Lying down on the bench, Sigmarus took a deep breath and curled his fingers around the bench press bar which now had two forty-five pound weights added to it. The Red Street Ogre towered over him with his hands hovering beneath the bar. Shortly after lifting the bar from its posts, Sigmarus stopped upon hearing the voice of his spotter.
“Are you sure you don’t want to add more weight?”
“Yeah. Just testing my limits right now.”
Understanding flashing through his eyes, the big guy nodded.
Lowering the bar to his chest, Sigmarus quickly noticed that he could easily increase the weight again, but still finished a few repetitions before resting the bar on the bar catchers. Inwardly, he couldn’t help feeling elated that he could already bench this much since it overshadowed his previous record of only ninety pounds. Showing his excitement over this much weight in front of a guy like the Red Street Ogre who was spotting for him would just embarrass him, though, so he didn’t show any expression.
“Another fifty pounds should be about right,” Sigmarus said, sitting up.
The Red Street Ogre observed him with a curious expression for a moment before helping him grab the additional weights. While picking one up, he asked, “You’re a foundation melder, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You lift somewhere else outside of work?”
“Just simple exercises.”
“Not bad.”
Moments later, Sigmarus lifted the now one hundred and eighty-five pound bar. Like with his other attempts on other machines, his muscles trembled slightly. He slowly lowered it while puffing out a breath. Without realizing it, his lips curled upward little by little with each repetition. Although the feeling of triumph didn’t hit as hard as when he did squats earlier, he couldn’t help his heart from beating faster with excitement.
Shortly after he pushed the bar away from his chest for the fifth time, the Red Street Ogre suddenly asked, “You got any interest in joining Fallen Leaf?”
Taken off guard, Sigmarus sputtered and coughed mid-breath and nearly lost his grip on the bar. His spotter quickly grabbed the bar and rested it on the catchers. After all, he was well-aware of how strange such an offer would sound to a complete stranger.
Once the bar was out of his hands, Sigmarus bolted upright and stared at the dude with wide-eyes. He couldn’t help wondering if he had heard wrong.
“...You serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Didn’t expect that.”
“So. You interested? We make more money than you foundation melders.”
Sigmarus scratched his head and sighed. Since he didn’t want to join, nor did he want to straight up deny the offer in case of offending them, he calmly answered, “Let me think about it.”
The Red Street Ogre leaned on the bench press bar and offered, “If it’s about that early contract severance fee you guys have to pay, we can cover it.”
Sigmarus froze. Did this guy know how much a severance fee cost a foundation melder? That was a whopping thirty-thousand credits! Of course, he had saved far more than the necessary amount over the last eight years since he never had anything to spend money on besides rent, food, and monthly doses of iodine pills, but it was still a lot. However, such a thing didn’t interest him at all. That said, what did he even need more money for?
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“It’s not that much money to us,” The gang member mentioned in reply to Sigmarus’ astonished expression.
At this point, Sigmarus realized the offer was serious. However, he couldn’t understand why the guy would ask him to join. His current strength was decent, but there were plenty of muskrats capable of this much among the millions dwelling amidst these dark underground streets. He could only seriously decline now. Potentially getting roped into turf wars didn’t sound fun at all.
“Sorry, but I’ll pass.”
“Hmm… That’s too bad. You’d be able to use this place for free. If you ever change your mind, let me know. I’m here most mornings. Name’s Duke.”
Duke? Sounds familiar for some reason.
While thinking such, Sigmarus nodded and introduced himself honestly. Lying about his identity would only come back to bite him considering the resources of a major gang.
“Sigmarus.”
Surprisingly, Duke didn’t even blink at his unusual name. He immediately focused on spotting.
“You want to keep going?”
“Yeah. Last set, though.”
“Alright.”
After finishing the last set, Sigmarus darted for the showers. Allowing his muscles to immediately heal right in front of this guy didn’t seem like a good idea. Shortly after removing his meld-suit and undergarments, he noticed the now familiar sensation of his muscles starting the rapid healing process brought about by his tattoo. He barely turned on the spigot before his muscles began convulsing enough to prevent him from moving. For some reason, the healing process felt more intense than normal.
Is it because I did more strenuous activities?
Unfortunately, he could only think that far. Every muscle in his body suddenly spasmed, forcing him to his knees. It hurt. His enhanced perception only made it worse since he could literally feel the torn muscles fusing back together. A minute later, the agonizing healing process ended. A single screen appeared in front of his half-dazed eyes.
[Mortal-grade exercise regimen completed.]
[Strength +2, Endurance +2, Dexterity +1]
Sucking in a deep breath of air, Sigmarus refocused his gaze on the notification. A weary smile cracked his lips which required hydration. He quickly opened his inventory screen and retrieved his water thermos from within. Watching his hand disappear into the screen as though sinking into murky water still sent a shiver down his spine even after testing it multiple times throughout the last week.
He downed the entire half-gallon in seconds. Then, he tossed the thermos back into the inventory screen. It retook it’s position in the third slot. His fusion melder and a stack of nutrition bars occupied the first two while a spare set of undergarments filled the fourth. The inventory was a huge convenience which easily beat carrying his lunch cooler or toolbox everywhere.
After rinsing away the grime on his exhausted body, he wore the clean undergarments and donned his meld-suit once more. It hadn’t finished the cleaning process, but it was enough to not feel like he was swimming in a swamp of his own irradiated sweat.
Upon walking back into the main room of the gym, he saw Duke talking to the guy behind the counter. Uninterested in the contents of their conversation, he walked straight for the door. As it slid open, he decided to at least thank the guy for spotting for him.
Meeting Duke’s gaze, he waved and said, “See ya later. Thanks again for spotting me.”
Duke nodded lightly and replied, “No problem. See you next time.”
Both Duke and the guy behind the counter watched Sigmarus leave. Once he was out of sight, Duke crossed his arms over his chest and briefly sank into thought. The guy behind the counter, on the other hand, was still confused about the whole situation.
“Damn, boss. I was surprised when you agreed to spot for that guy, but then you even invited him to join us? Still can’t believe it.”
Duke glanced at the face of his left-hand-man with calm eyes and asked, “Did you notice what happened right before he came in here?”
“Ah. You mean the thing with that prostitute? I didn’t pay it much attention. Why?”
“That girl was underaged. He transferred credits to her twice, and I could see the pity in his eyes when he did it.”
Realization dawned in the dark-haired man’s eyes as he muttered, “Oh. That explains it.”
“He’d fit in here… at least in that aspect.”
“I wonder if he’s someone like you? Most muskrats don’t pay attention to those girls, after all.”
Duke shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not a big deal whether or not he joins. Now then...” Lowering his voice, Duke narrowed his eyes and declared, “Let’s talk about the fact that you’re doing sunshine on the job again, yeah?”
The guy behind the counter widened his eyes and hesitantly scratched his cheek. “Hehehe… You noticed that, eh?”