3

Honu gasped, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he leaned heavily on the wooden stick he was using as a makeshift cane. His legs burned, his lungs screamed, and his entire body felt like it had been wrung out like a soaked rag. Sweat clung to his skin, drenching his robes as he struggled up the winding path to the temple. Every step felt like dragging a mountain behind him.

"HAAA!!!" he wheezed, jamming the stick into the ground for balance, only for it to sink slightly into the dirt, making him stumble forward.

A heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder, nearly knocking him flat.

"Brother!"

Honu coughed violently from the impact, his balance teetering. He whirled around with an irritated glare, ready to unleash a verbal assault—only to immediately reconsider his life choices.

The monk before him was a giant.

Towering, broad-shouldered, and rippling with muscles, the man's robes barely contained his sheer bulk. His shaved head gleamed under the sun, and his face radiated the kind of warmth one would expect from a benevolent elder brother. Unfortunately, Honu had no doubt that this so-called brother could snap him in half like a twig.

Honu's expression shifted so fast it could have won an award. His scowl vanished, replaced by an ingratiating smile. "Yow—hohoho. Merry Christmas, brother!"

The burly monk furrowed his brows. "What?"

Honu's grin widened as he scrambled for survival. "You look strong! Why not carry me to the temple? Strength like yours shouldn't go to waste!" His eyes gleamed with false admiration.

The monk's confused look melted into a hearty laugh. "Hahaha! You must endure, brother! Every muscle is earned!" He smoldered as if passing down the wisdom of his ancestors. Then, his expression shifted into something more serious. "And we were told not to be lenient with you."

"Wait, wha—?"

"Run, Honu! Gain muscles!"

Before Honu could react, the monk delivered a friendly—but absurdly powerful—pat on his back.

WHOOOOSSHHHHH

The sheer force sent Honu staggering forward, his robes drying instantly from the wind pressure alone. He stood there, trembling, fists clenched in barely restrained fury.

"No. I mean—hahahaha!" His laughter was unhinged, his hands gripping his bald head. "This is new. New is fun. Fun is good. Good life!" His voice wavered dangerously, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

"Honu."

A shiver ran down his spine.

"AHHHHHHHHH!!!" Honu shrieked, clutching his chest as he spun around, his heart slamming against his ribs.

The old monk—his master—stood beside him, smiling serenely.

"Did you just ask your brother to carry you?" The old man's voice was calm, almost amused.

Honu swallowed hard. "No...?" His eyes darted left and right as if searching for a witness to back him up. "You're just deaf due to old age… hehehehe." His nervous laughter did nothing to save him.

"Honu."

He flinched.

"Th—"

"Nope! Don't. Don't say it." Honu slapped his hands over his ears, shaking his head violently. "I refuse! No more, I beg you!"

The old monk's serene smile deepened, his eyes twinkling with joy. "Three months of training."

Honu's body seized up. His vision darkened. And with a final, pitiful whimper, he collapsed into unconsciousness.

---

"HOO!"

A powerful force slammed into his face the moment he stepped through the Shaolin gates. Night had already fallen by the time he arrived.

"HAA!!"

"Wh-what..." Honu staggered back, his eyes widening.

Before him, rows of monks stood in perfect formation. Their movements were synchronized, fluid, and powerful. Each strike, each block, each kick was executed with force, patience, and discipline. Their muscles rippled beneath their robes, their shaved heads gleaming like polished stone under the flickering torchlight.

The torches swayed violently, nearly snuffed out by the sheer intensity of the force they generated.

"HYAHH!!!" The monks shouted in unison, executing a series of rapid movements—high kicks, sweeping leg strikes, and flawless jabs—without breaking formation or colliding with their neighbors.

Honu watched, dumbstruck.

Then he looked down at himself—thin arms, frail build, not a single muscle to his name.

"But why...am I the only skinny one?!" he wailed, pounding his chest in despair.

His master sighed heavily beside him. "Honu..."

Before he could utter another word, Honu dragged a hand down his face. "Where's the cave?"

The old man turned and tilted his head upwards.

Dread pooled in Honu's stomach as he followed his gaze.

"Nope. Not fun. Not really." His voice cracked as he beheld the thousand steps stretching up into the darkness, leading to a peak so high it seemed to touch the sky.

He raised a finger at his master, who was clearly about to speak again. "Hep. Yes. I'll go up. Now." He shook out his limbs as if that would somehow prepare him for the nightmare ahead. "This is really testing me, huh?" he muttered before squaring his shoulders and glaring at the heavens. "But turns out I'm the type to face things head-on! Bring it on! You! Will!—"

"Four months." His master was already walking away, shaking his head.

"HMMM!!!" Honu bit his tongue to avoid screaming profanities. "I WILL NEVER LOSE!" he declared.

[ System locked. ]

[ Proceed to seclusion training to unlock. ]

"HA!" Honu grinned, taking a determined step forward—only to stagger immediately from exhaustion. "W-water. Please."

For the first time since arriving, he was shown mercy as a fellow disciple silently handed him a water pouch.

Honu clutched it like a lifeline. "Brother...I take back every insult. You're an angel."