Leaving her apartment together, I was dressed in the same black jogging bottoms I was wearing when I had gone out to crush the Black Hand Gang and now was wearing a tight black top that was covered in the sweet smell of perfume.
Clearly, it belonged to Angela, who seemed to be slightly embarrassed to be walking around her apartment building with me as I followed her to the lift.
I noticed that there weren't any bloodstains on the jogging bottoms, which led me to believe that they had been washed, but I didn't bother asking.
As that would just be digging myself into a hole, since if they had washed my jogging bottoms, they were likely to have seen my friend down there.
Clearing that thought from my mind, looking around the apartment building, it was hard not to look impressed.
The rest of the building was just as clean and modern as her apartment, and the corridors were spacious. It really was a great place to live, and I couldn't help but want this kind of lifestyle for me and my mother.
Stood opposite each other in the lift, Angela was quiet for once.
"What are planning on training?" I ask.
"Today is leg day for me," she answered, as I looked down at her legs.
Admiring her large thighs that supported her giant rear, she angrily stated, "My face is here."
"Yeah, I can admire that too," I commented as I looked at her with a smile.
It was fun teasing her, and I naturally had a playful character most of the time, but I've never really gotten close to a woman before. And now that I was trying to, it made me feel good, and I felt drawn toward her.
Once again, her face was flushed red, and she began to pout as she trotted out of the lift.
We had gone down the second floor from whatever floor her apartment was on, and the entire floor seemed to be a gym.
I also spotted signs that led to a sauna and swimming pool that were on the first floor, along with a cinema on the third floor.
What kind of apartment building has a swimming pool?!
And how much does rent cost in such a place?
Following closely behind Angela, she seemed annoyed as she turned around and said, "Go and exercise then. Why are you following me?"
"Ugh. You really have a short temper. You should get that checked out," I commented, before continuing, "I can't train my arms in the state they are in, so I thought I would train my legs with you."
"Oh... Follow me then."
...
We started with a light jog on the treadmill, and at first, jogging was painful for me, with each step I took rattling my wounds slightly, but once I warmed up, the pain was mostly numbed.
My shoulder wound had been expertly stitched, along with the deep knife wounds that I had on my body, and I had also recovered very quickly thanks to the system, but some blood still leaked out of my wounds.
However, it was nothing extreme, and I felt good while jogging.
Which baffled Angela, who remembered clearly how I was on the verge of death just three days before.
"Wanna see who can run for the longest at this speed?" I asked, seeing the surprise on her face and the competitive glint in her eyes.
Of course, someone with such a fiery character would accept my challenge as we both continued jogging without showing any signs of getting tired.
After half an hour, both of us were sweating and our breathing was starting to become more erratic, but neither of us showed any indication of stopping anytime soon.
We ran at 7 miles per hour, which is quite a fast jogging speed that most wouldn't be able to keep up for half an hour, and yet after an hour, we were still going.
It seemed as though the more I ran, the more she would, and until I decided to stop, it was clear she would try her best to keep up.
"How're you doing there, Angela?" I ask, seeing as she was starting to frantically gasp for air and seemed to be on her last legs.
"I'm doing perfectly fine," she uttered as she tried to control her breathing and continued.
Looking at me as if I was some monster, I could almost hear her thoughts that were clearly along the lines of, 'How the fuck is this guy able to run this much with all of his injuries?'.
To be honest, even I was unsure.
If I was in full health and had prepared myself, I was confident that I could complete a 10-mile run, but running 7 miles with a bullet wound was just unheard of.
[Don't get cocky. There are many that can run marathons even after multiple gunshots and don't ever become complacent or arrogant. You can just attribute your success to the Rapid Recovery the system provided you.]
'Can't I be proud of myself and my capabilities?'
The system didn't bother to answer, which just annoyed me even more, as I continued running and aimed to run an entire marathon.
A marathon is 26.2 miles, and the closest I have gotten to completing it was a 13-mile run as I never saw the need to run so much and improve my stamina to such a level.
Since I mostly trained for combat, it would be more beneficial to train my explosive power and run in short bursts of speed. Because of that, although I was much better than your average joe, I wasn't that confident in my long distance running.
However, now I wanted to prove myself to the system and test just how far I could go.
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