Episode 9 – The Gym of Gains and Chicken Dreams

Episode 9 – The Gym of Gains and Chicken Dreams

It was a warm wind that morning, and the sun was peeping over the congested skyline as though he were too timid to rise. Kim Do-hyun (김도현) stepped off the bus with a quiet sigh, slinging a cheap nylon gym bag over his shoulder. There was a clean towel, a bottle of water, and nerves he could not quite swallow down.

His clone was out there working in the warehouse, performing push-ups on his breaks and living off of old ramen. That left the actual Do-hyun alone on his way to the gym entrance. His steps were irresolute, careful yet firm. That old feeling in his stomach? It was just like it was when he first pressed the button marked Start on some online game—the fear and excitement of going into a dungeon.

And then—

"YO, YOU BASTARD!"

A big palm struck him on the shoulder like a hammer dropped out of the sky. Do-hyun turned around with his eyes wide and was about to run when he saw a mountain of muscle in front of him.

It was Nam Tae-joon (남태준).

Large. Boisterous. High-powered like a firecracker stuffed into a human skin suit.

"You don't even know me, huh?" Tae-joon laughed out loud. "You sly dog! Where did you lose your fat cheeks, man? You been having air for dinner?"

Do-hyun stared at him with his mouth half open. Then, as an old engine turning over, he smirked. "I didn't know that bricks could speak. Are you exercising now?"

"Hah! You bet! I will be the next Shu-bum. Haven't you heard of him? Top-rank Awakened. Bench presses monsters in his sleep!"

Do-hyun shrugged. "I see. Then I wanna be Ramen, king of instant power."

Tae-joon broke up. "You're still dumb."

The two troublemakers strolled down the block, weaving past a line of vending machines, chatting about nothing and everything. It was funny—just a month ago, Do-hyun wouldn't have dreamed of stepping foot outside before sunset. Now he was heading to a gym. Voluntarily.

Their destination stood tall and gray, squeezed between an apartment building and a fried chicken joint. On the wall, someone had painted the words "Muscle Heaven," though the 'v' was half peeled off, making it read more like "Muscle Hea-en."

"Didn't you say there'd be a hot trainer here?" Do-hyun asked.

"I heard rumors," Tae-joon said, suddenly less confident. "She's supposed to be this intense lady, real strict. Wears black tank tops and destroys weaklings with words."

As they entered, Do-hyun expected perfume and tight leggings. Instead, the first thing he saw was sweat. Buckets of it.

Men—huge, grunting, greasy—were bench pressing iron like they were forging weapons in a volcano. Chicken legs and protein bars were scattered across tables. Dumbbells lined the floor like landmines. One guy had his shirt off and was doing squats while staring at himself in the mirror.

It felt less like a gym and more like a gladiator pit.

A rough, booming voice cut through the air.

"You two! Rookies?"

A tall man stepped out of the back room, wearing a tank top that could barely contain his biceps. His chest was so wide it looked like a bulletproof shield. A name tag hung from his shirt: Ma Dong-sik (마동식).

"First day?" he grunted.

Do-hyun gave a small bow. "Yes, sir. I want to learn everything. All the basics."

Dong-sik raised an eyebrow. "All of them?"

"I'm training someone else later. I need to understand every movement myself first."

Dong-sik looked him over. "You're smaller than my protein scoop. But fine. Warm-up starts now. Fifteen minutes. Jog, stretch, foam roll. Then we begin."

The next hour was like being tossed into a meat grinder.

Do-hyun jogged in small circles, his sneakers barely whispering against the rubber mats. His heart beat steady. His breaths came measured. All the while, he watched carefully. Every step. Every rep. Every strained breath from the guy curling a heavy dumbbell in the corner.

He mimicked everything. Not perfectly. Not even close. But he was learning.

Then came the weights.

Do-hyun picked up two tiny two-kilo dumbbells. They felt heavier than they looked. His fingers trembled slightly. Sweat beaded on his forehead after the third rep. His shoulders screamed in protest.

"You okay, man?" Tae-joon said, walking over like a showoff. In each hand, he carried twenty-kilo plates.

"This is my first time," Do-hyun replied through gritted teeth. "Trying to build foundation."

Tae-joon lifted both arms and flexed. "Look at me. First day too."

Do-hyun rolled his eyes. "Sure, and I'm secretly a prince."

But even as he teased, he was analyzing. Tae-joon's posture. How his elbows bent. How he kept his back straight. How he breathed out when lifting and in when lowering.

That was the secret. He wasn't here to show off. He was here to learn. Because once he got it down, his clone could replicate everything a thousand times better.

In his head, he was already planning the training schedule. One day for chest. One for legs. Then core. Then flexibility. Over time, he could build a balanced body through pure repetition.

What most people didn't understand was that Awakened power wasn't just about flashy skills. It was about how you used what you had.

And if he could use two bodies?

He could cheat the entire system.

Still, one thing kept bugging him. He glanced sideways again. Tae-joon's arms weren't just big. They were dense. His grip strength, the way he handled those weights, was unnatural.

"You said you awakened, right?" Do-hyun asked, wiping his forehead.

Tae-joon grinned. "Yup. Got lucky. Two abilities."

"No wonder."

One of them had to be Strength-based. That explained his ridiculous numbers. The other? Do-hyun would have to find out.

For now, he stayed quiet. Observing. Learning. Plotting.

It was funny. His clone was out there right now, lifting boxes at that shady logistics place. Maybe sweating. Maybe not. Maybe carrying ten crates at once like a forklift on steroids.

And here he was, doing two-kilo curls, with sweat dripping from his chin like a faucet.

But he didn't mind. Because the real power?

It came from understanding.

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