Gym Beginner?

Seo Joo-hwan finished his meal and headed home. The old house, both unfamiliar and familiar, welcomed him back. As soon as he entered his room, he turned on the computer.

"This thing's pretty ancient."

It let out a loud whirring hum as it booted up. His parents had bought it before opening the snack bar, so it was at least five years old—an outdated relic.

"This must be around the time Min Byeong-gyu was bragging about his stocks."

Min Byeong-gyu was a fellow soldier on leave with him today, a self-proclaimed stock guru.

"Stock guru, my ass."

What he did was closer to gambling than investing. He didn't study stocks, research info, or even have basic knowledge of financial statements or company data. He just threw money at rumors he'd picked up somewhere—what else could you call that but gambling? Whenever he made a quick buck, he'd buy snacks for his buddies and boast. But when he tanked hard, he'd sulk all day, his mood swings so extreme that some soldiers treated him like a total pain in the ass. Even now as a sergeant, Min Byeong-gyu's bragging ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hadn't stopped. Especially around this time, when a new investment of his had exploded, making him insufferably cocky.

That jackpot wasn't a regular stock—it was cryptocurrency, specifically Bitcoin.

"Let's see... the coin that mooned..."

Seo Joo-hwan poked around sites until he found it.

"Ah, there it is. Cloud Moon."

"What the hell... is this for real?"

A 60% drop from the previous day. He knew crypto was more volatile than stocks, but seeing the numbers hit him like a truck. Switching tabs to daily charts, it had been plummeting at a ferocious pace for nearly a week.

"Whew. Time to buy in."

Seo Joo-hwan's seed money was 20 million won—earnings from writing before enlistment, plus his military savings. Calming his pounding heart, he bought 10 million won worth of coins first. He'd use the rest later if it dipped more.

Cloud Moon was in freefall right now, but from his memory, it would bottom out around then and rocket back up like it was punching through the ceiling.

"Man, how do other people even do this?"

Even knowing the future rebound, he couldn't shake the worry of losing it all. And people dumping huge sums with zero info? Insane.

"Min Byeong-gyu got totally rekt around now, right?"

Originally, Cloud Moon was Min Byeong-gyu's coin. But he'd been stuck in winter training without site access, and by leave, it had crashed so hard he panic-sold at a massive loss. Then it mooned endlessly after, leaving him stomping in regret. Whatever—none of his business now.

*

Day three of leave.

"Time flies out here."

The pace felt worlds apart from base life. Military time definitely crawled slower outside. No other explanation for the gap. No wonder they called it a mental and temporal prison.

"Hope it's mooning nicely."

Two days ago, he'd dumped the remaining 10 million and sworn off checking the site. He'd peeked once to confirm the timeline, but stumbled into the community and saw people losing their minds.

The crypto community was full of people beyond normal logic. They'd lost anywhere from millions to tens of millions yet posted memes and jokes. Some posts screamed genuine suicide risk. Staring too long felt like it'd warp his own mind—it was eerily entertaining. He hadn't touched the site since.

"Time for the gym."

Seo Joo-hwan grabbed his workout clothes and headed out. Ten minutes from home was the gym he'd signed up for: Ribbon Fitness. "Ribbon" meant "reborn" through training. Perfect name—he'd chosen it for his second life.

'Not just that reason, though.'

He cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped inside.

"Hup! Hup!"

"Ahh, post-workout protein hits different."

"Hey, quit slacking—muscle loss incoming."

Even on a weekday afternoon, the place buzzed. Especially the free weight zone, packed with ripped dudes flexing. The heat was intense.

"Good call signing up here."

Plenty of people, but ample space and gear variety. Workouts needed seamless flow—no good if you paused waiting for equipment.

Beep.

He scanned his card, changed in the locker room, and scanned the floor for a routine. That's when his eyes met a woman's. She smiled, dimples flashing, and approached.

"You're early, member-nim."

"Ah, Trainer Im Su-hee. Hi."

