Sweat Doesn't Betray (1)
The night in a rural village where deep darkness had settled was usually quiet. Even the mountain birds and insects had fallen silent.
“Hup, two! Hup, two! Do you want a slim figure!”
An oddly cheerful voice echoed from the small cabin.
“If······ sleep······ won’t come······ and your body······ feels heavy······ then······!”
Another sleepless night. Staring out at the quiet window while sipping warm tea and contemplating his inner self was simply impossible for Patrick, who had lived as a 21st-century modern man. Unable to distinguish meditation from zoning out, he found it incredibly difficult to pass a night without Netflix or YouTube.
“I should’ve saved it if I knew it would come to this!”
He had already read most of the interesting parts of The Chronicles of the Empire’s Noble Houses, which had kept him occupied for a while. The only reason he was exercising in the middle of the night was because there was nothing else he could do.
“It’s actually a good thing. I was starting to notice my stomach getting a bit soft anyway.”
When he first started working the fields, the weight had melted off quickly, but it seemed his unhelpful body had already adapted to that level of labor. Maybe it was because he’d been eating dinner at the Village Hall every evening with a drink on the side.
“They say beer bellies are the hardest to lose.”
These days, his arms and legs were still skinny, but his lower belly was beginning to protrude. He had already been thinking it was time to start exercising, though he hadn’t expected it to happen tonight.
Normally, he wouldn’t have thrown himself into something so productive with such enthusiasm, but Patrick was in a rather desperate situation.
“I should’ve ordered them with more room to begin with!”
Trembling, he struggled through ten push-ups, his eyes landing on the neatly folded silk pajamas on the bed.
— What’s this? Why is it like this?
The silk pajamas Josh had made first after Patrick nagged him endlessly! They had seemed like the perfect match for his bed. The problem was—
— Hiss—
Without an elastic band, they felt terribly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, this world had no elastic bands capable of stretching several inches with ease.
— Is there anything similar?
— Something that stretches but returns to its original shape······ Monster tendons would be best, of course. But anything usable as clothing material is just too expensive······
— Tch. He couldn’t exactly wear a belt with pajamas, so he’d had them tailored to his then-current physique. Who would’ve thought it would come back to bite him like this?
“It’s not my fault. It’s this damn body’s fault for being so scrawny back then.”
After barely scraping by on meager meals at the Magic Tower and then being demoted from wizard to criminal in an instant, he had only grown thinner. Now that he finally had the chance to gain weight, he’d foolishly ordered ten outfits at once out of greed for new clothes. Having to fit his body to the clothes was entirely his own doing.
“No, I can just lose it again!”
Thinking about it, wasn’t this the perfect situation for dieting? ‘There’s no instant food, no delivery. Even if I eat whatever’s available, it’s all natural, so the weight should come off fast, right?’
Thus began the “fit my body to the clothes” project.
“Teacher? What brings you here?”
“I’m planning to start exercising again from today. Is that all right?”
“Of course! The elders will be delighted.”
The next morning, Patrick, who had barely slept a few hours due to insomnia, trudged down the hill and arrived at the Village Hall. He had come early, on an empty stomach after drinking only a glass of water, to join the morning exercises.
“Hoho. It’s been a while, Mr. Wizard.”
Halmae’s back seemed a little straighter than before.
“Would you like to try some? I baked these cookies last night.”
“Ah, I’m fine. I don’t have much of an appetite in the morning.”
“Is that so? Then there’s nothing to be done.”
His resolve wavered briefly at the elders’ kind offer of snacks before their workout, but he held firm. ‘I’m the type who follows through once I set my mind to it.’ Even though the cookies and scones looked mouthwateringly delicious, he told himself, ‘Get a grip! Are you really going to leave that tailcoat you’ve never even worn as mere decoration?’ Trapped on an island yet ordering party clothes was already extravagant enough—snacks were a luxury.
“All right, let’s begin. Warm-up exercises, start!”
The morning exercises had changed quite a bit from before.
‘What’s that flute for?’
Halmae’s son, who led the session, held a flute about the size of a hand span, using it to make squeaking sounds that seemed to keep the rhythm of the commands.
“H-huh······?”
“Hoho. Where are you going to use a body that stiff?”
“Your body’s stiffer than an old person’s, what are we going to do with you?”
The military calisthenics he had originally taught had been modified. As the elders’ physical condition improved, they had introduced small tools like sandbags and bamboo poles. The problem was that using these tools put even more strain on the joints and muscles throughout the body!
“Aigoo, Teacher. You need to go down a bit more. Hup—!”
“Aaaagh!”
Halmae’s son had come down from the platform to correct his posture directly when he couldn’t bear to watch the stiff movements any longer, and each time, a scream inevitably burst out.
“······Mr. Wizard, are you hurt somewhere?”
“Exactly. You’re still young······”
The adults, who had initially found his awkward posture and dramatic reactions amusing like watching grandchildren play, began to worry as the screams continued without end.
“I’ve heard before that wizards are all as stiff as dry firewood and have no vitality. It’s true.”
