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“Hmm,” Tsulak critically assessed the girl. “She’s too skinny! Her shoulders are hunched, her back is curved, she has twig-like arms, and a figure that resembles those of nerdy intellectuals – in other words, nothing special. But don’t be sad! Just last week, I myself was a weakling, a disgrace to wrestlers. And now look!” he slapped his oiled chest. “The key is proper nutrition, strength training, and cardio so your heart doesn’t give out. Stick to the regimen, and soon you’ll be able to crush the heads of homeless people with your thighs like overripe watermelons. Well, come on, let me show you.” He waved his hand towards the exercise machines.
— Thank you for your concern,” the girl smiled. — By the way, my name is Ida.
Ida followed the fighter toward the exercise machines and began performing exercises under his guidance. The workout was intense, very painful; the girl sighed, groaned, almost cried, but the trainer was deaf to her pleas. On the contrary, he pushed her to arch her back, not stick her butt out, not make sudden movements, and even if she couldn’t take it anymore, not lie down flat. Not because Tsulak was a bad person, quite the opposite, because he knew how to do things right and that if it’s hard now, it means the muscles will be better in the future. In general, yesterday’s weakling was already doing his job like a real professional, no more, no less.
Okay, consider this training complete, here's some experience points.
