The messages were sent.

Seven little packages of terror, winging their way through the digital ether to land in the phones of seven boys who probably thought they were safe in their beds. Screenshots. Video previews. Just enough to make them understand that the charity case they'd spent years tormenting wasn't quite as harmless as they'd assumed.

Just enough to make them piss themselves in their Egyptian cotton sheets.

Phei set his phone down and stretched, feeling the satisfying pop of his spine.

Done.

Now he just had to wait for the panic to set in. For the frantic group chats. For the desperate 4 AM calls to daddy's lawyers.

Let them stew.

But his body wasn't ready for sleep. Not yet. There was still something nagging at the back of his mind.

My Daily routine is incomplete.

Right. The grind.

He glanced at the clock: 4:17 AM. Too late for a run—the streets of Paradise were technically safe at any hour, but he wasn't stupid enough to test that theory while his stats were still garbage. Besides, explaining to anyone why he was jogging through the neighbourhood at four in the morning would raise questions he didn't want to answer.

But the penthouse had a rooftop pool.

And the routine was either running or swimming 30 laps

"I'm going for a swim," Phei announced, pushing back from the table.

Melissa looked up from her wine, one elegant eyebrow raised like she was questioning his sanity—and possibly her own life choices.

"Now?"

"Need to finish my routine."

"Your... routine."

"It's an exercise thing I set for myself. Daily requirement." He was already heading toward the elevator that led to the rooftop level. "You can come watch if you want. Or not. Whatever."

He heard her sigh behind him—the long-suffering sound of a woman who had decided to attach herself to someone deeply strange and was only now beginning to understand the full implications.

Then the click of heels on marble, following him up.

**

The rooftop pool was everything you'd expect from a penthouse in Downtown Paradise: infinity edge overlooking the glittering skyline, subtle underwater lighting that made the water glow like liquid sapphire, heated to the perfect temperature because God forbid rich people experience mild discomfort.

Phei stripped down to his boxers—no point being modest now, Melissa had seen considerably more—and dove in.

The water was warm. Perfect. He cut through it like a knife, muscle memory from years of mandatory PE classes kicking in despite his body's general weakness.

Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe.

His arms burned. His lungs protested. Every lap felt like dragging himself through concrete.

But he didn't stop.

Melissa settled into one of the poolside loungers, wine glass in hand, watching him flail through the water with all the grace of a drowning cat trying to win an Olympic medal.

"Phei."

Stroke. Stroke. Breathe.

"Phei, darling."

Stroke. Stroke. Breathe.

"Phei."

He reached the wall, turned, pushed off. Started another lap.

"Why are you swimming at four in the morning?"

"Told you." Gasp. Stroke. "Routine."

"What routine? You've never had a routine. In ten years, I've never seen you voluntarily exercise even once."

"New me." Stroke. Stroke. "New habits."

She was quiet for a moment, sipping her wine, watching him fight the water like it had personally offended him.

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"Probably." He reached the wall again. Kept going. "Worth it."

"Worth what?"

He didn't answer. Couldn't answer, really—not without explaining the system, the stats, the fact that every rep and lap was slowly building him into something that wasn't pathetically weak.

So, he just swam.

Lap after lap. Stroke after stroke. His muscles screaming, his lungs burning, his body begging him to stop.

He didn't stop.

Twenty laps. Thirty. Forty.

By the time he finally dragged himself out of the pool, gasping like a landed fish, his entire body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder and reassembled by someone who'd only seen a human once.

But then—

[DING!]

[DAILY ROUTINE COMPLETED!]

[REWARDS: +1 ENDURANCE, +1 AGILITY, +10 POINTS]

Phei collapsed onto the warm tiles beside the pool, chest heaving, a stupid, savage grin splitting his face.

Worth it.

"Are you quite finished having your breakdown?" Melissa asked, peering down at him from her lounger with the weary amusement of a woman who'd just watched her lover try to drown himself in chlorine for fun. "Or should I call an ambulance? Or perhaps a priest?"

"M'fine," he managed, still gasping like a fish that had discovered CrossFit. "Just... building character."

"You look like you're dying."

"Character... has a price."

She rolled her eyes, but there was fondness in it—the kind of exasperated affection you reserve for someone who is clearly insane but happens to be your particular flavor of insane.

"Come here," she said, setting down her wine glass and rising from the lounger. "Before you catch pneumonia or something equally dramatic."

She helped him up—he was steadier than he had any right to be, the new stat points already weaving into his muscles like quiet reinforcements—and wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

Their eyes met.

"You know," Melissa murmured, her hand sliding up his bare chest, fingers tracing the rivulets of water with deliberate slowness, "all that swimming... watching you push yourself like that... it was actually quite..."

"Quite what?"

Her smile turned predatory—slow, wicked, the kind that made a man's blood reroute south without asking permission.

"HOT!"

Phei's grin matched hers, sharp and hungry.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm." She pressed closer, her body warm and soft against his chilled skin, nipples already hard points through the thin shirt. "Makes me want to... push you. See how much you can take."

"That sounds like a challenge."

"Doesn't it? Hehehe~"

He kissed her. Hard. Demanding. That made promises neither of them intended to keep—promises about being gentle, about taking it slow, about anything resembling restraint.

She gasped against his mouth, fingers tangling in his wet hair, pulling him closer like she was starving.

They didn't make it back to the bedroom.

The lounger worked fine.

****

An hour and a half later, Melissa lay sprawled across the cushions—hair wild, lips swollen, skin flushed and marked with his bites, thighs trembling from the last orgasm he'd wrung from her.

"I yield," she gasped, waving one limp hand in surrender. "I yield, I yield, I yield. You win. Whatever this competition was, you've won it."

Phei propped himself up on one elbow, barely winded. The contrast was almost comical—him bright-eyed and ready for round four, her looking like she'd just survived a natural disaster with his name on it.

Dragon's Rod. Endless stamina. Yeah. That is definitely working as advertised.

"Come on," he said, rising smoothly and offering her his hand. "Let's get cleaned up."

She groaned. "I can't move."

"Wasn't asking."

He scooped her up—actually lifted her like she weighed nothing, which was hilarious given that his Strength was still technically "below average"—and carried her toward the ensuite bathroom.

"This is ridiculous," she mumbled against his chest. "You're ridiculous. How are you still standing? I'm twenty years older than you and you've broken me."

"Told you." He shouldered open the bathroom door. "New me. New habits."

"New habits don't explain this."

He just smiled and set her gently on the bathroom counter, turning on the shower to let the water warm.

Steam began to fill the room.

Melissa watched him through heavy-lidded eyes, a mix of exhaustion and wonder on her face.

"What happened to you, Phei? Really?"

He considered the question. Considered telling her the truth—

But no.

"Does it matter?" he asked instead, stepping closer, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "I'm here now. You're here now. That's what matters to me."

She searched his face for a long moment.

Then smiled.

"Fine. Keep your secrets." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a soft kiss. "For now."

"For now," he agreed.

And then he lifted her again, carrying her into the steam and the heat and the water, where the city lights glittered through the fogged glass like a thousand distant stars.

Tomorrow would bring new problems. New challenges. New enemies to outmaneuver and new allies to cultivate.

But for now, in this moment, Phei let himself enjoy what he'd earned.

Not bad for Phei, he thought, Melissa's laughter echoing off the tiles as the hot water washed away the night.

Not bad at all.

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