The pink-haired woman jogged for another five kilometers, her pace steady and controlled, never once looking back at Eric who trailed behind her like a determined shadow.
Eric's newly enhanced stamina kept him going far longer than he'd expected, but even upgraded stats had their limits. His lungs burned, his legs ached in that deep muscle way that promised soreness later, and sweat poured down his face and back.
'Why am I still running?' some rational part of his brain demanded. 'The quest is complete. You got your rewards. You can stop now.'
But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Something about the way she moved, the confidence in her stride, the challenge of keeping up, drove him forward.
Finally, blessedly, she slowed as she approached a small park. Trees provided shade over worn benches and a playground that had seen better years. The woman came to a stop near a bench, pulling a water bottle from somewhere Eric hadn't noticed she was carrying.
Eric stumbled into the park about thirty seconds later and immediately collapsed onto the grass.
His chest heaved, each breath feeling like fire. His muscles screamed in protest. The stat increases had let him go far beyond his normal capabilities, but they hadn't made him invincible.
"Oh my God," he gasped between breaths. "I'm dying. This is how I die."
A sound made him look up.
The pink-haired woman was laughing. Not a polite chuckle or restrained giggle. Full, genuine laughter that made her bend slightly at the waist, her warm brown eyes crinkling with amusement.
Eric stared at her through his exhaustion, then looked down at himself sprawled on the grass like a corpse, and couldn't help but smile.
'I look ridiculous,' he realized. 'Absolutely ridiculous.'
"I have to know," Eric said between gasps, "is this what death feels like? Because I feel like my lungs are trying to escape through my throat."
That made her laugh even harder, a bright sound that echoed through the quiet park.
"You ran ten kilometers," she said when she could speak again, her voice slightly breathless but nowhere near as wrecked as Eric's. "For a first-timer, that's either impressive or incredibly stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
She grinned, taking another drink from her water bottle. "Definitely both." She walked closer, looking down at him with open amusement. "What possessed you to keep going after your first five? Most people would have stopped."
Eric opened his mouth to give some smooth, charming response, but what came out was painfully honest. "Your bodysuit is really distracting."
The woman blinked, surprised, then burst into fresh laughter. "Oh my God. You ran an extra five kilometers because you liked my outfit?"
"In my defense," Eric said, finally managing to sit up despite his protesting muscles, "it's a very effective outfit. Should come with a warning label."
"A warning label," she repeated, clearly delighted. "Saying what?"
"Caution: may cause spontaneous exercise."
She laughed again, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."
"Ridiculously committed to poor life choices," Eric agreed. He struggled to his feet, using every ounce of his enhanced strength to not look as shaky as he felt. "I'm Eric, by the way. Eric Reid-Leveson. Local idiot who doesn't know when to stop running."
He delivered it with his best smile, the one that usually worked on clients. Charming, self-deprecating, approachable.
The woman's smile widened, but her eyes held knowing amusement. "Is that your pickup line? Because it needs work."
"That wasn't the pickup line," Eric protested. "That was just the introduction."
"Oh? And what's the actual pickup line?"
Eric's mind raced, his intelligence stat working overtime despite the physical exhaustion. "How about: I know we just met, but I'm pretty sure you're responsible for my newfound interest in cardio."
She laughed, but there was something cautious in her expression now. "Creative. But I'm going to guess you use lines like that often."
"Actually, this is my first time doing this," Eric admitted. "The running thing. Meeting someone at a park. Usually, I'm much smoother."
"I bet you are." She took another drink, studying him with those warm brown eyes. "Let me guess. You're the type who's very good with words, knows exactly what to say, probably has women eating out of your hand."
Eric blinked, thrown by the accuracy. "That's... oddly specific."
"Am I wrong?"
"No," he admitted. "But in my defense, I'm usually better rested when I'm being charming."
She smiled, but didn't offer her name. "Nice to meet you, Eric Reid-Leveson. Thanks for the entertainment."
"Wait," Eric said as she turned to leave. "I gave you my name. Don't I get yours?"
She glanced back, considering. "Maybe if you can keep up next time."
"That's not fair. I'm currently experiencing what I'm pretty sure is a cardiac event."
"Should've thought of that before running ten kilometers."
Eric laughed despite himself. "Okay, fair point. But seriously, I'd like to know your name. If only so I know who to blame when my legs stop working tomorrow."
