Chapter 15: Rest and Preparation

Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Rest and Preparation

Damon slowly opened his eyes, the dim light of the alley gradually coming into focus. He was lying on a makeshift bed of old boxes and discarded clothes, his body feeling a mix of fatigue and anticipation.

He had grown accustomed to the hard, rough surface beneath him, but today was different. Today was the day before the fight.

As he sat up, a message appeared in front of him, the soft glow of the system's screen illuminating the dark alley.

[PRE-MATCH DAY, NO EXCESSIVE EXERCISING, THIS IS THE DAY OF REST AND PREPARATION]

Damon's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with questions. No exercising? But he had grown to enjoy the rush of endorphins, the feeling of his muscles working together in harmony.

He wondered if he should go against the system's advice, push himself to new limits, but something held him back.

[STRETCH FOR 30 MINUTES]

He sighed, deciding to trust the system's guidance. He slowly stood up, his joints cracking softly, and began to stretch. His muscles lengthened, his tendons flexing, as he moved slowly, deliberately.

The alley was quiet, the only sound the distant hum of traffic, the occasional scurrying of rodents through the trash. Damon's movements were the only disturbance, his breathing steady, his focus solely on the stretch.

As he stretched, Damon's mind wandered to the fight ahead. He thought about his opponent, wondered what he would be like, how he would move. He thought about his own strategy, his strengths and weaknesses.

The 30 minutes passed slowly, but Damon didn't rush. He savored the feeling of relaxation, the calmness that settled over him like a blanket.

When he finished, Damon stood up, his body feeling loose, his mind clear. He knew what he had to do today - rest, prepare, and focus. He would visualize the fight, think about every possible scenario, every move he could make.

He walked over to the wall, leaning against it, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance. He knew tomorrow would be different, but for now, he just rested.

He glanced over at his mother, who was still sleeping, her body exhausted from the intense exercise routine she had been following. Damon was happy to see her pushing herself, knowing it was good for her health.

He quickly got up and made his way to the restroom, his feet carrying him swiftly across the short distance. As he entered the men's restroom, he was hit with the familiar smell of urine and grime.

The air was thick with the stench, but Damon was used to it. He had grown accustomed to the unpleasant odors that came with living on the streets.

He made his way to the cubicle, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble. The restroom was quiet, with only a few people coming and going. Damon entered the cubicle, locking the door behind him.

As he stood there, he let loose, feeling the relief wash over him. But as the minutes ticked by, he began to feel a growing sense of unease. 1 minute turned into 2, 2 turned into 4, and still, he was peeing. The stream showed no signs of slowing, no signs of stopping.

People began to filter in and out of the restroom, casting curious glances his way as they waited for the other stalls to open up.

They would glance at him, then quickly look away, their faces scrunched up in confusion and disgust.

Damon was shocked too. He had never experienced anything like this before. Was this healthy? Was this normal? He didn't know, but he knew it had to be related to the system's clearing process.

As the minutes continued to tick by - 6, 8, 10 - Damon started to feel a sense of embarrassment. He was the only one in the restroom still peeing, and the stares were becoming more and more uncomfortable.

He shifted his weight, trying to will the stream to stop, but it just kept going. He felt like he was going to be stuck there forever, a never-ending fountain of urine.

The smell in the restroom was bad enough, but now Damon was adding his own unique aroma to the mix.

He felt a wave of humiliation wash over him as he realized he was becoming the source of the stench.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the stream began to slow, then trickle, then stop. Damon let out a sigh of relief as he shook himself off, feeling a mix of emotions: embarrassment, confusion, and a hint of fear.