I was born as a new being.
An orc.
Having reincarnated to another world while keeping my memories, I became a typical monster with green skin and a pig-like appearance. At least the good news was that orcs in this world counted as part of humanity.
"Brother! Today let's learn about the courage of the red wolf!"
The problem was that all the other guys went around calling each other "Brother!" like typical warrior-class orcs, while I was the stereotypical potbellied demon race that violates female characters in adult games.
We're definitely the same orc race, but I'm pretty sure there's some kind of genetic-level issue here. Otherwise, there's no way I'd be the only chubby one in our tribe.
I'm not fat.
I'm husky.
Still, I had a chance left. There's a growth period of three years from when an orc is born until they become an adult. Right now I might be suffering from childhood obesity, but my belly fat will melt away and I'll become a desert warrior with a sick six-pack.
I had to become that kind of being to survive. Because from the moment I was born, I'd already gotten hit with one hell of a death flag.
"What's this, you ugly pig? Hey, you ruined my eyesight. Kill it."
"Lady Forneus! This child was born not even 10 minutes ago! Please have mercy!"
I got on the bad side of Forneus, the demon who ruled over the 30th dungeon of our legion, just for being born fat.
"Really? Orcs become adults in 3 years, right? Then let's see in 3 years. If you're still a piglet then, I'll kill you myself. Don't forget. I'll remember."
The dungeon boss tried to kill me for the sole reason of not looking good.
Fortunately, Forneus (female) was seriously shallow and cared a lot about aesthetics, and she favored our chieftain who had a body that could've made him a gym owner on Earth.
"Just know this, brother. Lady Forneus truly intends to kill you."
The chieftain risked his life to let me know Forneus's true intentions. As expected of the Demon King's army's craziest bitch, she was really just waiting for the day I became an adult.
I couldn't die unfairly again after already being murdered unfairly in the modern world. Especially when I couldn't help being born obese—it wasn't like I pigged out and got a potbelly, but getting killed for being ugly when I was born this way just wouldn't fly.
Should I run away?
If I could escape from the dungeon, I could survive for now. But this world was too dangerous for a young orc who wasn't even an adult yet to survive. Everywhere in the world was a battlefield where the Demon King's army and the human alliance fought, and our dungeon was located somewhere that wasn't exactly the front lines but could become a battlefield at any time.
And there's no way an escape would succeed anyway. That crazy bitch who was crossing off calendar dates one by one waiting to kill me would definitely come after me the moment I tried to run.
I had to survive.
They say the average orc lifespan is 40 years, so I wanted to live at least 100 years, adding the life I couldn't live in my previous life. Having died once, my will to live got stronger, and fortunately I had 3 years left.
Lose weight.
Even if I couldn't make it into the Demon King's special forces, I at least had to build a physique where Forneus would look at me and go "This is acceptable" and let it slide.
It seemed messed up to deal with this right after reincarnating in another world, but unfortunately this world wasn't one where knowledge and information were power—it was a fantasy world where magic power and combat ability were power.
I was an orc mob, and Forneus was a high-ranking demon at rank 30. A real named character who'd been granted the 30th dungeon by Demon King Solomon.
So to survive, I started exercising.
Hoping my belly fat would disappear.
***
Those 3 years happened to line up perfectly with "that exercise method."
There was one serious side effect, but if I could just survive, I could handle that level of side effect. Hell, if I could become the strongest in the world through that exercise method, I might even be able to step on Forneus and give her a proper lesson.
That exercise, first.
"Brother, what are you doing so early in the morning?"
"Ah, this is called 'push-ups'. It's an exercise that can improve the muscle strength of your entire chest."
My belly touched the ground first when I bent my arms, but after about a month, my belly stopped touching the ground.
That exercise, second.
"Brother, what are you doing lying down?"
"Ah, this is called 'sit-ups'. It's an exercise that trains your abs along with your overall endurance."
