Chapter 3
Just as he was about to give up, a gravelly voice called from behind a forklift. "Oi, you the one asking around for work?" An old man, lean but sturdy, stepped out. He wore an oil-stained cap that read Benny's Dock, and his overalls were patched but clean. He had weathered skin, grey stubble, and tired eyes that had clearly seen more than a lifetime's worth of storms.
"Name's Benny. This here's my dock," he said. Ash nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'll do anything. I just need a chance." Benny studied him for a second, then sighed. "You look like hell. But I've seen hell a dozen times, and sometimes hell just needs a hot meal and honest work." He turned and waved over thirteen towering men behind him.
"These are my boys—Jax, Cole, Rufus, Big Tim, Lenny, Rick, Shawn, Dino, Marcus, Joel, Gage, Bruno, and Tiny—he's the biggest one," Benny chuckled as the tallest of them, Tiny, grinned down at Ash. "You're gonna be the fourteenth. But listen here, son. I'll give you work, pay you fair. All I ask is you do your best, don't lie, and don't piss it away on crap."
Ash nodded immediately. "I promise. I'll work hard. I won't waste it." Benny grunted, tossing him a faded work vest. "Then welcome to Benny's. You start now. Grab a broom. Let's see if you can keep up."
Ash was handed a faded yellow hard hat, an old reflective vest, and a pair of scuffed work boots that were two sizes too big, but he didn't complain. The environment changed around him—suddenly the air was thicker with dust and sweat, and the sound of machinery echoed between metal containers. Benny gave him a quick nod and pointed.
"Start with those crates—stack 'em near the red forklift, and don't drop anything unless you want Jax's foot in your face." The boys chuckled. "Hey, careful! That's how Tiny lost his toenail!" someone shouted, earning a deep, fake sob from the massive man. "It never grew back right!" Everyone laughed—even Ash cracked a smile through the exhaustion.
He was the butt of every joke now. "Hey Ash, don't let that crate carry you," Dino joked. "Blink twice if it gets too heavy," Joel added. But their teasing had warmth to it, not malice. Ash could tell—they didn't hate him. If anything, they respected the fact he kept lifting, even when his arms shook. From the very first step he took, he kept doing his special breathing cycle. Inhale, hold five seconds. Exhale, hold five seconds. Repeat.
Every breath brought in mana like oxygen, his body pulling it in through the rhythm. His lungs burned like fire, his muscles screamed with each movement, but he didn't stop. With every swing, lift, and walk, mana moved quicker, stirred up by the activity, rushing into his dormant system. And the more that filled him, the more his body subtly strengthened, not enough to see, but enough to endure more.
By the time lunch came, Ash slumped near the containers, barely able to keep his eyes open. His shirt clung to him, drenched with sweat, and his legs felt like wet noodles. But the moment he hit the floor, a cheer went up. "Still breathing! He's tougher than he looks!" Jax called. "I owe Rick five bucks!" Lenny laughed. Tiny walked over and held out half a huge sandwich. "Eat, Stick Boy. You earned this." Ash blinked, then took it with both hands, hands that trembled.
"Thanks, man…" he mumbled. "Eat up," Benny said, setting a water bottle beside him. "You drop dead on me, paperwork's a bitch." Even exhausted, Ash smiled and forced himself to sit with them. Every bite of that sandwich tasted like heaven. The boys laughed and passed jokes, but Ash sat still, catching his breath, chewing slowly. For the next hour, he didn't move.
Ash swallowed the last bite, closed his eyes, and shifted his breathing. He crossed his legs and fell into meditation, right there beside the crate pile. Some of the boys looked at him funny. "Is he… sleepin' sittin' up?" Rufus asked. "Maybe he's praying," Gage guessed. "Or he's possessed," Bruno added, grinning. Benny raised a hand, silencing them.
"He's meditating, you clowns. Let the boy be. He's got his way of getting stronger, and I'll be damned if it ain't workin' already." The workers nodded, shrugging it off as they leaned back against their crates, still smiling. Ash didn't hear them. His mind was clear, and the mana flowed into him with every beat of his heart.
As the lunch break ended and the sounds of shuffling boots and creaking crates returned, Ash opened his eyes and slowly exhaled, the last of his meditative breath leaving his chest like steam from a vent. The air had cooled slightly, the sun now angled lower and casting longer shadows between the containers. "He's back to life," Gage said with a grin, nudging Tiny. "I really need to try meditating. Looks like it works wonders," Bruno added,
his voice laced with laughter. The group chuckled as they rose to their feet, stretching arms and cracking joints before returning to the grind of lifting, moving, and stacking. Ash followed, slipping back into the rhythm of breath and movement.
The air grew thicker with the scent of oil and metal as the hours ticked on, the aches crawling back into his limbs with every heavy lift. But Ash didn't stop. He moved slower, sure, but his breathing never broke, and the mana he drew in continued to swirl through his body. It wasn't dramatic, but it was steady, and that steadiness made all the difference.
By the time the sun had completely dipped below the horizon, the sky now ink-black, only the pier's flickering orange lights gave shape to their surroundings. The others were winded but fine. Ash was the only one who looked like he might collapse. "You still standing?!" Jax hollered, clapping him on the back. "You're not human!"
