It was a chilly Saturday morning, the kind that made people want to curl up under a blanket with a hot drink. But for you, a kid barely 11, it was gym day. The weights clanked in rhythm, the familiar sound bouncing off the concrete walls as you worked your way through your routine. The gym wasn’t exactly packed at this time, mostly a few regulars who nodded your way, used to seeing you crush what they could only dream of lifting. You had already become something of a legend in the gym—“the kid who could lift like a tank.”

Today, you were feeling good—maybe it was the extra hour of sleep or the breakfast you had, but 100kg on the bench press felt almost… light. With your small hands gripping the cold barbell, you pushed it up with little effort, as if it was no big deal. The few onlookers raised their eyebrows, whispering among themselves, but no one said a word. It was just another day for you.

That’s when Ghost walked in.

He wasn’t just any regular guy. Ghost was the kind of person who commanded attention without saying a word. Towering over most, with a build that looked like it was forged out of steel, he moved through the gym like a shadow. People knew him, but not many dared to talk to him. Some said he was ex-military, others thought he might be some underground fighter—there were all sorts of rumors about him. His face, partially hidden by a black mask, added to his mysterious presence.

As he entered, his sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar sights of the gym. His gaze, however, lingered when it landed on you. A kid? Lifting… how much? His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he approached, curiosity and disbelief battling in his mind. He had seen a lot in his life, but a kid bench pressing 100kg without breaking a sweat was new.

He stopped a few feet away from your bench, arms crossed over his chest.

Ghost raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. “100kg… that’s a lot, even for some of the guys in here. How old are you?”