The lingering warmth of breakfast settled in Jisoo’s stomach as he set his chopsticks down. His mother’s voice wove through the air, chatting with Nari about school—soft, ordinary, untouched by the weight of the future. For a fleeting moment, he let himself soak in the illusion of normalcy.
But normal wouldn’t last.
He excused himself from the table, pushing his chair back with careful movements. His mother glanced at him, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "Jisoo, are you feeling alright?"
He forced a small smile. "Yeah, I just… have a lot to think about."
She nodded but didn’t press further. He gave Nari a small ruffle on the head before heading to his room. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, his expression turned serious.
Sitting at his desk, Jisoo exhaled slowly. I need a plan.
His mind raced through possibilities, but without access to his notebook’s information, he felt like he was grasping at straws. The frustration gnawed at him. He vaguely recalled certain stocks and business opportunities that would explode in value, but they required capital—money he didn’t have right now.
That left him with two immediate goals:
- Find a way to earn money.
- Begin some kind of training.
His body was weak—too weak. Stamina had to be the priority. If he wanted to survive the chaos ahead, he couldn’t afford to let exhaustion be his downfall again. The last time, he had suffered because he had below-average endurance and strength, even for someone unawakened. That wouldn’t happen again.
After thinking and searching for a bit, Jisoo came up with his training routine, structuring his plan to build endurance and strength.
- Morning: Cardio (running, endurance drills)
- Afternoon: Strength training (bodyweight, resistance exercises)
- Evening: Flexibility and mobility (stretching, controlled movements)
- Diet: Cut out junk, focus on protein, complex carbs, and hydration
It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Even a weak foundation was better than none.
Now for the next step.
He needed something that paid decently and gave him enough time to train. He scrolled through job listings, calling every potential employer. Most turned him away—either the hours didn’t fit, or they wanted long-term commitments.
By noon, he had made several job calls, and by the afternoon, he had made his decision.
A warehouse night shift.
Decent pay for the hours, and the physical labor would help him build strength. It was the best option he could get on short notice.
His new boss asked if he could start today.
Jisoo agreed without hesitation. The reality of his new routine settled in—training, working, and preparing for what was to come. There was no room for hesitation, no time to second-guess.
Before leaving, Jisoo found his mother in the kitchen, drying dishes. He hesitated before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around her in a firm hug.
She stiffened in surprise before chuckling softly. "What’s this? My son getting all sentimental on me?"
Jisoo buried his face into her shoulder for a second before pulling back. "Just… thanks for everything, Mom."
She gave him a searching look, concern flickering in her eyes. "Jisoo, is something wrong?"
He forced a smile. "No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to say it."
She sighed, ruffling his hair like she used to when he was younger. "Alright, alright. Go on then. Don’t be late."
Jisoo nodded, grabbing his bag and stepping outside. The cool air hit his face as he inhaled deeply. This time, I’ll protect this family.
His first training session was brutal.
His morning run was a disaster. Every step felt like wading through concrete, his lungs burning with every breath. He had set a goal, but his body rebelled—his legs seizing up, his vision blurring. He barely made it halfway before collapsing onto a bench, gasping for air. His frustration simmered, but he reminded himself:
I have time.
Not much, but enough to keep pushing.
By the time the evening rolled in, he was done with his training, exhaustion clung to his limbs. He forced himself to eat something healthy, knowing he needed the energy to recover, even as exhaustion weighed heavily on him.
He had work soon.
Arriving at the warehouse, Jisoo met his supervisor, a burly man who barely spared him a glance before handing him a pair of gloves.
"You must be the new guy," the supervisor grunted, barely glancing up. "Back crates. Get moving. And don’t break anything—I don’t like cleaning up after idiots."
"Yes, sir," Jisoo answered, his tone firm with determination.
Jisoo got to work, pushing through the soreness from his earlier training. His arms ached, his legs felt like lead, but he grit his teeth and endured.
The hours passed, and by the end of his shift, every muscle in his body screamed in protest.
As he clocked out, his supervisor gave him a nod. "Good job today, newbie."
Jisoo blinked, surprised by the small acknowledgment. It was a stark contrast to the exploitation he had faced before regressing.
Still, as he left the warehouse, a small smile crept onto his lips.
This is only the beginning.
Jisoo stepped out of the warehouse, the cold night air brushing against his sweat-dampened skin. His muscles ached, his limbs heavy with fatigue, but his mind remained sharp.
He adjusted the strap of his bag and set off, taking a different route home. He had learned from his past mistakes—he remembered the night he had been mugged on this path—cornered, beaten, and left with nothing. The memory was sharp, etched into his mind like a scar. Not this time.
His new route was longer, weaving through well-lit streets and areas with more foot traffic. Every step carried purpose; every decision, a calculated move to avoid unnecessary danger. He wasn’t just training his body—he was retraining his instincts.
