The decision was made before he even opened his eyes the next morning.
He was leaving the hotel.
He had stayed long enough. The footsteps from the previous night had not left his mind. Not because he was certain something was wrong — but because he couldn't confirm that nothing was. And in his current situation, uncertainty was a risk he didn't need.
He packed quickly. He didn't have much. A bag of clothes, his laptop, his notebook, the NZT pouch and his cash. Everything fit neatly into one bag.
He checked out without drawing attention, paid in cash and walked out into the morning air.
He spent the first hour simply walking.
Not wandering — thinking.
He needed a place that was quiet, cheap enough not to drain his capital, but decent enough to work from comfortably. A place where neighbours minded their own business and no one would remember his face.
After asking around casually he found what he was looking for. A small furnished apartment on the edge of a modest neighbourhood. Monthly rent. No unnecessary questions. The landlord was an older man who seemed more interested in getting paid on time than knowing anything about his tenant.
'Perfect', Aditya thought as he looked around the small space.
It wasn't much. A bed, a desk, a small kitchen and a bathroom. The walls were plain and the furniture was old but clean. A single window looked out over a quiet street below.
He put his bag down and sat at the desk.
'This will do.'
He paid the first month's rent in cash, got his key and settled in.
That afternoon he took his NZT and got back to work.
The app was coming along. What had started as rough notes and basic code was beginning to take shape into something real. He had a clear structure now — a clean interface, a smart scheduling system and a simple but effective reminder feature. Nothing overcomplicated. Just something that worked better than anything currently available in 2011.
He opened his laptop and continued from where he had stopped the previous day.
Line by line the code grew steadily. He worked without rushing, checking each section carefully before moving to the next. When he found an error he fixed it immediately and moved on without frustration. Errors were just part of the process.
By evening he had completed the core functionality.
He leaned back and looked at the screen.
The app was basic but it worked. Clean. Responsive. Exactly what he had planned.
'Phase one done', he thought.
He noted it in his notebook and closed the laptop.
He sat quietly for a moment after that.
Then his eyes moved to his bag.
He reached in and pulled out the small notebook where he had written his original workout routine back in his dorm room. He hadn't looked at it in weeks. He flipped through the pages slowly, reading his own handwriting.
Walking. Running. Home exercises. Diet plan.
He had abandoned all of it after the soreness hit.
He put the notebook down on the desk and leaned back in his chair.
'That was then', he thought. 'Things are different now.'
Back in his dorm he had no direction, no money and no real reason to push through the discomfort. Now he had all three. He had goals that actually required a stronger body. He had seen his stats. He knew exactly how far below average he was in everything except intelligence.
That needed to change.
He picked up his pen and opened to a fresh page and started writing down the things he needed to solve his health problem properly this time.
A gym. A nutritionist. A realistic routine.
He wasn't going to repeat the same mistake of doing everything alone without guidance. Last time he had copied random routines from the internet, pushed too hard too fast and his body had given out within a week. This time he was going to do it properly.
He had the money now. There was no excuse.
The next morning he stepped outside and started looking.
He found a gym within walking distance of his apartment. It wasn't large or fancy — just a straightforward space with the basic equipment he needed. A few treadmills, free weights, benches and machines lined up along the walls. The kind of place where people came to actually work rather than socialise.
He walked in and looked around.
A man at the front desk glanced up at him.
"Looking to join?", the man asked.
"Yes", Aditya said. "And I need a trainer."
The man nodded and slid a form across the desk.
He filled it out, paid the membership fee and was introduced to his trainer — a stocky man in his thirties named Marcus who looked like he had spent the better part of his life in a gym.
Marcus looked him over once, the way trainers do, assessing without commenting.
"First time training properly?", he asked.
"Yes", Aditya said simply.
"Alright", Marcus said. "We start from the basics. No shortcuts."
'Good', Aditya thought. 'That's exactly what I need.'
The nutritionist was his next stop.
He had asked around and found a clinic not far from the gym. The nutritionist was a straightforward and no-nonsense woman named Dr. Priya Sharma. The moment he walked in he noticed the small framed photo of what looked like a temple on her desk and a steel tiffin box sitting beside her files — the kind his mother used to pack back home.