“He seemed fine yesterday when he was going around making that kimchi or whatever it was.”
“Really? Then maybe it’s not an injury?”
How had he ended up with a physique that even the village elders were worried about?
“······You really should come consistently from now on.”
“······Yes······”
The instructor, realizing this wasn’t a problem that could be fixed with a quick posture correction, patted his shoulder with a pitying look.
‘Was I really this bad?’
Patrick was just as shocked. No matter how weak his body was, how could it be worse than the elders’? And he was in his twenties, in his prime!
“Teacher, are you really leaving without breakfast? At least take something with you!”
“I-I’m fine. I don’t have an appetite······”
After what felt like an eternity, the workout finally ended. Ignoring the elders calling him back to eat breakfast, Patrick dragged his trembling legs away.
“Since I exercised on an empty stomach, if I hold out until lunch without eating, it’s basically intermittent fasting.”
That should help the belly fat come off. Maybe the pajamas would fit tonight?
“I have no energy.”
Having sweated profusely, Patrick flopped onto the floor instead of climbing into bed. He scolded his foolish self for starting a diet right after making kimchi, while another part of him argued that there was no special day for dieting anyway.
“I’ll cheat when the rice arrives.”
Just let it come. Fried rice, gimbap, rice balls······ He’d throw a full-on carbohydrate party.
“Ah, right.”
Still feeling drained, his body heavy as lead, he remembered the medicine Ben had secretly given him yesterday.
— They say it’s good when you’re tired.
— One pill a day.
A small bottle containing about a dozen tiny pills.
“A fatigue recovery medicine would be good. Nutritional supplements would be even better. I heard you’re supposed to take supplements when dieting.”
Thanks to his mother and sister, who spent ten months out of the year dieting and buying all sorts of products, Patrick was quite knowledgeable about the theory. Gulp. Since Ben’s father had said he shared them with his friends, it probably wasn’t something with serious side effects or meant only for specific conditions.
‘I’m not the kind of idiot who takes other people’s medicine without thinking.’
Considering it a fairly rational and reasonable decision, Patrick swallowed the pill without hesitation. Somehow, he already felt healthier.
“Kids.”
“Yeah?”
“Teacher seems a bit different, doesn’t he?”
Patrick’s diet had already lasted over five days. While the children whispered among themselves, perhaps noticing the change, Patrick focused on picking vegetables in the field for lunch, though his attention kept drifting to the children gathered on the wooden platform.
“Yeah, he does seem different from before······”
“Ah! I got it!”
“What? What is it?”
The girls definitely had sharper eyes—Amy and Elina clapped their hands in delight.
“Teacher’s face looks a bit rounder!”
“Right! His clothes look a little tighter too!”
“Hahaha! You got it, you got it!”
Thud. Wait, what did they just say? The unexpected answer made Patrick drop his basket. An innocent pumpkin rolled across the dirt.
‘Not that his physique got bigger from exercise?’
He had noticed the clothes feeling a bit snug. But just hours ago, he had been happily assuming it was muscle from doing calisthenics at the Village Hall every morning······?
‘Then the puffy face I saw in the morning wasn’t just swelling?’
Startled, Patrick abandoned the basket and rushed home, pulling out a small mirror to examine his face from every angle.
“······It’s true.”
“What’s wrong, Teacher? Is something the matter?”
The children tilted their heads in confusion at their teacher, who had suddenly started hopping around before sitting on the floor with a shocked expression.
“Kids.”
“Yes?”
“Do I have to be honest?”
“Yes!”
“······Have I gained weight?”
“Yes!”
“Of course!”
“Obviously!”
“······”
The bright, unhesitating answers came as if they had been waiting for the question.
‘I should’ve ordered a full-length mirror when I had the money······!’
Regretting it now was pointless, but Patrick needed an excuse.
“Teacher only had his face as a good point, and now even that’s about to disappear, huh?”
“Yeah. If he keeps gaining weight like this, I’m not marrying Teacher when I grow up.”
“Me too!”
“Who said I was marrying any of you?!”
“Wahahaha!”
The children fanned the flames of the burning house with their own made-up stories, completely ignoring the person who would actually be giving the rice cake. Pinch— In disbelief, Patrick gave his lower belly a little squeeze.
“······?!”
The reality he didn’t want to accept was right there.
“······I worked so hard, so why?”
No, five days should make losing weight difficult, but gaining it should be just as hard, shouldn’t it? It was ambiguous. It wasn’t five months, or even five weeks—just five days. And during those five days, he had exercised, watched what he ate, and even quit drinking.
“So why on earth······?”
If it were muscle, he would have welcomed it with open arms, but the reflection in the mirror was definitely not the result of increased muscle mass.
“Ben!”
“Yes?”
Spotting the pills, Patrick leaned halfway out the window and called for Ben on a hunch.
“What kind of medicine is this?”
“Ah, that? It’s what my dad takes when he’s tired!”
“It really is a fatigue recovery medicine?”
“A fatigue recovery medicine? No? It’s a weight gain medicine.”