Unable To Weight Bare の小説・ストーリー

I didn’t have a spotter, so if I got into trouble I knew that I would need the extra help to put the bar up. Tyler was screaming at everyone else to go even harder, harder, harder. We were weak, he has been taking it easy on us. But now he’s now he’s not going to be so nice anymore. He walked back over to me and he added another 50kg’s to the bar and I was really struggling with the weight. But I could feel Opal come forward a little more and help me lift the weights. I was already up to 250kg’s. I had never lifted that much weight before and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do that on my own.

Hence, if someone must be held accountable, it should not be him. Then, Maisie traced her finger along with the weight inscription's pattern. There was still a faint smile on her face, but the solemness in her eyes was gone. Soon, Maisie turned to William and asked, "Uncle William, how much weight can a weapon gain if it's engraved with your weight inscription?" "About six to eight times heavier." William thought about it and gave a rough estimation.

I shrugged. "How about his wounds?" Ara asked, then bit a pizza. I sighed. "When I tried to change the dressing, I couldn't move the stranger even an inch. He's so heavy for his small physique." It was as if that person was a huge boulder. I have been lifting weights regularly, but I wonder why his weight was excessive. "That's weird," Perth said, scratching his chin. "Are we talking about that naked guy?" Ara said, looking quite petrified.

Aries said softly with sweat in his palms. Soon, someone came to help Thomas put on a load-bearing suit weighing five hundred kilograms. His hands, feet, waist, legs, arms, back, and belly needed to bear this load. Most people could not even stand up when burdened by such a heavy load-bearing suit, let alone jump over obstacles.

"The canyon," Vance said. "Not the machine." "Explain fast," Xander said. The siege ram was forty meters away and closing and the pace of its closing was not comfortable. "Dead-Weight Pass gets its name from the limestone overhang density. The saturation coefficient is extremely high — the ledges above us are holding significantly more weight per cubic meter than standard limestone because of the mineral water table that runs through the formation." Vance's voice was the voice of someone who had grown up on ridges and had consequently learned things about rock that most people didn't need to know. "The anchor charges we rigged were set for controlled localized drops. But if we put them direc

My fingers scrape metal, slide, and I catch the bar. Barely. My shoulders scream as my full weight settles. Sweat slicks my palms, turning the bars into a personal vendetta. I tighten my grip until my knuckles ache. And above us, that stupid timer keeps counting. I move more carefully now. Nessa does the same, testing each bar with fast, sharp tugs before committing her weight. But even that doesn’t guarantee anything. One holds. The next drops instantly, leaving her hanging one-handed as she scrambles to recover.

On the screen, Miley poked him curiously and then said awkwardly, "Fine, I trust you." She did as she was told, but soon found out... "Why is it so heavy?" Miley frowned. Jonason adjusted the weights for her. She tried lifting it again and said, "It's still very heavy!" She looked down at the weights beneath her, and saw that Jonason, the b*stard, still had more than 60 kilograms after the adjustment! She blushed with anger. "Do I look like someone who can lift 60 kilograms?" Jonason frowned. "That's very light."

Nina pov (One hour before Dante’s forces breach) I wake slowly. Not with panic— not with the sharp jolt of fear that used to tear me out of sleep when Ricky was angry— but with weight. Heavy. Pressing. Wrong. My wrists are the first thing I feel. They burn. Not the clean pain of a cut, but the deep, nauseating ache of skin pulled too tight, nerves screaming beneath plastic biting into flesh. My shoulders are dragged back, locked in a position that makes my spine throb with every shallow breath.

I pointed at the ends. She listened to me intently, moving a few 20lb weights onto each peg. I cocked an eyebrow. No way could lift that much; the bar itself was 45lbs, and another 65 on top made my disbelief in her abilities worse. I’m glad I said nothing, however. Because I would have eaten those words. She squatted, grabbed it in the exact spots I told her to, and lifted the weight with ease. The shock that wrote itself on her face matched the bewilderment I felt in my chest, and she dropped the weight with a resounding crash.

It’s probably custom built, hand-forged weights by monks in the mountains or something equally obnoxious. The noises are clear from here, if I just stretch my neck around the corner, I’ll see the source. I want to turn around, walk away before I cross some line. But, I don’t. Curiosity killed the cat, and apparently, it’s coming for me next. I creep forward, peeking around the wall, and… Oh. Thorne Wintermere, in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, bare feet planted firmly on the floor. He’s dead lifting so much weight I can’t even wrap my head around it. The bar bends under the strain, plates stacked to ridiculous proportions.