At one point, he passed a familiar convenience store. A memory flickered—this was where it had happened. A group of thugs had been waiting near the alley, their presence unnoticed until it was too late. He had walked right into it.
Jisoo slowed his pace, scanning the area out of habit. No threats tonight. But the tension in his shoulders remained. Even though he had avoided that mistake, there were a hundred others waiting to happen. One small change wasn’t enough. He had to be better.
By the time he reached home, exhaustion settled into his bones. It was different from the crushing fatigue he had known in his past life—this one felt rewarding, like a step toward something greater.
Before heading to bed, Jisoo pulled off his shirt, examining himself in the mirror. Bruises from lifting crates dotted his arms, a dull ache lingering in his shoulders and legs. It wasn’t much, but it was progress—a sign of his dedication.
His fingers traced a faint scar on his ribs—a relic from his past life. He knew exactly when and where he had gotten it. A mistake. A failure. One that had cost him dearly. The sight of it only reinforced his determination. Not again.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As he stepped out of the bathroom, Nari’s door creaked open. She peeked out, blinking sleepily. "You’re back late."
"Yeah. Long day," Jisoo said, keeping his tone casual.
She studied him, her gaze lingering on the tired slump of his shoulders before crossing her arms. "I know you want to help, but don’t overwork yourself too much. Don’t be an idiot."
Jisoo let out a short chuckle. "I’ll be fine."
"Uh-huh, that’s what all idiots say before they collapse from exhaustion." She smirked, but there was genuine concern behind her teasing tone. "Just… don’t do anything stupid, alright?"
His smirk softened. "Got it, Nari. Get some sleep."
She huffed but nodded, retreating back into her room. She knew something was different.
Lying in bed, Jisoo stared at the ceiling, willing himself to recall everything he could about the future.
The gaps were frustrating. He had expected his notebook to be with him, to have all the answers neatly laid out, but the system had locked it away. He could only rely on his own fragmented memories.
He grasped at loose details—a corporation that would rise, an investment that would boom, a company that would crumble. But without certainty, any attempt at financial planning was a gamble.
Too risky.
Frustration gnawed at him. If he had the notebook now, he could do so much more. Instead, he was left scrambling, trying to piece together half-formed recollections from a future that was already shifting.
Still, he wasn’t completely powerless.
Instead, he decided on a more practical approach. He would use the money he earned for two things:
- A healthier diet. Proper meals were expensive, but necessary to support his training.
- Helping to pay off the loan sharks.
The family already owed money to Iron Hand. They weren’t the poorest, but they had struggled enough that when they needed financial help, the bank refused them. At the time, there weren’t many options left. That’s when they turned to the loan sharks. Before The Awakening, they had always managed to pay on time, avoiding conflict. But afterward—after what his father did—it all spiraled out of control. Especially with Iron Hand awakening.
Jisoo exhaled, forcing the bitterness from his mind. He wasn’t there yet.
For now, his priorities were clear. Train. Work. Stay ahead.
Rather than focusing on vague ideas like "getting stronger," Jisoo needed measurable goals.
- Increase his running distance fivefold in the first few weeks, aiming for tenfold by the end of six months—though deep down, he aimed for twentyfold.
- Gradually multiply his lifting capacity at work, pushing himself beyond his past limits.
- Strengthen his mental resilience through strict discipline, meditation, and refined strategic thinking.
He wanted to improve not just his physical condition, but also his psychological state. The exhaustion he felt now wasn’t just about the body—it was about breaking past the mental barriers that had once held him back.
These weren’t just steps; they were the foundation of his transformation.
These weren’t massive achievements, but they were steps. Tangible markers of progress.
Sleep pulled at him, his body craving rest. His limbs felt leaden, but it wasn’t the same numbing exhaustion he had carried in his past life. This one was different. It was earned. It meant progress.
He stretched out, feeling the tight ache in his muscles. It wasn’t pain without purpose. Every movement, every choice, was setting the foundation for something bigger.
For the first time in a long time, as his eyelids grew heavy, Jisoo felt something close to satisfaction.
He was moving forward.
Time passed quickly. Nearly a month and a half had gone by since Jisoo’s regression, and the changes were undeniable. His body no longer ached in the same unbearable way after training—he recovered faster, pushed harder, and lasted longer. The exhaustion still remained, but it was different. It was earned. Only four and a half months remained until The Awakening.
His work at the warehouse had become almost second nature. The heavy lifting that had once left him gasping now felt manageable. He wasn’t strong—not yet—but his body was adapting. Each shift built his endurance, forcing his muscles to grow accustomed to the strain.
Jisoo had even started running before work, testing his limits. The first few weeks had been painful, his legs burning before he could even reach a quarter of his goal. Now, he had improved—five times the distance from when he had first started. It wasn’t enough. He needed to reach ten times by the next few months, and ultimately twenty. Anything less would mean falling behind. He couldn’t afford for his stamina to fail him when it mattered most. He had a lot planned, and stamina would play a crucial role in everything. If he tired too quickly, all his preparation would be meaningless.
