Waking up in the same room as always, Ângelo stood up. This time, he wouldn't waste a single moment.
Heading to the bathroom, his morning routine was quite simple: wash his face, change into fresh clothes, and head to the kitchen.
There, he ate a loaf of bread with some peanut butter—sugar that would help keep his mind sharp.
Opening a chocolate bar, Ângelo munched on it as he walked around the house, checking to make sure there were no breaches.
"All clear." He thought gratefully, nodding to himself.
Approaching the front door, he pushed the couch back to open it. His priority was checking the water supply—he didn't know how much was left.
It was still early morning; the sun hadn't even risen yet. At least the monsters were quiet—the howls had stopped hours ago.
Looking around, his eyes landed on an old metal ladder. Rusty and beaten down, but still enough to get him to the roof.
Placing it against the wall, Ângelo climbed carefully, testing the structure before stepping on top. He moved with caution, stopping in front of the water container.
"One, two, three!—" He grunted, opening the lid without resistance.
What he saw made his lips curl into a smile—finally, a good surprise.
The supply was still plentiful; it had barely decreased. Even with careless use, it could last him a week.
"This and the water I found... should be enough to wait out the rain." Ângelo nodded, closing the lid again. "I can finally take a shower!…" That was what made him even more excited.
His last shower had been days ago, and even though, somehow, he didn't smell that bad, it still felt awful.
"I mean, it's a good use of water…" Ângelo kept smiling. When was the last time he had felt so happy about something as simple as bathing?
After finishing what he had to do, Ângelo climbed down from the roof, wasting no more time there. There wasn't much to see anyway—the surrounding buildings blocked his view.
Monsters could also smell or spot him if he lingered on the roof like a sitting duck.
Back inside, Ângelo shut the door again and went straight to the bathroom.
Stripping off his clothes, he quickly turned on the shower and stepped in without hesitation, the cold water hitting his skin like a lightning bolt.
It was freezing, but damn, it was invigorating.
He didn't take long to wash himself, turning the water off soon after. Yes, there was plenty stored, but that didn't mean he could waste it carelessly.
Ângelo dressed again and sat down on the couch.
Now what?
He didn't want to leave the house. After clearing the nearby buildings, the next ones were too far, and even though it was still early, he wasn't ready to commit to such a long trek.
"Too many risks… It's inevitable, but I want to avoid it for now." Ângelo reflected, resting his fingers on his chin.
He couldn't just lay around either. Time was his most precious resource, and wasting it felt wrong.
Lost in thought, an idea suddenly crossed his mind.
What about working out?
It sounded silly—thinking about exercise in the middle of the apocalypse—but the more he considered it, the more appealing it became.
Ângelo needed a way to keep his mind occupied, and his body would benefit as well. Even if it already felt stronger than before, training could only bring positive results.
Yes, his muscles were bigger after gaining his Tale, but they could still use some work...
"I was never a gym guy, but if I've got nothing else to do…" Ângelo muttered, making up his mind.
Getting stronger was essential after the world turned upside down; he couldn't remain the same. Before the apocalypse, exercise had been a chore, but he couldn't see it that way anymore.
There was no telling how strong he could become—and there was one more thing.
"I'm no expert and can't say much, but… maybe I'll be rewarded for putting in more effort?"
Not only would he gain the physical benefits of training, but maybe his Tale could reward him. After all, his title had come from almost dying—so maybe training could yield similar results.
"Or I'm just being delusional." Ângelo scoffed, laughing before getting back up.
Well, there was only one thing left to do.
Dropping to the ground, Ângelo started with some push-ups. He didn't know much about exercise, but it would have to do.
"I'll have to raid a library sometime… Books would be useful. Wait, ain't I getting too used to this?" Ângelo thought as he kept going—it actually felt really easy.
He pushed on for a long time, his newfound athletic ability really showing, until at last he collapsed, his face hitting the ground.
"103… Damn, that's actually scary…" he mumbled.
For someone who had never trained seriously to reach that number in a single attempt—what could a truly capable person do after Awakening?
"There are also classes, skills, titles… If someone got one that boosted their strength, just how powerful would they be?…" Ângelo really didn't want to follow that train of thought.
Shaking his head, he carried on.
