The minutes slowly tick by, and soon everyone has a weapon, a schedule, and a bundle of clothes. The experts all depart, and shortly thereafter other soldiers begin to file in. Just a few minutes later, names are being read off one-by-one in a process that takes a full hour. My lack of sleep begins to catch up with me, causing me to be [that guy], the one who doesn't answer during roll call. Thankfully, I got it on the second try.
After roll call, it is time for another meal. I am left in utter dismay at the total lack of anything with caffeine, though I must say that the gritty water compliments the tasteless oatmeal quite nicely. While eating my basic breakfast, a horrific thought occurs: [what if… what if they don't have coffee?!] No coffee anywhere in the world… the thought almost makes me faint… or is that the lack of caffeine…?
After my depressing breakfast, I exit the dining hall with a mob of others, all intent on making our way to our training sessions. My training is set to take place at 'East Field 6' and, after asking about a dozen people, I finally get a concrete answer for where exactly that is. After making the journey to the field, a journey that fully impresses upon me how large this compound is for being a city center, I find myself among the last to arrive. Not late though. Definitely not that…
Our instructor, a man with even more muscles than the absurd Commander Lion, roars out "You all know how this works! Stand by the boulder you'll be lifting today. As for the one newbie, you'll be working with this one." he says with a cruel smile, gesturing towards an absolutely massive rock lying directly in front of him. This elicits some laughter from the other soldiers.
"Tough luck, newbie. Usually a group of newcomers will each experience this introduction, but since you're the only newcomer this time around, you'll get the full 'breaking in;' a full three hours of it!" A soldier says loudly, getting a host of laughs. The instructor simply snorts at this outburst, then, apparently taking offense at my leisurely gait, orders "Come on! We haven't got all day."
Once I am standing next to my boulder, he looks out over the soldiers. "Now, pick them up and hold them over your heads for fifteen minutes!" The soldiers all pick up their 'boulders,' merely large rocks in comparison with mine. Though there is some considerable huffing and puffing on the part of the soldiers, they all manage to lift their rocks. However, my comically large boulder, which surely weighs several tons, does not budge. [I see how this is. He'll use this as an opportunity to break me in and assert dominance. By forcing me to do an impossible task that I cannot even slightly progress towards, and berating me the whole time, he will tear down whatever self-esteem that I may have. However, I'm not going to fall for his methods. Surely the quickest method to raise the strength skill and physical strength will be to strain my muscles against this weight with all of my might. Surely not even he would be able to berate me for slacking when my arms are torn to bloody shreds!]
My absurd plan in mind, I pull up on the boulder, channeling the strength from every muscle in my body towards this one goal. Agony quickly begins to rip through my back and arms, tempting me to quit this foolish endeavor. But, I refuse to quit. Even though I could be spared this agony by activating my pain resistance ability, I choose not to. This small victory will be far more legitimate if I persist through the pain like a normal person. And, of course, pain resistance comes with numbness reminiscent of the blackness, a feeling that I am unwilling to endure. I pull against the boulder, muscles straining and tearing. Even my skin rips, prompting rivers of blood to flow down my arms. The instructor looks quite taken aback; evidently, he has never had such a good student as me before! And, my methods work. I quickly gain Lesser Strength level one, and from there my strength levels up twice before he orders me to stop with a forceful tone.
I of course, immediately halt my activity, stand up, and look him straight in the eyes. He maintains eye contact for a mere moment before looking away. After he formulates his thoughts, he remarks "Clearly you were too pathetically weak for this task. Furthermore, you have no grasp over the important concept of moderation. Honestly, you are a bit of a lost cause. But, sigh, I suppose that due to the boundless kindness of my humble heart, I cannot help but fall for the urge to aide you on your path to true strength. Be grateful." I am genuinely impressed at how pompous this individual is. He comes off as quite comedic in nature, and I immediately know that he and I are going to have a lot of fun together.
I bow low before him, and, with a tone of reverence, say "I will be in your care, great beacon of strength. Guide me through the sea of darkness that is the struggle to increase one's physical strength, the struggle of [working out]. By your great teachings, I have already developed lesser strength and raised it to level three. For that, I thank you, O wise master."
"Heh?! Level three already? What remarkable progress, young disciple. Clearly, the master knows best!" he says, clearly too dense to see through my boundless praise. Apparently quite happy with the 'respect' that I have shown him, he gives me a potion that mends my torn muscles. He then directs me towards a much smaller rock that he says is closer to my skill level. I hold it over my head with three fingers for the remainder of the fifteen minutes, time in which his happiness over my compliments fully diminishes and he again becomes irritated with my attitude. He clearly wants to call me out on something, but I handle all of his strength exercises with relative ease.
At the end of our time with him, he remarks "Tomorrow we will crank up the difficulty a bit!" a line that gets me many many dirty looks from the other soldiers.
After strength training is endurance training, and so I make my way towards the field indicated on my schedule. The endurance training is far less eventful than the strength class, operated by a cool-headed older man who orders us to run laps for three hours. I push myself to the maximum, getting a Lesser Speed and Lesser Endurance skill for my effort. My leg muscles feel as if they have fully decomposed by the time I am done, but hey: such are the measures that one must be willing to undertake in the name of strength.