Chapter 11
The first kilometer wasn't terrible. Elijah's legs were stiff, his lungs burned a little, but he kept pace with Kai easily enough. The streets of the 7th District were empty at this hour, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.
The second kilometer was worse.
His breathing turned ragged. His calves ached. The cold air cut into his throat with every inhale. Beside him, Kai jogged like this was nothing, his breathing steady, his stride smooth.
"How... much... farther?" Elijah gasped.
Kai glanced at him. "We've done two."
"So we're almost done?"
"We have eight more."
Elijah stopped. "Eight? Kai, I can't run eight more kilometers. I've never run ten kilometers in my life."
Kai jogged in place, not even winded. "You've never done a lot of things. That doesn't mean you can't."
"I physically cannot run eight more kilometers. My body will stop functioning. My legs will detach and walk away without me."
"Then we'll walk the last few." Kai pointed ahead. "Come on. Stop complaining."
Elijah started moving again, slower now, his feet heavy against the concrete. His mind searched for anything to focus on besides the burning in his chest and the ache in his legs.
The breathing technique.
He hadn't been able to find Ki during meditation, but maybe he didn't need to find it. Maybe he just needed to breathe.
In, Hold, Out.
He matched his breath to his steps. In for four steps, Hold for four, Out for four.
The pain didn't go away. His legs still burned, his lungs still ached, but something shifted. His mind had something to do now. Something to focus on besides the suffering. The rhythm became a wall between him and the exhaustion.
In, Hold, Out.
Kai glanced at him again, noticing the change in his breathing, but said nothing.
They ran through the empty streets, past closed shops and dark windows, past the border where the 7th District bled into the 8th. The sky was lighter now, grey pushing back the black.
By the time they reached five kilometers, Elijah had stopped thinking entirely. There was only the breath. The rhythm. The simple repetition of air moving in and out of his body.
They stopped at a building Elijah didn't recognize. It was close to the border between districts, unmarked except for a faded sign that might have once advertised something else. Kai pulled a key from his pocket and opened the door.
Inside was a gym.
Not the kind Elijah expected. There were weights, yes, but also ropes hanging from the ceiling, heavy bags suspended from chains, wooden dummies with worn surfaces. The floor was concrete, stained with sweat and something darker. The air smelled of metal and effort.
"What is this place?" Elijah asked, still catching his breath.
"Somewhere to train," Kai said, moving toward the weights. "Can't build a gang with a leader who can't defend himself."
"I thought that's what you were for."
Kai laughed. "I won't always be there. And even if I am, you should be able to stand on your own. That's the point, isn't it? What you told Mike?"
Elijah didn't answer.
They started with the ropes. Kai showed him how to climb, how to use his legs instead of just his arms, how to breathe through the strain. Elijah made it halfway up before his grip failed and he slid back down.
Again, Again.
His hands burned. His shoulders screamed. But he kept breathing.
After the ropes came the bags. Heavy canvas sacks filled with something dense that made Elijah's knuckles sting when he hit them. Kai corrected his stance, his form, the way he threw his weight into each strike.
"Stop punching with your face," Kai said. "Keep your guard up."
"I am keeping my guard up."
"Your hands are at your chest. That's not a guard. That's a suggestion."
Elijah adjusted, lifted his hands higher, and kept hitting.
The breathing technique stayed with him through all of it. In, Hold, Out. The rhythm was automatic now, something his body did without thinking.
They moved to the weights. Kai gave him a bar with plates on each end—not heavy, Elijah realized. Just enough to be work, Just enough to make him strain without breaking.
"Squats," Kai said. "Then presses, rows and we're done."
"How many?"
"Three sets of each. Ten reps."
Elijah lifted the bar onto his shoulders and started. His legs shook. His back ached. But he kept breathing, kept moving, kept his mind on the rhythm instead of the pain.
By the third set, he wasn't sure if he was still using the technique or if the technique was using him. The breath moved through him like something separate, something older than his exhaustion.
When he dropped the bar for the last time, his arms hanging at his sides, sweat dripping from his face onto the concrete floor, Kai nodded.
"That's what you should be doing every day."
Elijah looked up. "Every day?"
"Every day." Kai picked up a towel and threw it at him. "You don't build a foundation in one morning."
Elijah caught the towel and wiped his face. The irony of Kai's words almost made him laugh.
"Meet me at the building in the 9th District later today," Kai said. "We need to talk about what comes next."
"What time?"
"Afternoon. I'll text you."
Kai left without waiting for a response, the door closing behind him with a solid click.
Elijah stood in the middle of the gym, alone, his body trembling with exhaustion. He lowered himself to the floor, his back against one of the heavy bags, and closed his eyes.
The breathing technique came easily now. In, Hold, Out. His heartbeat slowed. The ache in his muscles faded to something distant. He let himself sink into the rhythm, into the space between breaths, into the stillness that waited underneath.
He didn't know how long he sat there. Minutes or hours. The world outside the gym could have been burning and he wouldn't have noticed.
When he opened his eyes, his body felt different. Not rested, exactly. But settled. Like something inside him had clicked into place.
He checked the system.
[Eternal Ground Tree Breathing Technique - Level 1 - 5%]
Five percent. From one hour of meditation and a morning of work.
The system screen flickered, and he noticed something else. His stats had changed.
Status
Name: Elijah Ashford
Level: 1
Stats
Strength: 7 → 8
Endurance: 9 → 10
Defense: 8
Intelligence: 23
Charm: 15
Willpower: 5 → 6
Two stats had increased. Strength and endurance. Small changes, but real. Tangible.
Elijah stared at the numbers for a long moment. Then he closed the screen, pushed himself up from the floor, and walked out of the gym into the morning light.