The 100kg Revelation
How much time had passed since his complete body overhaul? The state-of-the-art weight machines and sparring mats at the A-rank Secret Training Facility hadn't seen a dry day. To ease the boredom during training, the installed TV blared with the urgent voice of a news anchor.
The screen switched, showing Detroit's devastation under a dome of crimson magnetic storm. Tons of scrap metal swirled in the sky, threatening to shred anything that approached.
A kill order would have let the S-rank heroes crush it ages ago. But petty schemes to weaponize an S-rank villain's powers had shackled the heroes with sandbags on their ankles.
The screen shifted to an SNS controversy segment, roughly playing footage of Rapidstar, dust-covered and twisted in rage.
"Why the hell capture villains?! Do you know how many Magnet Floyd has killed? 752 civilians, 58 police and firefighters, 5 heroes! Villain scum should be slaughtered on sight, no questions asked! Did they drag us here to capture him?!"
Rapidstar bellowed at the camera, veins bulging.
Ohoo glanced at it from the training corner, wiping sweat from his neck with a towel.
'He must be losing his mind. He wants to kill it now and rush back to Korea to mold Eunbyeol his way, but the Americans have him by the throat.'
Rapidstar's boiling fury and frustration bled through the screen vividly. Even as an S-rank hero with kill authority, he couldn't ignore Korea-US politics. He had no choice but to endure the delays.
'His convictions are rock-solid, though.'
Those extreme kill-all-villains words weren't just frustration from being tied down over Eunbyeol. They reeked of Rapidstar's primal, violent sense of justice.
A few days back, during a bloody training break, Last Moment had casually mentioned it while sipping water.
"Rapidstar's dictionary has no 'capture.' Only unconditional kills. Up to A-rank, capture's priority, but S-rank heroes get extraterritorial kill rights anywhere in the world."
Last Moment wiped Miyang's sweat with a towel, smiling bitterly. "When the international body first picked S-rank heroes, plenty of named ones refused. Some didn't want the hassle of saving foreigners with their shaky justice... others were too just, scared of the near-murder license it handed them."
She tossed the towel into the bin. "But Rapidstar accepted without hesitation. 'Finally, I can kill villain scum without legal bullshit.' Scary... but maybe a blessing in this mad world?"
Recalling Last Moment's personal take, Ohoo wiped his face.
'Yeah, he's a creepy, sleazy pervert old man. Makes my skin crawl.'
Plus, no matter how much of a bitch Park Ayoung was, what he did to his own daughter. His unnatural obsession with Eunbyeol, wearing his disciple's shadow. Brain wasn't wired right.
'Still... that conviction's got hero steel in it.'
Ohoo somewhat got Rapidstar's radical justice. Give villains law and mercy for reform? Ideal. But not reality, so it's just ideal. If that ideal demands more needless deaths in reality, what's it worth?
Of course.
'Overthinking. Training plateau messing with me?'
The world's noise and an S-rank hero's iron beliefs weren't priorities now. One key fact: Rapidstar's return delayed.
Beep. Ohoo flicked off the holographic news.
Ignoring global politics, he turned his eyes. Harsh breaths and impacts echoed nonstop from the sparring mat.
"Hah, hah...! Haaa!"
Han Eunbyeol and Miyang sparred purely with body techniques, abilities sealed.
"Too sloooow! I can see your attack paths, nyang!"
Thud, smack! Miyang dodged Eunbyeol's punches with annoyingly casual steps, landing light hits to her side and jaw.
Thwack!
"Ugh...!"
Eunbyeol staggered back, enduring pain. Fierce tenacity burned in her clear eyes, desperate to hold on and win. But the physical gap was insurmountable.
Miyang was a heteromorph—cat beastkin. Even sealed, her dynamic vision and reflexes far outstripped humans. Add street-honed combat experience, and it was no surprise the self-taught orphan from the slums, never near a hero academy, got one-sidedly pushed.
"Haa... haa... One more!"
Eunbyeol gritted her teeth, sweat pouring, resetting her stance without wiping.
"Fiiine. Gotta give you props for grit, nyang!"