Just lifting my upper body a bit made my belly touch my thighs, turning the sit-ups into crunches, but after about a month, at least my back could lift off the ground.
That exercise, third and fourth.
"Brother. Why were you torturing yourself earlier in that horse-riding stance?"
"Ah, that, ungh, is called 'squats', whew. Without any equipment, kuhm! You can train your lower body."
Trying to explain while talking made me really short of breath. The guy running next to me and I had similar stamina conditions, but because of my jiggling belly fat every time I ran, I got winded way faster.
That exercise.
100 push-ups.
100 sit-ups.
100 squats.
10km run.
From the moment I decided to lose weight, I executed the bald teacher's training method every single day without fail. Fortunately, our tribe members knew about Forneus's business, and they didn't look at my eccentric medieval-fantasy-style modern fitness training with pity but with encouragement.
"Brother, whew, your will is stronger than any of us."
"Can I use that will to lose belly fat?"
"...Wouldn't it be possible eventually?"
"Then it's meaningless."
The orc running through the dungeon caves with me was from the same litter as me. Unlike other orcs, he showed considerable interest in my exercise method, and at some point started copying my workout and training alongside me.
"I definitely feel my stamina building up."
"I'll keep going, whew, until I see results."
No matter how hard or exhausting it got, I didn't skip training. On the rare days when the whole tribe got mobilized for interception, I had no choice but to do everything except running, but I trained without missing a single day.
And a year and a half later.
I got stronger.
I was still a young orc who'd only been born a year and a half ago, but my physique was on par with any adult orc, and I'd repelled enough adventurers to carve twenty red bloodstains on my axe, earning quite a reputation.
Of course, that was just saying I stood out among young orcs—if I fought Forneus, I wouldn't even be worth one punch. But I'd definitely gotten stronger, and the chieftain called me a promising prospect and pride of our tribe.
But.
"...Why is my belly fat still the same?"
My limbs had become indescribably solid and thick, but only my abdomen showed no training effects and actually got even rounder.
The training did have an effect. Visually I had a D-shaped body like I was pregnant, but if you pressed that belly with your finger, the muscle was solid enough to stop a knife from going in too deep.
But so what? Forget my limbs, my abdomen's shape wasn't pretty at all, and I was definitely destined to become schweinshaxe in this other world, cooked crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside by Forneus.
I only had a year and a half left.
If I could at least become stronger than Forneus, there'd be a possibility of survival, but I hadn't gotten that strong.
"Brother...! I'm infinitely grateful to you!"
Instead, my cradle-mate who'd been exercising with me got crazy strong. His hair went from flowing to balding in an M-shape, but that shiny green skin was true proof he'd become powerful.
"Thanks to the exercise method you taught me, I too was able to become this strong!"
He got strong. So strong I wondered if he'd reached the level of the world's strongest, and at least within our tribe, he'd gotten so strong that even the chieftain would yield to him.
"Listen well. You've both become too strong, but if you show off that power, there'll definitely be consequences. Until you become adults and can stand on your own, stay low and build your strength under my protection."
The chieftain, thankfully with his broad tolerance, acknowledged our strength. Especially even after fighting my buddy one-on-one and getting thoroughly beaten, the chieftain secretly thought of him as the next chieftain—no, something even greater—and waited for him to become an adult.
"Looking forward to the next year and a half, brother!"
"Yeah, me too."
I felt a bit jealous that the guy had become basically the world's strongest using the exercise method I taught him, but it's not like I developed it anyway, and thanks to my buddy doing it with me, I was able to train every day without skipping.
I felt both envy and gratitude toward him, but didn't really worry about it much. I had expectations that if my buddy became chieftain, he might shield me a bit from Forneus's clutches.
And another year and a half passed.
I got even stronger, and was finally facing the coming-of-age ceremony where I'd receive my "name."
Rok Grimfang.
That was the name bestowed upon me through ritual.
That's right.
"Grunk..."
I'd gotten stronger, and I'd become a muscle pig.