Loma's fists pounded the heavy bag relentlessly. Each strike reverberated through the gym like thunder. He had already thrown 100 hooks, sweat dripping down his brow, chest heaving.
Xoza's voice cut through the clamor:
Xoza: "Now your technique is getting good. Keep it up—20 more."
Loma stumbled, gasping, legs trembling like jelly. Before he could catch his breath, Xoza lunged, a precise punch striking his core. The air left Loma in a violent whoosh.
Loma (thinking): How is he so strong… just how? That's unreal.
Coughing violently, the sound echoed through the gym. Xoza tossed him a bottle.
Xoza: "Here's water. Drink it, then back at it again."
Loma seized it, swallowing greedily before stepping up once more. Each strike became a roar.
81—BAAM! 82—BAAM!
Loma (gasping): "FINALLY! Now 90—BAAM!! 91—BAAMMM!!"
The gym seemed to vibrate with the sound of his punches. 99—BAAMMM! 100—BAAMMMM!
Exhausted, Loma collapsed to the ground, gasping.
Loma (breathless): "I did ittt… I did… ittt…"
Xoza's voice, calm but firm, cut through his haze:
Xoza: "Good. Now rest. Rest is as important as training."
Loma staggered from the training room and sank onto his bed, body trembling from fatigue.
Loma (thinking): My body… it feels weird. Am I growing stronger? Am I… getting as strong as Xoza? Yessss… that's it! I'm getting strongerrrr!!
Narration:
Loma's body was drained—every muscle screaming from nine hours of relentless training. His brain buzzed, energy depleted, limbs heavy as lead. Sleep claimed him almost instantly.
Outside, however, the streets of Ryukon hid a different kind of motion. Shadows slipped between alleys, silent and powerful. An unseen presence stirred—a force that could shatter the calm of the RDX hideout. Loma, Xoza, and the others remained oblivious. Something was coming. Something that could change everything.
Chapter 17 End