She studied him for a long moment, something shifting in her expression. Then she smiled, genuine and warm.
"Zara," she said. "Zara Hughes."
"Zara Hughes," Eric repeated, committing it to memory. "Beautiful name for a woman who nearly killed me with exercise."
"I didn't make you run," Zara pointed out. "That was all you and your poor impulse control."
"My impulse control is actually usually excellent," Eric said. "You're just... distracting."
"There's that word again."
"It's accurate."
Zara shook her head, but she was smiling. "Do you do this often? The running thing?"
"This?" Eric gestured at his sweat-soaked shirt and probably red face. "Absolutely not. This is my first time running in... honestly, I don't think I've ever run this much in my life."
"Really?" Zara's eyebrows rose. "You're out here at six AM on a Sunday for your first run ever?"
"Would you believe me if I said I was inspired?"
"By what?"
'By a mysterious system that appeared after I slept with my thousandth woman,' Eric thought but definitely couldn't say. "By a sudden realization that I need to take better care of myself?"
Zara's expression said she didn't quite believe him, but she let it slide. "Well, first time or not, you kept up pretty well. Most people would have given up halfway through."
"I'm very motivated by beautiful women in athletic wear," Eric said, then immediately wanted to take it back. Too obvious. Too forward.
But Zara just laughed. "You're shameless."
"Shamelessly honest," Eric corrected. He pulled out his phone, unlocking it despite his shaking hands. "Can I get your number? You know, in case I survive this experience and decide to be stupid enough to try running again."
Zara hesitated, and Eric could see her weighing the decision. He'd pushed too fast, been too forward. He was about to backtrack when she held out her hand.
"Fine. But if you're going to text me, make it interesting. I get boring messages all day."
Eric handed over his phone, watching as she typed in her number and handed it back. He checked the contact.
Zara Hughes, followed by a running emoji.
"The emoji is a nice touch," Eric observed.
"I'm a nice person," Zara said, but she was smiling. "Now, I need to finish my cooldown routine. And you need to go home before you collapse."
"Probably wise advice."
Zara stepped closer, and Eric caught that incredible perfume again. Jasmine and something darker, more complex. Up close, he could see flecks of gold in her brown eyes, the faint sheen of sweat on her skin that somehow made her look even more attractive.
She opened her arms slightly. "Hug for surviving your first real run?"
Eric didn't need to be asked twice. He stepped into the hug, and despite his exhaustion and sweat-soaked state, it felt natural. Zara's arms wrapped around him briefly, firm and friendly, before she stepped back.
"I live in Riverside Heights," she said casually. "The newer development near the waterfront. If you're serious about this running thing, the route along the river is beautiful in the mornings."
Riverside Heights. Eric's mind catalogued that immediately. The newest, most expensive area in Stardale. Luxury condos and townhouses that started at prices Eric couldn't afford in ten years of his current work.
'She's rich,' he realized. 'Really rich.'
"I'm over on Maple Street," Eric offered. "The older apartments near the community center."
"I know the area," Zara said, and there was no judgment in it. Just acknowledgment. "Well, Eric Reid-Leveson from Maple Street, maybe I'll see you out here again."
"Count on it," Eric said, surprising himself by meaning it.
Zara waved and jogged off, her pink hair catching the morning sunlight, leaving Eric standing in the park feeling like he'd just experienced something significant but couldn't quite articulate what.
He looked down at his phone, at Zara's number saved in his contacts.
'She's young,' he thought, his enhanced intelligence processing information rapidly. 'My age, maybe. Lives in Riverside Heights, which means serious money. Confident, funny, absolutely gorgeous. And she gave me her number.'
Eric started the walk back to his apartment, his legs protesting every step but his mind racing.
'I just met her and I already like her,' he realized, the thought both exciting and slightly concerning. 'That's... unusual.'
Usually, Eric's interest in women was straightforward. Professional or recreational, but always with clear boundaries. He didn't do feelings, didn't do genuine interest beyond the physical or financial.
But something about Zara felt different. The easy laughter, the way she'd called him out without being mean, the challenge in her eyes.
'Don't overthink it,' Eric told himself. 'Just a number. Just a possibility. Nothing more.'
But he caught himself smiling at his phone anyway.