Chapter 11: Finishing Workout

Damon's legs trembled as he lowered himself into the fifth squat, his thin thighs straining to support his body.

He felt the familiar burn in his quadriceps and hamstrings, the muscles screaming in protest as he descended further.

His knees creaked softly, the sound echoing through the quiet alley like a faint whisper.

As he reached the bottom of the squat, Damon's balance wavered, his body swaying precariously to one side.

He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched in determination, and forced himself to steady.

His arms extended in front of him, his hands splayed wide, as he struggled to maintain control.

He felt the rough texture of the pavement beneath him, the slight grittiness of the asphalt digging into his skin through his thin pants.

Sweat dripped down his face, the salty liquid stinging his eyes, but he refused to blink.

Damon knew the last rep would be the hardest.

So he didn't delay, didn't hesitate. He dropped down, his body sinking into the squat like a stone.

His muscles screamed in agony, the pain intensifying as he reached the bottom.

He felt the strain in his legs, the burn spreading through his muscles like wildfire. His knees creaked again, the sound louder this time, as he struggled to rise.

Damon's arms trembled, his hands shaking, as he pushed himself up, his body slowly ascending from the squat.

Finally, he stood, his legs trembling beneath him, his body swaying slightly.

He rested for some time. He didn't know how far midnight was, he hoped not too far.

He opened the tab again to recheck what was next, the blue holographic screen appeared in front of him.

"Saturday

- 10 minutes jog (COMPLETED)

- 10 push-ups, sit-ups, squats. (COMPLETED)

- Shadow boxing 3 rounds of 3 minutes each.

- Basic strikes (punches, elbows, knees, and kicks)"

Damon's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the holographic screen, his mind racing with questions.

What was shadow boxing? He had never heard of it before.

Was it some sort of martial arts technique? He tried pressing on the option, hoping to find an explanation.

The screen flickered, and a new window opened, displaying a detailed description of shadow boxing. Damon's eyes scanned the text, his brow furrowed in concentration.

[Shadow boxing is a training method used to practice hand-eye coordination, footwork, and punching technique,It involves throwing punches at an imaginary opponent, mimicking the movements of a real fight.]

Damon's gaze lingered on the words, his mind struggling to comprehend the concept.

He had never practiced anything like this before. He only knew of physical labor, not imaginary fights.

Damon's thoughts returned to the task at hand. He had to complete the shadow boxing exercise. But how? He had no experience, no guidance.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. He would have to figure it out himself.

Damon raised his fists, his arms trembling slightly. He began to throw punches, his movements awkward and uncoordinated.

The sound of his fists slicing through the air echoed through the alley, a soft whooshing noise that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

Damon's eyes darted back and forth, his gaze fixed on some invisible opponent.

He threw another punch, his arm extending in front of him. His hand trembled, his fingers splayed wide.

Damon's movements were slow and clumsy, but he persisted. He threw punch after punch, his arms aching with fatigue.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Damon's breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving with exertion.

Finally, the first round was over. Damon lowered his arms, his fists still clenched. He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the screen.

Two more rounds to go.

He steeled himself, his mind focused on the task ahead. He would complete the shadow boxing exercise, no matter how difficult it seemed.

Eight minutes had passed, and Damon had completed two more shadow spars of three minutes each.

He stood up, his tired smirk still plastered on his face, and gazed at the panel again.

His blue eyes sparkled with a hint of determination.

The system message appeared, and Damon's eyes scanned the text.

[Muay Thai is the art of Eight Limbs]

[Fists: Traditional boxing punches such as the jab, cross, hook, and uppercut.

Elbows: Elbow strikes that can be used in close-range combat.

Knees: Knee strikes, often used in clinch fighting.

Shins: Kicks delivered with the shin, including roundhouse kicks, teep (push kicks), and low kicks.]

Damon understood what he had to do. He would train each limb, just like he did during shadow fighting, but with a specific goal in mind.

He decided to set a goal for himself: 100 strikes for each limb. He smiled, confident he could do it. After all, he had nothing to lose - except for his life, if he failed.

Damon started with the fists. He threw a jab, the punch slicing through the air with a soft whooshing noise.

He followed it with a cross, the movement smooth and fluid. His eyes focused on an invisible target, his gaze fixed intently. He threw hook after hook, his arms aching with fatigue.

As he reached 50 jabs, Damon's arms began to tremble. His breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving with exertion.

But he persisted, his mind fixed on the goal. He completed the 100 jabs, his arms dropping to his sides. He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the screen.

Next were the elbows. Damon raised his arms, his elbows bent at a 90-degree angle. He struck the air with his elbow, the movement swift and precise.

The sound of his elbow striking the air was different from his fists, a sharper, more muted noise.