"Teacher, when will I get to do actual meditation?" I groaned as I struggled against the limits of my body.

  "Patience," came the monk's calm reply.

  His bare foot pressed firmly against my lower back, guiding me deeper into a stretch that felt more like punishment than progress. My thighs screamed in protest, the burn spreading like wildfire as the stretch deepened. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead and pooled at the tip of my nose before dripping onto the ragged cotton rug and the cool stone floor beneath me.

  My legs were splayed wide, muscles quivering from the strain, and my torso was angled toward the ground. Every inch closer felt like an eternity.

  "Straighten! You're curving your back again," the monk behind me instructed.

  I gritted my teeth and lifted my head, forcing my spine into alignment. The movement sent a fresh wave of tension through my lower back and hamstrings, but I held the position, determined to get it right.

  "Good," he said, his tone softer now. "Remember, the goal isn't to press your forehead to the floor. It's your belly button that should draw closer."

  My lips twitched into a dry smile. "Easier said than done."

  Four days into this so-called training and not a moment had been spent for the serene, cross-legged meditation I had initially imagined I'd be doing. There were no chants. No stillness. Just relentless stretching, bending, and breaking of my body's resistance.

  "No pain, no gain," the monk replied.

  He says that, yet why do I seem to be the only one in this whole place in actual pain?

  I gazed envious at the monks to my left, playing a game involving dice. To my right, Leona was delicately feasting on berries and fruit. Even The Ogre, who had arrived a day after me from Adovoria, was stacking a batch of small stones for his prescribed practice. Minuscule towers surrounded him.

  The monk's foot lifted off my back. However, I knew full well that my body's torment was far from over.

  He crouched beside me, his grey eyes sharp and assessing. "Now, flex your feet upward," he said, tapping my heels with his rough hand. Let your energy flow through the soles."

  I complied, though the act sent another ripple of tension up my calves.

  "Good," he murmured. "Keep your torso down. Do you feel the pull in your inner thighs?"

  "Feel it? I'm living it," I muttered through clenched teeth.

  The monk chuckled. "Pain is the first teacher. It speaks where words fail. If you listen, it will guide you. However, you must relax."

  "Relax? How?" I laughed, exasperate.

  I wasn't sure what lesson my thighs were trying to teach me, but they were certainly vocal about it.

  "Breathe," the monk reminded me, his voice like a steady metronome in the chaos of my discomfort. "Not shallow. Deep. Into your diaphragm. It'll help relax and deepen the stretch."

  I felt like cursing, but instead, I did as instructed. I inhaled deeply, feeling my ribs expand as I forced the air to fill spaces that felt constricted. As the monk stated, the stretch seemed to deepen with every breath. It was an endless tug-of-war between my stubborn body and the monk's guidance.

  "When your body learns to yield," he said, his tone meditative, "your mind will follow. Stiffness is not just in the limbs but in the thoughts. Both must bend before they can find stillness and order."

  I exhaled slowly, his words sinking in as the burn in my muscles shifted. It wasn't gone, but there was something almost tolerable about it now, as if my body was beginning to accept the strain. There was even a strange sense of accomplishment. I might not have reached the ground yet, but I was closer than I had been moments ago.

  There was also a measurable accomplishment, as was evident by the blue screens that appeared before me.

  [ Strength: +1 ]

  [ Strength: 6 ]

  [ Dexterity: +1 ]

  [ Dexterity: 46 ]

  On my first day here, I reverted my permissions from the Game Store to regain more access to my growth and performance. It wasn't like I could engage in mass trade with the external realms while in this cavern anyhow. What was I going to sell? Sand?

  The progress to my Strength and Dexterity stats wasn't as significant as it might have been with actual strength and weapon training, but it was far more notable than I'd have thought some stretching capable of accomplishing.

  "Again," the monk commanded, his hand pressing lightly between my shoulder blades, coaxing me to push the stretch further.

  I sighed, resigned.