"Oh, you remember my name?"

"Haha, I'm good with names."

Im Su-hee was unforgettable. Long, toned legs, firm hips, C-cup chest—her sculpted body oozed sensuality.

Seo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Joo-hwan checked her floating status window.

With the fully unlocked system, light contact revealed status windows, plus top talents. Same-rank multiples showed four or more.

'Musclephilia and Sthenolagnia... hardcore muscle fetish.'

Musclephilia favored quality muscle; Sthenolagnia thrilled at flexing or seeing it. Similar but distinct—key point: she loved muscle.

Noticing his distraction, Im Su-hee tilted her head.

"Everything okay, member-nim?"

"Y-yeah? Yes."

"You zoned out—I thought you were hurt."

"All good. Can't get sick if I'm here to get healthy."

"Hoho, true. Want some help?"

"Pardon?"

Her sudden kindness puzzled him. Why interest in his flabby self? Her next words cleared it up.

"You know I'm the owner, right?"

"Owner? You look so young—I thought just trainer."

"Hoho, thanks. Anyway, for new members, I offer free intro sessions to build membership. Meant to do it day one, but was busy."

"Ah, another trainer showed basics—machine use, form direction."

"That's just a teaser. I'll give you a full hour PT—free trial."

He blinked, sensing odd obsession in her tone. But shrugged it off as imagination.

"Sure, thanks."

"Smart choice."

He'd been eyeing PT during Helchang's Blessing, but price deterred him. Free trial? Tempting.

The session began.

'Whoa, her chest...'

Spotting meant contact. He reacted sharply—Jeong So-ra had ended his dry spell, but women were still alien. Thoughts vanished fast.

Her gentle face hid strict coaching. Groans poured from him nonstop.

"Urgh! S-Su-hee s-sensei, too hard..."

"No, you can do more. You won't die."

"What if I get hurt..."

"Don't worry. Not at this level. I've got bio level 1 certs, rehab quals, competition wins. Trust me fully."

Why mention rehab? Offer post-injury help? Gasping to his limit, he followed till the end. Over an hour later, it wrapped. Body wrecked, he collapsed like a corpse.

Three days passed like that. She'd promised one-hour service, but pushed free PT daily with flimsy excuses. Today, he was floored again.

Im Su-hee stared confusedly at him.

'Insane muscles. Thought he'd fail, but nails every rep. Feels the stimulus perfectly.'

Beginners mimicked form sloppily, missing muscle nuance due to underdevelopment. But Seo Joo-hwan? Beginner body, expert precision, absorbed like relearning.

'Recovery speed's the craziest.'

Muscle growth: damage-recovery cycle. Workouts tear fibers; healing makes them thicker. Splits systematize this.

But his was freakish. Three days hammered full body—chest, shoulders, triceps, back, biceps, quads, calves—yet next day, fine.

Unreal, even across groups. Full-body daily? He'd recover.

System blessings, of course—but she didn't know. Her misconception grew.

'My eye was right.'

Flab now, but start serious? He'd balloon fast. Her excuses? She'd spotted potential early.

She was convinced: born gym rat. Her gaze burned hot.

"Member—no, Joo-hwan-ssi."

"Yes?"

"Proper PT? I'll discount heavy."

*

Seo Joo-hwan dragged his exhausted body home.

'Signed up for 30 sessions on impulse.'

No regrets—30% off made it 50k per, a steal. And she'd PT personally.

Many pretty trainers faked knowledge; she was legit—competition wins, proven PT success.

Her skill? Proven body-wide last three days.

"Lucy, InBody scan please."

Solid results. Road ahead long, but absurd efficiency meant quick goals. Keep this up? Buff city soon.

Home, he booted the PC. Wanted to crash, but work called.

"Let's go. Lucy, Concentration's Blessing today—four hours."

His view narrowed, monitor zoomed. Slack mind sharpened, brain firing on all cylinders.

Time to write.