Anti-cake Dungeon Delving! (BL)

Leander stared at his Adventurer's Guild results. He had passed the physicals, but only by the skin of his teeth. He was ranked F, and he knew that, had he not been an ok healer, he wouldn't have even made the cut.

It was all due to, well, his chubbiness. He was overweight, some might even say bordering obese. Honestly, with his penchant for being a bookworm who could memorize almost anything, he should have tried to become a clinic healer, rather than an adventurer.

But Leander wanted more from life than to just sit in a clinic. He wanted to see the creatures that made up the super continent of Fluia. 

To see the savanna of lower Alcandino. The wetlands of Odolia. And, of course, the heart of the world. The glacier that sat in the middle of the continent was claimed by no country, but, rather, by the necromancer Asmodeos.

But with the rank of F, he would be lucky if people let him paint their fences. He didn't have much hope as he went and placed his name down in the register.

He, as was his wont every time he felt depressed, went to the nearest fried banana store, and bought one, with a generous serving of whipped cream and white chocolate syrup on top.

As he ate, he looked at the surrounding adventurers. They were so thin and confident. Why couldn't he be like them? He had big bones, which was what his mother always told him. She was on the chubby side, too. It had never bothered her.

But it was ok for a chef to be chubby, not for an adventurer. Leander finished his fried banana and went to clean his hands and face at a nearby faucet.

There, on the wall behind the faucet, was a poster.

Do you feel like you always carry weights around with you?

Do you want to change?

Well, change starts with you!

You have to choose: Cake or happiness!

Do the exercise in the pictures and lower your sugar intake.

There was a drawing of someone who seemed to be running in place without lifting his feet. Leander squinted at the pictures. There was a fine print below them.

For maximum effect, repeat for thirty minutes, six days a week. Give yourself a rest on the seventh day. Or, instead of building muscles, you will be tearing them up without rebuilding them afterwards.

Thirty minutes? Leander rubbed his chin. He could do thirty minutes, he hoped. That sounded like nothing! He placed his feet a bit away from each other, like how the person in the poster was placing them, put his hands on his hips, and began slowly walking in place.

All the while, Leander stared at the poster. He had no idea what to think about in these thirty minutes, so, he began to count. When he reached the ten-minute mark, he felt like his kneecaps were going to break.

Leander looked at that fateful sentence.

You have to choose: Cake or happiness!

With a huff, Leander persevered. He felt his fat jiggle, and he felt embarrassed, but didn't stop. People stopped to watch him, some even pointed, and a couple laughed, but he gritted his teeth and kept on going.

When the thirty minutes passed, Leander propped himself on the faucet and breathed heavily. This was bad. If he couldn't even run in place for more than thirty minutes, how was he going to go from dungeon to dungeon?

With a determined expression, Leander slowly began to walk around Huergaz. The capital city of Alcandino offered many sights, but Leander had no interest in them.

He was focusing so hard on putting one foot over the other that he didn't notice when his feet had taken him to the library. He was about to berate himself, for, surely, he should be walking more and not wanting to go inside. But then he had a thought.

What if the poster had suggested thirty minutes of exercise because more would have caused him damage? Well, in that case, he simply couldn't sit idle.

If he couldn't hone his muscles, as little of them as he had, then he was going to hone his mind. He entered and showed his Alcandino multi-library card to the librarian, and he went straight for the nutrition section.

He browsed through the books, looking for something that sounded reasonable.

How to have your cake and eat it too!

Yeah, right. It was because Leander had had plenty of cake and ate it that he was now with burning knees.

Bread: the brain's silent killer.

Well, the only thing with flour Leander ate was fried banana, so, the book was useless for him.

Paleo diet.

Oh, no! Hell no! No diets. They made him fatter. He passed by the diet book section with a frown.

How to build muscle.

He stopped. This was promising, but what was it doing in the nutrition section? Had someone misplaced it? Leander took the book and sat down to read.

You already have a six-pack.

The book began and Leander was just about to put it down, appalled that a book was making fun of him, when he decided to continue to read on.

But it is buried under tons of fat. If you didn't have the muscles that make up the six-pack, you wouldn't even be able to walk.

Well, that sounded reasonable to Leander. He decided to give the book a chance after all.

The purpose of this forty-page book is to bring out your six-pack to the surface and do away with the fat. You will need to pour your sweat, desperation, and tears into the teachings I offer. But, by the end of the year, you will be able to get in clothes that you wore five, or, in some cases, ten years ago.

Leander scratched his head. Was it possible? Hm, forty pages was nothing, just like thirty minutes were nothing. So, as any being on Fluia and the universe in general, Leander put in the minimal among of effort.

 In his case, it was enough.