  Four days down, and if nothing else, my body was beginning to learn the language of discomfort.

  "Teacher, I get that I need to make my body more malleable to meditate properly," I said during a rare break, gulping down the water he offered me. It tasted crisper than any water I'd ever had, its purity almost shocking. "But when do we start training the mind?"

  I gazed at the bald man overseeing my training. He was in his mid-forties, and his thin frame seemed unassuming beneath the loose-fitting, bright orange robes the monks favored. However, the Random Character Checker had previously informed me that his Strength stat was a staggering 142. Sure, it was nothing compared to The Ogre, but for a desert monk? That number was absurd.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  He'd introduced himself on my first day, but his name was a linguistic nightmare, filled with tongue clicks, whistles, and sounds I hadn't even known the human mouth could produce. After eight failed attempts to pronounce it correctly, I abandoned the effort and settled on calling him 'Teacher.' He didn't seem to mind; he appeared pleased by the title if anything.

  "You already are meditating," he replied as though the answer should have been obvious. "As you stretch, your mind submits. It has no choice but to focus on the pain and strain in your body. It cannot wander aimlessly."

  I frowned, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. "But can't I do other types of meditation? Literally anything else? Why am I the only one here stuck doing these torturous stretches?"

  Teacher's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. It was a look that carried quiet amusement as if he was privy to some secret he had no intention of sharing. "Every person who comes here is given a unique practice based on their weaknesses."

  I pointed toward a group in the distance. "You're seriously telling me those three getting drunk out of their minds are meditating? Or what about that pair slapping each other senseless?"

  Teacher's smile deepened. "Those consuming liquor are practicing quieting their minds in the face of internal physical influences—learning to maintain focus despite impairment. The ones fighting are honing their ability to quiet their minds in the face of external chaos. Both practices are advanced forms of meditation."

  I stared at him, baffled. "And what is all this stretching supposed to achieve?"

  "Your body's condition is uniquely poor," he replied. "Without knowing your past, I'd assume you'd been bedridden for months."

  I flinched, caught off guard by his guess.

  "The tension in your body is profound," he continued. "It disrupts the natural flow of energy, blocking meridians and creating restlessness that ultimately seeps into your mind. Attempting to organize your thoughts without addressing this first would be futile. Thus, we must heal the body before we can still the mind."

  I nodded, swallowing my frustration. His words made sense, even if my aching limbs screamed otherwise. Still, I couldn't help but glance with envy at Leona, who had perched herself high on a ledge, leisurely eating berries.

  Why couldn't I have a weakness that required me to eat all day?

  Teacher rose, motioning me to follow him back to the cotton rug. "Now, let us continue. There's much to undo before we can begin building anew."

  I braced myself as I returned to the floor, my muscles already protesting the mere thought of another round of these tortuous stretches. But I didn't bother arguing. Even if it was difficult, the only path to improvement was forward.

  ***

  ~Hah, I wonder what you will pull out today. Apophis hissed in delight, his gaze fixed intently on the Chromatic Pendant dangling from my right hand, its colors swirling as though alive.

  Hopefully, another cake—it was quite delicious. Leona chirped, perching on my right shoulder. Her feathers shimmered faintly in the dim light of my room, and her excitement was evident. Fireworks were going off in my mouth with every bite.

  "Hopefully, it'll be more useful than that cracked, thin metal and glass brick," I muttered, rolling the pendant between my fingers.

  Since obtaining it, the Chromatic Pendant had become part of my daily ritual. I would use it a little before supper when I was alone in the modest room the monks had provided me. The space was small—about the size of a servant's quarters in my family's manor back in Genise. Instead of a proper bed, a thick cotton blanket was spread over a straw pile. But I had no complaints. After years of scraping by in the streets of East Genise before regressing in time, a clean, safe place to rest was perfectly acceptable.

  ~Master, nothing is useless. It all comes down to execution. Apophis hissed into my mind.

  "You found a use for that ball of lint?" I raised a brow, smirking.