Something about it made him feel unexpectedly comfortable.
She asked him a series of questions about his eating habits, his current weight, his goals and his budget before saying anything at all. He answered everything honestly.
She listened carefully, made notes and then looked up at him with the kind of direct expression that reminded him of every strict aunt he had ever known.
"You are eating like a bachelor with no schedule and no sense", she said flatly. "Your body has no rhythm at all."
He opened his mouth to respond.
She didn't wait.
"I have seen this a hundred times. Boys leave home, stop eating properly and then wonder why they feel terrible." She shook her head slightly. "You are lucky you came before it got worse."
She put together a meal plan for him without wasting another minute. Three proper meals a day with specific timings. Breakfast heavy enough to fuel a morning workout — she specifically wrote down poha or oats, not biscuits. Lunch balanced with protein and carbohydrates. Dinner light.
"And drink water", she added firmly, as if this was something she had to say out loud. "Not cold drinks. Water."
"Yes", he said.
She looked at him once more before he left.
"Come back in two weeks. I will know if you followed it or not."
He didn't doubt that for a second.
He nodded, folded the meal plan carefully into his notebook and walked out.
That same evening he sat at his desk and rewrote his plan from scratch.
Week 1 — Foundation
Morning gym session with Marcus — low intensity, form focused. Three meals a day following Dr. Priya's plan. No exceptions. App development — minimum 4 hours daily. Sleep by 11. Wake by 6.
He looked at it for a moment.
It wasn't dramatic. But it was structured properly this time. Every part had a purpose and every part had a person behind it who knew what they were doing.
'Start right', he thought. 'Stay consistent.'
The first session with Marcus was humbling.
He wasn't pushed hard — that was the problem. Marcus kept everything light and technical, correcting his posture on every single exercise, adjusting his grip, slowing him down when he tried to rush.
"You're not here to sweat today", Marcus said at one point. "You're here to learn how to move."
Aditya said nothing and did exactly as he was told.
By the end of the session his body wasn't exhausted but his mind had absorbed more than he expected. Form, breathing, sequencing — things he had completely ignored when training alone in his dorm.
He walked back to his apartment slowly, ate the breakfast Dr. Priya had prescribed and sat down at his desk.
He opened his laptop and got back to work on the app.
The days that followed settled into a quiet and steady rhythm.
Morning gym session. Breakfast. Work on the app. Small trades in the afternoon to keep his capital growing. Evening review of the day in his notebook. Sleep on time.
No drama. No distractions.
He didn't push his body harder than Marcus allowed. When the soreness came on the third day he acknowledged it, stretched carefully and continued anyway. Not aggressively — just consistently. He had learned from before that the moment he tried to rush the process was the moment everything fell apart.
This time he wasn't rushing.
By the end of the week his sessions with Marcus had moved from purely technical to slightly more demanding. His push ups had increased. His endurance on the treadmill had improved. Small numbers, but they were moving in the right direction.
He checked his stats one evening after returning from the gym.
"Khushi."
"Yes, host."
"Show me my current stats."
[Host : Aditya]
[Species : Human]
[Gender : Male]
[Age : 22]
[Stats]
[Health : 7] (Normal person : 10)
[Energy : 0]
[Strength : 8] (Normal person : 10)
[Speed : 7] (Normal person : 10)
[Endurance : 7] (Normal person : 10)
[Intelligence : 14] (Normal person : 10)
[Attributes : 0]
[Skills : Driving (level 1), Swimming (level 1)]
[Equipment : Nil]
[Points : 270]
He looked at the numbers quietly.
Endurance had gone up by one point.
It wasn't much. But it was real.
'One point in a week', he thought. 'Keep going.'
He closed the screen and leaned back.
Outside his window the city moved as usual. Unaware. Ordinary.
He looked at his notebook on the desk. The app. The trades. The gym. The meal plan. Everything was progressing quietly, without noise, without attention.
Exactly how he wanted it.
He picked up his pen and wrote one line at the bottom of the page.
Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.
He closed the notebook and turned off the light.
Tomorrow, another day. Another step forward.