Rachel rarely, if ever, regretted her actions. However, she was currently regretting using her heavenly chalk as a projectile. Since she had thrown it, there was no way to retrieve it, not while being stuck in a barrier that she could only pop with the chalk. The barrier cut off her spiritual energy, isolating her from the outside world. No matter what she did, she couldn’t even put a crack in the barrier. Perhaps she’d have to go through a tribulation before obtaining the strength necessary to break free. Her eyes narrowed as she settled down, focusing on her cultivation. For some reason, after she got settled, fresh spiritual energy flowed through the barrier. The only way for that to happen was if the false immortal who imprisoned her allowed it. Rachel glanced at the woman sitting underneath the massive column of water. Just what was going on in her head?

***

Michael walked with his chest puffed out, his head held high. His perfectly sculpted muscles on his arm rippled as he grabbed the door handle. With ease, he pulled open the heavy metal door. He stepped through, entering the greatest gym in the history of the federation of Bread. Countless Bread champions had been born from this gym, and today, he would walk through its sacred halls. A beautiful woman greeted him at the front desk, a realistic-looking smile plastered on her face. “Welcome,” the woman said. “Is this your first time here? If so, I can walk you through the basics.”

Michael nodded and went through the formalities before joining the gym. The conversation was very pleasant with some flirting here and there. As someone who got bonuses for signing athletes to the gym, the woman was very enthusiastic about her job; all of the people who were referred to the gym were rich or backed by rich people. As she thought about the money she made from the extra perks she was able to hook her clients on, her eye twitched. Not every interaction was pleasant. Recently, an old man had joined the gym, and he was ruder than a baboon’s backside. Speaking of which, he was in the gym right now. In fact, he was always at the gym.

Michael flashed a smile at the woman before heading towards the changing rooms, his bag slung over his shoulder, its straps held by one hand. He stopped in front of the changing room doors. What a glorious place. How many previous champions had walked the same steps as him? How many champions walked through this door, their lives changing forever? Michael took in a deep breath and pushed the door open. A wrinkled scrotum was the first thing he saw, immortalized in his memory forever. The naked old man, Grandpa Vremya, was standing in front of an automatic air dryer. From the water dripping off of his body, it was quite clear he had just gotten out of the shower. However, why was he airdrying his balls in a public space!?

Michael whipped his head to the side, refusing to let Grandpa Vremya’s image blaspheme the sacred gym even further. Michael pointedly ignored the old man, walking in a wide arc around him to get to the other side of the locker room and behind a row of lockers. Once that was done, Michael sat down and shook the absurdity of the moment out of his mind. He had been to public locker rooms before; he knew what to expect, but he didn’t think such an elite gym would suffer from the same affliction as public gyms! Michael frowned. Someone that old, he must’ve been someone who had once competed. Even though the old man had been in shape, it didn’t matter. With hair that gray and a beard that long, he must’ve been several centuries old. The Bread Games had a long history with many different categories; there was no way Michael could know each and every champion despite the respect he felt for them.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

After changing into his workout clothes, Michael glanced around the wall of lockers. Luckily, the old man was gone. A sigh escaped from his mouth as he straightened his back, walking out as if everything were normal. As a Bread athlete, he had a strict training regime to follow. His coach wasn’t here because it wasn’t officially time for Michael’s training session yet. He had woken up early to scout out the gym. He wanted to see what his predecessors saw, touch and smell the machines they used to sculpt their bodies. Michael exited the locker room, turned a corner, walked down a corridor, and arrived at the main training area. It was in front of him, behind a black metal door. The secrets to the previous Bread champions were about to be unveiled!

Michael pushed open the door and stepped through. A blinding white light assaulted him, and he raised his hand above his head, blocking out the light. After his eyes adjusted to the brightness within the room, Michael lowered his hand and stopped squinting. Bulging muscles greeted him, nearly filling his vision. He unconsciously swallowed. As someone who always aspired to be a Bread champion, he had spent more time in the gym than out of the gym. He had seen all kinds of body types. However, he had never seen a woman as perfect as the one in front of him. Her body seemed to be carved out of white jade, her muscles solid yet flexible at the same time. He flashed her a smile and raised his hand in greeting; however, before he was even done performing the arm motion, the woman had already walked away.

Michael stiffened, his head turning to follow the woman as she walked. His eyes bulged when he saw her approaching the same old man who had defiled his vision inside the locker room. His eyes bulged even wider when she saw him grab his hand, slipping hers into his. Like that, Michael met and lost the love of his life within three seconds. No, that wasn’t right. He was going to be a future Bread champion! How could he give up on the woman he fell in love with immediately after meeting her? What was so impressive about that old man? Was it his strength? His flexibility? Michael snorted; whatever the old man could do, he could do better, and he’d prove it. He followed the old man and the woman, keeping a distance while glancing at the different kinds of machinery lying around to not seem suspicious.

At last, the couple, no, the old man and woman came to a halt in front of an archaic machine. It was a simple barbell on a rack. The old man and the woman placed two small weights, only weighing forty-five pounds each, on either side of the barbell. The old man squatted and wiggled into place, resting the barbell against his shoulders. With a grunt, he stood up, barely managing to keep steady. Michael was baffled. The old man could barely do a squat. What was Michael thinking? Was he really going to compete against a geriatric champion, one who was simply exercising to stay fit, to convince a woman to fall for him? He shook his head. Perhaps the relationship between the two wasn’t the one he imagined. Now that he looked at them more closely, it seemed like a grandfather had brought his granddaughter to the gym instead.

While he was lost in thought, he noticed the two of them preparing to leave. However, they didn’t put their weights away. Having spent so much time in the gym, he understood how annoying it was to find a station that hadn’t been cleaned up. As such, he took it upon himself to remove the weights off the barbell for them.

“Wait, don’t touch that,” a beautiful voice said from behind Michael.

Before Michael could ask why, the weight slipped off of the bar, and suddenly, it became immensely heavy. It broke his fingers, slipped out of his hands, and landed on his foot, shattering all the bones within on impact. It all happened so quickly that his body didn’t have any time to register pain. “Huh?”

“It’s a good thing there’s doctors located in this facility,” Grandpa Vremya said. “That’s definitely something you’ll want to get looked at instead of walking it off.”

Michael shrieked when the pain washed over him. Then, his vision went orange, and he fainted.