  The question was met with silence from the black snake.

  The objects the pendant summoned were, for the most part, absurdly random and useless. Aside from the purple cake Leona had devoured with such enthusiasm, the lint, and the cracked glass brick, three other items had appeared before me.

  Yesterday, there was a box of broken colored wax that I gave as a gift to one of the monks who hailed from the Lellei Kingdom and had artistic pursuits. And per the System, I previously had summoned a pair of rusted, oversized scissors and an hourglass with orange shimmering sand while I was still in Ascot. I had left them behind in my grandmother's villa, finding no use for them.

  With a deep breath, I held the pendant firmly and let its swirling colors entrance me. A familiar warmth spread through my right palm as the pendant's magic activated.

  ~Here it comes, Apophis hissed, his anticipation almost as entertaining as the process.

  I couldn't help but note how fitting it was for him. While among the monks, Apophis had busied himself teaching them a practice he called Advanced Gambling Meditation—a seemingly scammy exercise where the stakes were set high and the outcomes unpredictable, usually resulting in their loss and his gain. It was almost as bad as watching Jasper gamble against some poor, unsuspecting souls. Almost.

  Unlike Jasper, who won each bet he placed, Apophis' gambling streak also involved losses to himself. Yet, he was never dismayed, seemingly delighting equally in his gambles' ups and downs.

  This artifact's summoning ability bore a similar chaotic energy; it was a gamble every time, with no telling what you'd get. Luckily, nothing terrible had appeared thus far. Not that anything helpful had appeared either.

  The pendant vibrated faintly in my grasp, and then, with a soft pop, a strange, twisted root appeared on the floor in front of me.

  I crouched, tilting my head as I examined it. "Is it a carrot?"

  However, it looked too light and misshapen to be a carrot. Moreover, it had small, thread-like offshoots and a faint, sharp smell.

  Leona hopped down from my shoulder, her golden talons clicking softly against the stone floor. Is it edible? she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

  I chuckled.

  Of course. Asking the most important questions.

  Apophis slithered fluidly to the ground, his sleek form coiling as he inspected the root with his sharp, discerning eyes.

  ~Master, it's ginseng, he announced confidently, his purple eyes narrowing. A rare and potent herb. It's bitter in taste, but it was highly valued for its remarkable properties in two realms I'd played in.

  "Ginseng?" I repeated, picking up and turning the root over in my hands.

  ~Indeed, he hissed with a hint of pride, as if he had been the one to summon it. Restorative, energizing, and, depending on how old it is, capable of extending one's vitality. This is unquestionably the most useful of all the objects your pendant has produced.

  So, it's like... a healing herb? Leona's head tilted, her interest evidently waning since it sounded more medicinal than delicious.

  ~Hah, not just healing, Apophis replied, sliding back up atop my left shoulder. Back in one of the realms, this stuff was worth its weight in gold. Players and non-players killed one another to obtain its ability to permanently restore energy, clear meridians, and prolong their lives.

  Leona fluttered back to my shoulder. Human, you can eat that bitter thing. I don't need any help with my life's length.

  "You said it can clear blocked meridians?" I inquired, hopefully.

  ~Indeed, Master, Apophis confirmed, but his tone was dry. But don't get too excited. It's a root, not a miracle. While it can assist with your meridians, it won't entirely save you from the monk's stretching torture.

  I shrugged. "If it can shave even a few days off those exercises, that's a win in my book."

  Carefully placing the ginseng on the small wooden table in the corner of my room, I let out a breath of satisfaction.

  For once, the pendant gave me something that might make a difference.

  "By the way, I don't suppose you know how to prepare this thing?" I asked Apophis. "Or do I eat it raw?"

  ~Ah. Ginseng root can be consumed in many ways. It can be eaten raw or lightly steamed to soften it. You can also stew it in hot water to make tea. Each method retains its benefits, though tea might be the most palatable for you.

  "Tea it is, then."

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