One evening, after finishing his run and before heading to work, Jisoo decided to check something. His stats.
Sitting on the living room couch, he exhaled deeply and focused. System.
A familiar blue interface materialized in front of him. His heartbeat quickened slightly, but as his eyes scanned the screen, his excitement immediately faded.
[Status: Unchanged]
[Attributes: Locked Until Awakening]
[Abilities: Inactive]
Jisoo’s fingers clenched slightly. No changes.
He had trained for nearly a month and a half, improving his body beyond what his past self had ever managed, and yet, his stats refused to budge. He gritted his teeth. Even without the system, his efforts should have counted for something.
Then, as if in response to his frustration, a system message appeared.
[Reminder: The system will not be functional until The Awakening day.]
Jisoo let out a slow breath, leaning back into the couch. So even if I push myself to my limit, none of it will register until then. It was a harsh reality, but not unexpected.
Still, it frustrated him.
“The Awakening day, huh…” he murmured under his breath, his thoughts drifting toward the looming event.
“What did you just say?”
Jisoo’s head snapped up. Nari was standing in the hallway, staring at him.
His pulse jumped. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. For a split second, his mind raced for an excuse.
She raised an eyebrow. “The Awakening? What’s that?”
Jisoo forced a chuckle, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just a line from some movie I was trying to remember.”
Nari narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced, but she shrugged. “Whatever. Weirdo.”
“Who are you calling weirdo, hmm?” Jisoo shot back, smirking. “Can’t I watch movies now?”
Nari rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t start quoting weird stuff at night like some maniac.” She gave him a playful side glance before disappearing back into her room.
That was close.
Jisoo exhaled, rubbing his temple. He needed to be more careful. One slip like that, and people would start asking questions.
That night, as Jisoo lay in bed, he stared at the ceiling, his mind restless despite the exhaustion clinging to his limbs.
Less than five months left.
His training was working, his endurance improving, and his strength increasing. But it still wasn’t enough. He had to break through his limits. If he wasn’t much stronger than he was at the start by the time The Awakening came, he wouldn’t survive.
No… ten times wouldn’t be enough.
He needed more.
His goals were ambitious, but he refused to settle for less. His past self had been weak, slow, and unprepared. This time, he would push beyond what he thought possible.
But even as he hardened his resolve, the ghosts of his past clawed at the edges of his mind.
He saw the empty space where his father used to sit at the dinner table, his mother’s quiet strength slowly crumbling in his absence. The day he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a mountain of debt and the cold realization that he had abandoned them. The loan sharks knocking on their door, the slow erosion of whatever little security they had left.
Then came the hospital room—the sterile white walls, the steady beeping of machines, his mother’s frail body confined to a bed. He had sat by her side, gripping her hand, promising her that things would get better. But deep down, even he hadn’t believed his own words.
And then… the pain. The sharp sting of fists colliding with his ribs, his face pressed against the dirty pavement of an alley, laughter echoing in his ears. He had been weak. So, so weak. Powerless against the world that crushed him underfoot.
Jisoo clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Never again.
This time, he wouldn’t just survive—he would fight, claw, and carve his way to something greater. He would make sure that when The Awakening came, he would be ready. No one would take from him again.
Jisoo exhaled, rubbing his temples as his thoughts churned. He was throwing everything he had into this—training until his muscles screamed, working himself to the bone. There was no room for hesitation, no space for failure. His mother. His sister. They were his reason. His anchor. The only thing that had ever mattered. Every drop of sweat, every aching limb, every sleepless night—it was all for them. He would burn himself down to nothing if it meant they wouldn’t suffer.
But then, another thought crept in, unsettling him.
Strength wouldn’t matter. Wealth wouldn’t matter. What if none of it was enough?
A shiver ran down his spine. His mother’s sickness had taken everything from her, slowly stripping away her strength until she could barely wake up, barely whisper his name. Those moments when she opened her eyes had been so rare, so fleeting. He had spent years searching for a cure, combing through every lead, consulting every desperate rumor.
Even in his last 48 hours before regression, he had scoured the internet, spoken to doctors, dug into underground networks—but nothing. No leads. No hope.
His only chance now was to become strong enough to earn something—hidden rewards from fractures, secret artifacts from the Tower, or even a rare ability that could change everything.
He let out a slow breath, his fingers brushing over the rough fabric of his blanket. He couldn’t give up.
His mother was part of the reason he was doing this. He wouldn’t just fight for survival. He would fight for her.
The countdown ticked away, relentless, unyielding. Jisoo exhaled slowly, his resolve sharpening.
The real challenge hadn’t even begun.