AN: I AM LATE TODAY. Hope you saved some ps for me.
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As the days passed, Bruce continued to devote himself to his training. His past life's knowledge of Tony Stark's training regimen played a significant role in his training. In the past, he used to train with veterans like Captain Carter, Black Widow, Black Panther, and others.
"Thanks to them, I can now get stronger than before,' He mumbled under his breath. 'And I think I should thank this ring whenever it wakes up. I have healed rapidly without any side effects a coma patient faces after waking up. Heck, I feel even better than I have ever felt. I got freaking abs... It must be because of this ring. If one can do this much, I can't wait to get my hands on the remaining nine rings.'
In the makeshift gym within Wayne Manor, he stood before a punching bag. He was shirtless, revealing the chiseled physique he had developed over weeks of rigorous training.
"Let's go," He began his practice. He threw jabs and crosses, working on his footwork and speed. Each punch was precise, controlled, and powerful. His moves were fluid.
It was a form of fighting born from a mixture of his experiences, but that was when he was Tony Stark. Right now, he is Bruce Wayne, an 18-year-old boy who just woke up from a coma after 10 long years. That's why he needed to get used to his body. That's the key to surviving this new reality that was thrust on him. The time was ripe. He is young. He can get stronger than his previous life... Stronger... and better...
He is young, but there is an advantage to his youthful age, to be able to have the speed of movement of a youth with the wisdom and strength of a veteran. His punches gradually picked up speed as he continued his workout. Sweat dripped down his bare chest as he pushed himself harder. His breathing was steady, and his focus sharp.
Every move was calculated and deliberate.
"Haaa!" With a loud scream, he punched as hard as he could, sending the punching bag flying across the room. It crashed against the wall, causing dust to fly everywhere. Blood was dripping from his knuckles due to the impact, yet Bruce remained unfazed. He looked at his knuckles and smirked, "This body is freaking weak. Damn it! If only I was a bit careful back then... Fuck! 10 years..."
He walked to retrieve the punching bag, only to find Selina staring at him, dumbfounded.
"Your hand!" She rushed towards Bruce and grabbed his injured hand.
"Ahh, it's nothing. Just a small cut," He smiled and shrugged.
"Nothing? You're bleeding, Bruce!" She exclaimed, clearly worried about him.
Their eyes met once again, locking together, speaking what they struggled to express with their mouths. Bruce could not help but feel mesmerized by her beauty. Her green emerald eyes sparkled under the lights, captivating him. Her porcelain skin glowed, accentuating her delicate features. Bruce felt his heartbeat quicken as he gazed at her. Selina's presence was intoxicating, drawing him closer to her. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure.
"It's okay, Selina. Really, it's just a small cut," He reassured her as he gently pulled his hand away. He doesn't want his feelings to interrupt his training. He must get stronger before the Black Mask's gang wreaks havoc in Gotham City. He needs to stop them, and all the other villains who are going to emerge in the future. And for that, he must keep training.
"Please, Bruce. Don't push yourself too hard," She pleaded as she followed him. "I'm sure mom would kill you if she finds out."
He chuckled, "Don't worry. I'll be fine. Besides, Alfred knows how to patch me up."
She frowned and crossed her arms, "If only you're not this stubborn."
"Hey, hey, hey... I'm not stubborn. You are doing your best without a single complaint, and don't you dare to say it's because of the deal between us," He raised his finger, stopping Selina from cutting in, "I know you're doing all this because you want to. So, I too will do my best to achieve my goal."
She heaved a sigh, "I am doing this for you, Bruce. So that when you need me someday, I won't be useless."
"If mom heard you saying that, she would slap you silly," He teased as he wrapped a bandage around his knuckles.
Selina pouted, "Shut up!"
"What brings you here anyway?" He asked.
"I... Erm... I was just passing by," She stuttered, averting Bruce's gaze.
He raised his brow, "Passing by huh?" He pulled up a new sandbag and tied it to the ceiling.
Selina scratched her head awkwardly, "Okay fine! Alfred asked me to check on you and stop you if you decided to go crazy with your training."
"So, you were spying on me," Bruce grinned playfully.
Her cheeks flushed red, "You bastard! Who said I'm spying on you!? Hmph!" She huffed and stormed out of the gym.
'Dang! She looks cute when she's angry,' He shook his head and focused on his training. He has already wasted enough time talking with Selina. There was still so much he needed to do.
Time flew by, and Bruce continued his training.
[3 months later]
Three months have passed since Bruce started training. During this period, he improved immensely. From simple workouts, he moved on to more complex routines. His body grew stronger, tougher, and faster. His stamina also increased significantly.
Alfred kept a close eye on Bruce, making sure he ate right and slept well. But even though he does everything according to his schedule, Bruce never stops training. He trained day and night until exhaustion hit him.
He has been working out for hours non-stop. Sweat poured down his muscular frame as he continued lifting weights. His muscles strained under the pressure, but Bruce remained focused. He gritted his teeth and pushed through. He is determined to reach his limit. He wants to become stronger, and fast enough to fight crime.
Bruce paused for a moment to catch his breath.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the towel that Alfred had brought him. He gratefully accepted the cold bottle of water, taking a long, refreshing drink.
"Thank you, Alfred," he said between sips, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath.
Alfred watched him closely, concern etched in his features. "Master Bruce, you've made remarkable progress in your training, but you mustn't push yourself too hard. You risk injury."
"Don't worry, Alfred. I know my body very well," Bruce reassured him. "Besides, injuries happen. It comes with training."
Alfred sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Very well, Master Bruce. However, please remember to take breaks every now and then. Your health is important."
He nodded, "Sure thing, Alfred."
With that said, he resumed his training.
[1 month later]
Another month passed, and Bruce continued his rigorous routine. He has been pushing himself to the limits, training day and night. He did everything possible to strengthen his body and increase his endurance. He ate healthy foods and drank plenty of fluids. He exercised daily, building muscle mass and improving his overall fitness level.
As a result, Bruce gained immense physical capabilities. His strength increased exponentially. His muscles became thicker and harder. His reflexes sharpened drastically, allowing him to react quicker than ever before. But right now, he needs a sparring partner. So, he asked his father to allow him to train with one of his veteran guards, who is proficient in close-quarter combat.
"You want her to spar with you?!" Thomas exclaimed incredulously.
Bruce nodded, "Yes, dad. I believe sparring with someone who is proficient in close-quarter combat would be beneficial to me."
Thomas rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering his request.
"You do know she is the daughter of a war veteran. She won't show you any mercy," He warned Bruce.
"That's exactly why I chose her, Dad. I need someone who won't hold back during the spar," He explained confidently. "Also, I need some instructions from her. Training alone isn't helping me anymore."
Thomas sighed, "Alright then. I'll allow her to train with you. But promise me you'll stop whenever you feel pain."
He smiled brightly, "Thank you, dad!"
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