Sit-ups, squats—there was much to do, and the day was long.
So, he trained.
…
Ângelo laid on his back, panting. His breathing was heavy, sweat ran down his forehead, and he'd even taken off his shirt to let his body cool.
His training routine was extreme for someone who had never done this before, but it felt strangely good. Ângelo hadn't thought working out could be this fulfilling.
It was far from over, but even the pain felt satisfying.
"Fuck… Should I have gone to the gym more often? This is kinda fun…" Ângelo said between breaths, staring at the ceiling.
Getting back up, he grabbed a water bottle and gulped it down. For some reason, "wasting" resources on building his body and skills felt like a worthwhile investment.
Tossing it aside, Ângelo picked up the axe, staring at the blade in silence.
The sun had been up for a while—he had trained for at least two hours. Now came the second part of his training.
Combat.
Yes, he had managed to fight monsters before, but in truth, he had just been damn lucky.
The first time, surprise had saved him—it couldn't even be called a fight. The second time, the terrain had favored him, making things easier.
But if he had been hurt in either encounter…
"Things could've gotten ugly."
Even if it wasn't just luck but also quick thinking, Ângelo didn't like relying on chance.
He had to learn how to fight. Counting only on his wits was stupid. And there was only one way to change that.
Training.
Ângelo had to get used to handling weapons, exhaustion, and pain. His effort was the only way forward.
Swinging both arms, the blade cut through the air, sending a shiver down his spine. It was much heavier than a knife, obviously, but there was something else.
He swung again, sweat dripping to the ground. Trying to grasp the feeling, he kept going.
Hard and inconsistent, swinging an axe demanded much more effort than thrusting a knife. His arms were already tired.
But Ângelo realized what it was.
It felt natural—almost like this was what his body was made to do. Swinging the axe felt incredible. He had never experienced anything like it.
Did that mean he was skilled?
No.
Ângelo was clumsy, put too much strength into each swing, and his grip was unsteady.
But even so, he genuinely enjoyed it.
"This is fun!—" When was the last time he had immersed himself in something like this?
Never.
Well, Ângelo never had notable hobbies or passions, so maybe this was it? Not the act of swinging an axe, but…
"Fighting… I kinda like it."
Resting the axe on his shoulder, Ângelo thought. Maybe he had always enjoyed this, but never had the chance to discover it. He had never fought anyone before, never tried martial arts or combat sports.
"Kinda shitty to discover myself in the goddamn apocalypse, not gonna lie…" Ângelo chuckled.
Still, this was good. If he could enjoy training—and even some fights—his mind wouldn't wither so easily.
"Even so… I can't take it lightly. I'm fighting for my life… It's not a game. No way I'm dying." Ângelo reflected carefully, nodding. "But… yeah, I'll enjoy it when I can."
Gripping the axe with both hands, he pressed on without resting. The training continued.
Of course, Ângelo also practiced with his other weapons. But still, he was enjoying himself.
Each swing brought him closer to evolving. Truly mastering the weapon would take time, but that didn't matter.
In the blink of an eye, another hour passed. Ângelo collapsed onto the ground again, gasping for breath. Training was fun, but now he couldn't even lift a finger.
A good start—it felt like he was on the right path. One day wouldn't suddenly make him a better fighter, but everything had to start somewhere.
"Hungry…" Ângelo clicked his tongue. It was early, but he wanted to eat. "If I keep going like this, I'll waste too many resources. Eh… I can find more. Getting stronger should be worth it, right?" In his mind, it made sense.
Training was an investment, not a waste. Even if it meant eating more and burning through supplies, the payoff would be greater.
Getting up once more, Ângelo walked into the kitchen. This would be his second meal. Opening a can of meat, he briefly considered eating it raw.
"The Tale did say my body can handle more stress than normal…" he pondered. For some reason, the smell was incredibly enticing—his mouth was even watering.
Without realizing, Ângelo devoured it in large bites, finishing the can quickly and drinking the juices at the bottom.
He exhaled deeply, feeling replenished.
Only after eating like an animal did he realize how barbaric it seemed, though it didn't really bother him that much.
"Probably has to do with me 'not being human,'" Ângelo thought carefully.
Well, in the end, it didn't matter. More training awaited.