-ju picked up the tablet again and pulled up the membership screen.
"So. You want to sign up?"
Han Joon-seong nodded. "What are the prices?"
Seok-ju's smile didn't waver. 'Here it comes.' The pretty boy was going to ask for the cheapest plan, maybe try to negotiate a free week.
"Right," Seok-ju said, pulling up the pricing screen on the tablet. "So, like I mentioned, we have three tiers. Basic- that's access to the first three floors, machines, free weights, and cardio areas. That runs 800,000 won a month. Premium gets you all of that plus the pool and sauna on the fourth floor, at 1.3 million won a month. And Elite is the full package, everything in Premium plus the rooftop track, priority booking for our personal trainers, and access to our recovery lounge. That one's 2.5 million won a month."
He paused, letting the numbers land. "Now, if you commit to a four-month package upfront, we knock off ten percent from the monthly rate. And if you go for a full year, it's fifteen percent off per month."
Han Joon-seong tilted his head slightly, the math running behind his eyes — Ervin's math, really, cold and quick. A year of Elite at fifteen percent off. Twelve months, 2.5 million each, minus the discount. The number surfaced almost instantly.
"I'll take the Elite tier," Han Joon-seong said. "One year. Upfront."
Seok-ju blinked. The tablet almost slipped in his grip. "The… the full year? Elite?"
"Yeah. What's the total?"
Seok-ju cleared his throat, recovering, and tapped quickly at the screen. "Let me pull that up for you." His fingers moved, and a moment later he turned the tablet around to show the final number. "For a full year of Elite with the fifteen percent discount, you're looking at a one-time payment of 21,250,000 won."
Han Joon-seong pulled out his phone, opened the banking app, and glanced at the balance. Ervin, from his floating perch, noted the number with quiet satisfaction. The regeneration had been accelerating all morning. What had been a modest sum hours ago now sat at just over twenty-two million won. Enough.
A small smile crossed Han Joon-seong's face. "Alright. Let's do it."
He read out the account details, and Seok-ju, still wearing a faint expression of disbelief, processed the transfer. The tablet pinged. Payment confirmed. Seok-ju stared at the screen for a second longer than necessary, then looked back up at the young man in the cheap clothes who had just dropped over twenty-one million won without flinching.
"Everything okay?" Han Joon-seong asked.
"Yeah. Yes. All good." Seok-ju set the tablet down. "Welcome to Ascent, Mr. Han. You're all set."
"Thanks. So… can I use the machines now?"
Seok-ju straightened up. "Of course. Is there anything specific you want to start with?"
Han Joon-seong considered it. "Strength training. Weightlifting. Do you have personal trainers here, or do I need to find one on my own?"
"I actually do personal training myself," Seok-ju said, and this time the smile was a little more genuine. "I can take you through it, if you want."
"Works for me."
Seok-ju gestured toward the gym floor. "Right this way."
They started walking, but Han Joon-seong glanced down at his own clothes — a plain cotton shirt and jeans, fine for walking around the city, hardly ideal for a workout. "I should mention, I won't push too hard today. I'm not really dressed for it." He tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt. "Friction from the wrong fabric can tear you up. I'll pick up some proper gear later."
Seok-ju nodded approvingly. "Smart. A lot of new guys come in here with the wrong clothes and end up with rashes in places they don't want to talk about. Take your time."he laughed
"I appreciate the advice."
They arrived at the free weights section on the second floor, a wide-open space lined with racks of dumbbells, barbells, and squat cages. The rubber flooring absorbed the sound of their footsteps. A few other members were scattered around, lifting quietly, their grunts low and controlled.
"Alright," Seok-ju said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's see what you can handle. We'll start light and work our way up."
He led Han Joon-seong to a bench and loaded a barbell with a modest amount of weight — something reasonable for a first-timer. Han Joon-seong lay back, gripped the bar, and pressed it up. The motion was smooth, almost effortless. Seok-ju frowned slightly and added more weight. Han Joon-seong pressed it again, no strain on his face, the bar rising and falling with mechanical precision.
They went up again. And again. Each time, the weight climbed, and each time, Han Joon-seong completed the rep without any visible struggle. Seok-ju's frown had deepened into something closer to fascination.
Finally, at a weight that would have been respectable for someone with a solid year of consistent training, Han Joon-seong's arms trembled slightly on the press. His jaw tightened. A low exhale escaped through his teeth.
"There it is," Han Joon-seong muttered. "I can feel the burn now."
He finished the rep and racked the bar. Seok-ju stood over him, arms crossed, staring.
"You ever done this before?" Seok-ju asked, his voice flat. "Lifting. At all."
Han Joon-seong sat up, shaking out his arms. "No, actually. First time in a gym."
Seok-ju didn't say anything for a moment. His face was carefully blank, but behind his eyes, 'No way. Who does this kid think i am? nobody walks in on their first day and presses that weight'.
He kept the thought to himself. "Alright," he said. "Let's keep going. Form looks decent, but watch your elbow flare on the descent. I'll spot you."
They trained for the next hour. Set after set, rep after rep, Han Joon-seong pushed the weight up under Seok-ju's watchful eye. Ervin, observing from his third-person view, tracked the body's strain as data. The muscle fiber engagement, heart rate, oxygen saturation. None of it touched him. He just kept giving commands.
A soft chime rang in his awareness.
[[System]
[Strength has gained experience (9/40)]]
Then, not long after:
[[System]
[You have Spent All your Vigor. Cooldown time; 20 minutes]]
Han Joon-seong's arms gave out on the final rep. He racked the bar with a heavy clang and sat up, chest heaving, arms trembling visibly at his sides. Sweat dripped from his hairline and traced the sharp lines of his jaw. The muscles in his forearms twitched with residual fatigue.
Seok-ju looked at him, really looked —and the skepticism that had been living behind his eyes softened into something else. Respect, maybe. Or the beginning of it.
"You did good work today, kid," Seok-ju said, his voice lower now. "Just don't push yourself too hard. You go past your limit, that's how you get hurt. And trust me, an injury sets you back a lot further than an extra rest day."
He reached out and took Han Joon-seong's arm, his thick fingers pressing into the trembling muscle with practiced precision. The massage was firm, deliberate, working the tension out of the bicep and forearm in slow, circular motions. Han Joon-seong let his arm go slack, the tension draining from his shoulder.
"Thank you, coach," Han Joon-seong said, his voice even despite the exhaustion. "I appreciate the help. I'll keep that in mind."
Seok-ju gave a short nod, still kneading the muscle. "Good. Now sit here for a minute. I'll grab you some water."