Chapter 4- Training

Then the real training began.

The island had become my training camp.

At first, I thought it was a joke.

Until, before daybreak on the very first morning, the old man knocked on my door.

“Your training begins now,” he said.

“And remember, this is the last time I’ll come to wake you up. From tomorrow onward, you must be outside before I arrive.”

Before I could even process what was happening—or wonder how he knew exactly where I was staying—he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the house.

Half-asleep and still struggling to keep my eyes open, I found myself jogging across the island’s highlands.

For three hours.

By dawn, my legs felt like they were about to fall off.

Without giving me a chance to rest, Zeno led me to an old warehouse and pushed open its creaking doors.

I expected cobwebs and dust.

Instead…

I found order.

Thick ropes hung from the rafters. Wooden dummies, scarred by countless blows, stood in neat rows. Rusted chains dangled from iron beams, while heavy sandbags, sewn from old fishing nets, swayed gently in the breeze.

In one corner lay crude weights fashioned from boat anchors, iron pipes, and concrete.

“What is this place?” I whispered.

The old man looked around, pride flickering across his weathered face.

“The Forge.”

“Why do you call it that?” I asked.

“Because this is where weak people are broken…”

“…and stronger ones are forged.”

He paused before adding,

“Fire doesn’t destroy steel. It reveals what it can become.”

Before I even knew what was happening, he pointed toward one of the sandbags.

“Punch it.”

I did exactly as he instructed.

The moment my fist connected with the bag, a sharp pain shot through my hand.

I immediately grabbed my aching fist.

What on earth was inside that thing?

But Zeno merely shook his head.

“If that’s your strongest punch, I’d rather fight a seagull.”

Before I could even complain…

Bam!

A punch landed squarely in my stomach, sending me rolling across the floor.

I gasped for air.

I briefly considered throwing myself back into the sea. It suddenly seemed like the easier option.

“If you want to survive,” he said calmly, “you can’t afford to be weak.”

He looked down at me.

“Get up.”

“We’ll deal with that fragile fist of yours another day.”

He pointed toward a thick wooden log carved into the shape of a barbell.

It wasn’t the kind of equipment you’d find in a modern gym, but it served the same purpose—and it looked even heavier.

“Carry it.”

I stared at him.

“Fifty times.”

By the fiftieth lift, I thought the day’s torture was finally over.

I was wrong.

Zeno had other plans.

“Come,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You’ve barely eaten today. I made grilled fish and roasted yam.”

For the first time that day…

I smiled.

After lunch, I washed the dishes and turned to leave.

“Who told you you were done?” Zeno asked.

I froze.

He reached into a cupboard and handed me a rusty but fully functional laptop.

I blinked.

Since arriving on the island, I hadn’t seen a single source of electricity.

My face must have revealed every question racing through my mind because Zeno simply pointed upward.

A lone solar panel rested on the roof, quietly absorbing the morning sunlight.

I stared at it in disbelief.

“There is still a lot about me you don’t know,” he said.

“Enough questions.”

“Tell me… do you have any hacking skills?”

Then he glanced at me.

“And while we’re at it, we also need to work on your facial expressions.”

“You think too loudly.”

“Anyone can read your thoughts just by looking at your face.”

I scratched the back of my neck.

“I know how to use a laptop very well.”

He sighed.

“I’m not asking whether you can use a computer.”

“I’m asking whether you can hack into a company’s database…”

“…or shut down a country’s power grid.”

“What?!”

My mouth fell open before I could stop it.

Zeno sighed again.

“Exactly.”

“We’ll definitely be working on those facial expressions.”