Still charged with mana, he went to the gym and began his workout.
Absorbing it had already enhanced his strength, but training helped burn off the excess and pushed his body even further.
'One... Two... Three...'
For two hours, the sound of weights hitting the floor echoed through the gym, mixed with steady breathing.
He started with heavy bench presses—more weight than most pros could handle.
Then came squats, deadlifts, shoulder presses, and pull-ups.
Each one hit different muscle groups, keeping the pressure up with almost no rest.
'That felt good,' he let out a deep breath.
'Funny how this old-school workout still works after all these years. If it isn't broken, don't fix it.'
After finishing, he stepped into the public shower and let hot water wash away sweat and tension.
When he came out, a tall woman caught his eye. She was tying up her silver hair in the mirror.
Her tight black workout clothes showed a defined abdomen and strong curves. She stood at least 6'2".
Caught staring, he shook off the feeling building in his bottom part.
But before he could walk off, a voice stopped him.
"Hi, are you a new resident?"
He turned, only to see her smiling at him.
"I'm Anna Ivanov," she said, tilting her head slightly, her blue eyes dazzling.
"I haven't seen you around before. Maybe we could exchange numbers, and..." she trailed off, eyes drifting to his biceps.
By now, his body matched those who'd been hitting the gym for years—lean and fit, not bulky or pumped up on steroids.
'So, this is the infamous gym rat effect.'
In movies, there was always that one guy who got all the girls just by showing off his shredded body. Now, he was experiencing it firsthand.
"My name's Terrence Marshall," he responded.
Her eyes glinted playfully as she smiled.
"*******," she said softly, her Russian accent wrapping around her tongue.
"What was that?" he asked, not understanding a word—but it sounded very sexy.
Slowly, she walked closer to him.
"I said, I want to be your gym friend. So, can I have your number?"
Terrence hesitated a bit, but the warmth in her eyes made the decision easy.
"Sure," he said, pulling out his phone. "I'd like that."
She smiled, handing him her number with a playful wink.
"Hope you're not the type to tap out early. Gym first, maybe a late snack after?"
Her scent drifted to him—fresh and intoxicating despite the sweat pouring from her shoulders.
"Tomorrow. Same time?" She let the question linger, like she already knew the answer.
"Sure,"
He was about to say more, but she turned, glanced over her shoulder, and said she would text him before walking away.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Terrence scratched his head and looked away. It was like being offered delicious food but having to wait to eat it.
Tonight, he would be dreaming of her.
'She's really something.'
There were plenty of women around, each with a different personality—and not indulging in them before the apocalypse would feel like a real shame.
But for now, he would let her go. It wouldn't do to come across as too aggressive.
'Speaking of which, I should send her a message,' he thought, as another name popped into his mind—Celine, his high school bully.
'It's a bit late to DM her now, but she's probably still awake,' he pulled out his phone and searched for her profile.
She has 400K followers—proof of the power that came with being born a natural beauty.
If he just messaged her like any regular guy, he would likely get ignored—just another name in her overflowing inbox.
So, he held back.
'I should level myself up a bit first,'
A smile formed on his lips after he remembered the cash just sitting in his digital account, untouched and waiting to be put to good use.
In games, leveling up meant grinding and pumping stats into strength or agility.
But in real life, the fastest way to level up in the eyes of others was simple—own expensive things.
And what could make a louder statement than driving a supercar?
'Good thing I already have my license. Now I can finally get a car. Paying Saul that money is already starting to pay off,'
Without that shrewd attorney's connections, it would've taken him ages to get his license.
He didn't even notice when he got back to the apartment.
The lights were off, and Effie was already asleep.
'I've been busy the past few days. I should do something nice for her,'
He felt guilty, perhaps because his mind was drifting toward other women now.
She said it was fine, that she wouldn't mind.
But deep down, he wondered if those words truly reflected her feelings.
'No point overthinking. She said it's fine, so it must be.'