As they clashed again, Last Moment, sucking a protein shake atop the vaulting box, barked sharply.
"Hey, Han Eunbyeol! Chin up, guard straight! Miyang's going easy, so it doesn't hurt? In real combat, a villain's steel pipe like that snaps your jaw—you're on baby food for life!"
Her brutal feedback boomed through the gym.
"Grit those teeth! Muscles tear, bones break—I'll fix 'em! Your limits are way beyond what you think! The guy who throws one more punch when he's about to die survives the streets!"
Under the infamous B-rank instructor's merciless regimen, Eunbyeol struggled through basic techniques and reflex limit tests.
Turning from the savage scene, Ohoo silently approached the high-tech InBody scanner in the corner.
Beep.
Ohoo stepped off the platform, glaring at his stats on the monitor.
"......."
The display read roughly 100kg. A tongue-click escaped him.
"Still hovering at 100kg."
He slung the towel irritably.
'Weight loss stalled for sure. Plateau? Same as a few days ago, not even 100g off. No progress.'
This A-rank Secret Training Facility courtesy of Park Ayoung. Using the healer's powers for endless tear-and-repair cycles that'd break any normie in a day. Sleep? Unavoidable post-training. Diet? Protein and essentials only, appetite and pain crushed by hypnosis app commands. He'd endured like a machine.
Early on, his near-120kg pig gut melted away. But it hit the 100kg wall—no budge, not a gram.
"Haa... Double the volume? Reset the commands?"
Obsessed with the scale number, he whipped himself relentlessly.
Staring daggers at the screen, dissatisfied—
"Hey, pig."
Last Moment's lazy voice from behind.
"Even with my brutal training, you're still amateur hour. Brain's just a scale readout?"
"Instructor."
Turning, Ohoo saw her with a shake bottle, standing pigeon-toed in pity.
"Just numbers? Pissed 'cause weight's stuck? Come here."
She smacked his broad back, dragging him to the wall-spanning mirror.
"Strip."
Ohoo hesitated before the mirror. Complex lingering over his fat frame—undressing in front of someone, especially lit up like this, sucked.
But her sharp glare won. He grabbed the hem of his sweat-soaked gray tee and yanked it off.
"......Huh?"
A dumb sound slipped out. Eyes widening at his reflection.
Not the post-possession bathroom mirror pig—sagging jowls, pregnant-belly gut jiggling grotesquely.
The fat voids filled with crude, solid masses. Shoulders 1.5x broader than pre-training. Traps thickly peaked from neck to shoulders. Bloated belly gone; thick core and hefty ribcage prominent. Movie-star action frame, crystal clear.
Last Moment tapped his thick forearm, grinning.
"Think I'd just treadmill you to skin and bones? My method doesn't leave skeletons."
Admiring her handiwork, she explained. "Tens of thousands of fiber tears, forced rebuilds with my power—dozens daily. Supercompensation packed high-density muscle into fat's place. Muscle's way denser than fat per volume. No wonder 100kg sticks."
Pride gleamed in her eyes.
"Same 100kg, but jiggly pig version equals this packed muscle? Looks way better. Intimidating as hell."
True. Her reverse-heal hellfire hadn't just burned fat—it rebuilt him into thick, destructive muscle.
'Pro's a pro. My solo knee-busting bullshit feels retarded now.'
Ohoo ran a hand over his slab-like pecs. Rock-hard pump tingled his fingers.
Sensing the miraculous change, a faint smile tugged his lips—
"Kyaa! Maaaster Ohooo~!"
Miyang spotted them, ditching Eunbyeol mid-spar, tail wagging furiously as she scampered over.
"Heeeek...! M-Master's body... insaaane, nyang!"
Eyes popping at shirtless Ohoo, she went full drama. Zeroing on his thick pecs and ripped abs, hands groped lewdly.
"Wooow! So haaard! Master, this stone?! Crazzy, nyang!"
Bouncing like she'd won the world.
"I toold you during sex yesterday, Master! As fat melts, you get waaay, suuuper hotter! Why trust numbers over Miyang's eyes?!"
Joy at her beloved master's daily glow-up, pride her vision was spot-on, flooded her voice.