Three Weeks Later, 6:15 AM, Garage
The cold was gone.
Now the garage was humid, thick with summer air and stale sweat.
Ashan dropped from his final set of pull-ups.
He didn't land light. He slammed down, legs wobbling under his reduced weight.
He crawled over to his mirror.
148.6 lbs.
Down from nearly 175 in May. (Ashan is 5'6 as of now by the way, there will be room for him to get a little bigger in the future)
Still soft.
Arms stringy.
Love handles smaller, but there.
He flexed.
Nothing impressive yet - but he saw it:
"That's a fighter's frame under there," he muttered.
---
Project Dragon: Day 24
Weight: 148.6
Push-ups: 3 sets of 30 (weighted: 15 lbs)
Pull-ups: 3x5
Planks: 1 min each side
Jump rope: 5 mins (no stops)
Below it in rough, scratched handwriting:
"Not strong yet. But I can MOVE now."
---
School Locker Room
Jalen passed him in the locker hallway.
Didn't even look.
Ricky gave a glance and scoffed.
"Oh, snap. He lost weight. Congrats, I guess?"
Ashan didn't reply.
He zipped his hoodie up, nodded once, and walked off.
---
Lunch Table
Ashan sat alone now.
No friends. No distractions.
Tupperware in front of him: white rice, chicken breast, some spinach.
He had started eating like it mattered.
"You good, bro?" asked a kid from his history class.
"Yeah," Ashan said.
"I'm just building something."
---
He still couldn't afford a gym.
So he trained like a prisoner.
Pull-ups and dips with a weighted backpack.
Shadowboxing in front of his mirror until sweat soaked his waistband.
Footwork drills he found online, chalk circles drawn on cardboard.
Clips of boxers on repeat: Tyson, Ali, Lomachenko.
Clips of Bruce Lee, always Bruce, slow-motion breakdowns of every twitch.
And now…
He added roadwork.
3-mile runs before sunrise.
Nothing fast.
But consistent.
---
9:00 PM, Ashan's bedroom
The algorithm tossed him another gem:
"Killer Instinct: The Power of Gaolang Wongsawat - Thailand's Supreme Boxer."
He clicked.
Gaolang moved like a machine.
Fast. Precise.
No wasted movement.
"WBA World Champion turned… underground fighter?"
"Rumored 'connection to some strange underground Association in Asia.'"
Ashan leaned forward.
"Why do they all say that like it's a myth?"
The mystery deepened.
---
That night, Ashan looked at his hands.
Scarred knuckles. Palms toughening.
Legs getting lean. Core no longer bloated.
He wasn't strong.
Not yet.
But he was transforming.
"This isn't the body of the kid Jalen folded."
"This is the body that's going to make Jalen regret it."
---
Final Journal Entry, Day 24
"Skinny fat". "Still weak."
"But I'm not the same."
"Every drop of sweat is a brick."
"The house is being built."
---