Night settled over the small apartment.
In the dim light of the room, Noah Vale held himself above the floor, arms trembling as he pushed through another push-up.
"Thirty… thirty-one… thirty-two…"
His breathing grew heavier as the numbers climbed.
"Fifty… fifty-one…"
By the time he passed fifty, the pace slowed noticeably. A dull burn spread through his arms and chest, the familiar ache of overworked muscles.
Noah ignored it.
He focused on maintaining proper form, forcing his body to move with steady, mechanical precision.
"Sixty… sixty-one…"
At sixty-two, his arms finally gave out.
Noah collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard as his chest rose and fell. After a moment, he opened the blue interface floating in front of him.
Compared to earlier that day, the analysis section had grown considerably.
Now it listed several different forms of exercise.
Running.
Push-ups.
Squats.
Bodyweight conditioning.
Each entry summarized the effort he had put in and estimated how similar training sessions would gradually raise his physical limits.
Noah scrolled through the list with a faint smile.
Every line represented something he had done that day.
Every entry meant progress.
"Not bad for day one."
Based on the system's estimates, combining all the exercises he'd done could push his endurance slightly higher within about a week.
Still… it felt slow.
Noah leaned back against the wall and thought it over.
"Guess the only answer is consistency."
If he trained seriously for a year, the results should become obvious.
Tomorrow he'd sign up for a gym and start a more structured routine.
School could wait.
Worst-case scenario, he repeated the year.
That seemed like a fair trade if it meant building real power.
Noah forced himself to sit up again.
Despite the exhaustion, he began massaging the muscles in his arms and shoulders.
Experience told him that skipping recovery work was a terrible idea. If he ignored it, tomorrow's soreness would be brutal.
After a quick self-massage and a shower, he glanced at the clock.
10:00 p.m.
Noah collapsed onto his bed.
His body was completely drained. The moment he closed his eyes, sleep began pulling him under.
Then his eyes snapped open.
A thought had just occurred to him.
"…Wait a second."
If physical strain improved his body—
What about mental strain?
Noah stared at the ceiling.
"So sleep deprivation is basically mental training… sure."
He had no idea whether it would work.
But the system tracked effort.
If staying awake pushed his mind the way training pushed his muscles, it might count.
There was only one way to find out.
Noah forced himself out of bed.
Even though every part of his body begged for rest, he stayed awake.
He moved around the apartment, stretched, walked in circles—anything to keep from collapsing.
Hours passed.
Midnight.
Two a.m.
Three.
By four in the morning, Noah's consciousness finally gave out.
He dropped to the floor and blacked out instantly.
Right before he lost awareness, a new entry appeared in the system's analysis.
Training Analysis
You maintained continuous activity for over twenty-one hours.
The prolonged effort placed heavy strain on both body and mind.
Your mental resilience increased noticeably under sustained fatigue.
Repeated experiences of extreme endurance are expected to further strengthen cognitive stability and willpower.
Noah didn't see the rest.
He was already asleep.
When he finally woke up, sunlight streamed through the window.
Noah groaned and rubbed his temples.
His head felt heavy, like his brain had been wrapped in cotton.
He checked the time.
Noon.
"…That actually worked?"
Still half-dazed, he opened the blue interface again.
The updated analysis stunned him.
The gains from pushing his mind past exhaustion were far greater than he expected.
"So pulling an all-nighter actually helps."
Noah laughed quietly.
"People joke about sleep deprivation being training… but apparently it really does make you tougher."
He considered the result for a moment.
"Twenty-one hours before I crashed, huh?"
Then he shrugged.
"Let's try twenty-five today."
First things first—food.
Noah headed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
Training required fuel.
Inside were groceries he had bought the previous afternoon: protein-rich meals, fresh vegetables, fruit, dairy, and prepared foods.
Everything was selected with two priorities in mind.
Nutrition.
And taste.
Noah wasn't interested in suffering unnecessarily.
Training was supposed to improve his life—not turn it into punishment.
If he could eat well while maintaining proper nutrition, there was no reason to force himself through miserable meals.
Still, a stray thought crossed his mind.
Would harsher conditions build stronger willpower?
Hunger.
Discomfort.
Bad food.
Maybe those counted as mental training too.
Noah stared down at the delicious meal in his hand.
Then he took a huge bite.
"Nope."
There were limits.
If getting stronger required eating garbage, he'd happily stay weaker.
A few minutes later, Noah finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen.
Next step: the gym.
He had already taken a leave of absence from school for the next few days.
With the weekend approaching, that gave him three uninterrupted days to focus entirely on training.
Hopefully enough time to push his mental endurance to the next level.
Pulling out his phone, Noah searched for nearby gyms.
Within five kilometers, more than a dozen options appeared.
After reading reviews, one stood out.
Meinze Fitness
It was part of a well-known fitness chain that had been operating locally for nearly a decade.
Stable business.
Good reputation.
Low chance of suddenly shutting down.
Perfect.
Distance from his apartment?
About 1.8 kilometers.
Noah grinned.
"Another run, then."
He stepped outside and immediately broke into a sprint.
As he ran down the street, something felt different.
His muscles were still sore from yesterday's training.
But his stride felt lighter.
His movements smoother.
Despite running faster than yesterday, his breathing remained steady much longer.
Only after four hundred meters did his rhythm begin to break.
The improvement was obvious.
Even though the numbers on the panel hadn't changed dramatically yet, Noah could clearly feel the difference.
His body was adapting.
Getting stronger.
When he finally arrived outside the gym, he checked the system again.
The analysis compared today's run with yesterday's.
The same effort now produced better efficiency.
Better results.
Noah stared at the numbers, satisfaction spreading across his face.
Yesterday, pushing himself to the limit had produced modest gains.
Today, the same distance felt easier—and the system predicted faster progress.
That steady, measurable growth was strangely addictive.
For the first time, Noah truly understood something.
Getting stronger—little by little—was exhilarating.