Benny stepped up and handed Ash a folded stack of cash—small, worn, but real. "Here," he said. "You earned it." Ash looked down at the bundle like it was gold. The calluses in his palms, the soreness in his spine, the sweat still dripping from his neck—it was all worth it. His lips quivered, and his eyes watered before he turned his head, trying to hide it.
"You crying, kid?" Dino laughed. "Damn, first day and we broke him emotionally." Everyone cracked up. "Don't spend it all in one place, alright?" Benny added, smirking. They all waved him off as they parted ways, climbing into pickups or hopping on bikes, their voices fading into the night air.
Ash didn't go home, he didnt have one. He walked three blocks until he reached the public gym, its old neon sign buzzing faintly against the silence. He booked an hour and headed to the showers. The lights in the locker room flickered as he wiped the sweat from his neck, but his mind was somewhere else.
"Moving crates increased my mana absorption," he thought, drying his face with a towel. "Not as much as meditation... but it still worked. So working out should have the same effect, right?" His eyes wandered over the gym equipment—rows of rusted dumbbells, benches, and an old treadmill with a cracked screen. A tired smile tugged at his face. "Alright then," he muttered. "Let's see what else this body can do."
Ash, despite his legs trembling and arms feeling like overcooked noodles, walked straight from the locker to the weights section. The smell of sweat mixed with cheap cleaning spray clung to the air as he approached the dusty rack of dumbbells. The floor beneath him creaked lightly, and fluorescent lights above flickered again, buzzing softly like insects.
He started with push-ups, sit-ups, squats, lifting what he could—even if it was just his own body weight. He pushed for forty-five straight minutes, forcing every fiber in his muscles to burn. And just like he hoped, the mana flowed—slow at first, then gradually intensifying as his heart raced. He could feel it. His lungs ached, and his breath turned ragged, but the dormant mana inside him surged with his heartbeat, responding to the pain.
As he strained to push through another set of crunches, a soft clang echoed from nearby weights being dropped. A young man with a white tank top and shaved sides approached. "Hey, man, you good? You look like you're about to fall apart," he said, concern etched across his face. A second guy, taller, with headphones hanging around his neck, joined him.
"Seriously, dude, no shame in taking a break. You've been going nonstop." Ash looked up, sweat dripping from his chin as he gave a small, tired smile. "I'm good. Just testing something." His voice cracked near the end, but it was genuine. They exchanged glances, shrugged, and walked off, one of them muttering,
"Guy's built different." Ash returned to work, breathing in five seconds, holding, breathing out five, repeating. The mana responded faster now—each repetition fueling a subtle change, a small reinforcement within his aching muscles.
After a final shaky set of squats, Ash could barely keep his balance. He limped toward the showers, dragging his feet along the floor, and stepped into a vacant stall. The moment the hot water hit his skin, a heavy breath escaped him. Steam rose around his body, and he leaned against the tile wall, letting the grime and fatigue melt off his skin.
He didn't think, didn't breathe in any rhythm. Just stood there, allowing himself fifteen uninterrupted minutes to feel human again. The tiles were cracked in a few places, and one of the overhead lights sparked softly, but Ash didn't care. This moment felt like gold. Once clean, dressed, and slightly more alive, he walked the now quieter street under dim amber streetlamps, his steps echoing against concrete and puddles, back to the noodle shop.
The owner grinned the second Ash stepped in, hands on his hips. "Back again, huh? You working construction or something?" Ash chuckled softly, nodded, and collapsed onto the stool. "Four bowls," he said immediately. The owner's eyes widened. "Four? Again?" But he laughed and got to work. Bowl after bowl arrived, steaming and fragrant, and Ash devoured them with the hunger of a man who hadn't eaten in days.
The fifth bowl came without Ash asking. "On the house," the old man said, setting it down with a smile. "You eat like this, I'll have to hire you to advertise." Ash blinked in surprise before grinning. "Thanks... seriously." The noodles tasted better than anything he could remember. Warmth spread through him—not just from the food, but from the kindness.
When it was all done, Ash's legs trembled as he stood. The night was colder now, the sea breeze stronger, and even the seagulls had gone quiet. He dragged himself back toward the pier, body on the verge of collapse, passing flickering streetlights and the occasional barking dog in the distance.
Once he reached the stack of containers, he sat cross-legged again, resting against the cool metal. The faint sound of waves brushing the shore echoed in the distance. With a deep breath, he began to meditate. His body ached, but the mana swirled, calm and ready, and so was he.
The next morning was the same, and the next one after that, and the one after that. Ash's day consisted of waking up from meditation, going to work while using his breathing technique, and since his work counted as a workout, his mana absorption was increased.
Then he ate lunch, which he bought himself, and then went back to meditate while using his breathing technique, with meditation doubling his absorption. Then he went back to work, more absorbed, and then he went to the gym and worked out intensely for 45 minutes, again using his breathing technique. With those two combined, his absorption was increased again.
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A/N i am back with another chapter, its longer than my usual chapter size, so enjoy and throw the stones.
ps: this is ash, he is a hard worker, that is one big aspect of his personality, a hard worker, you would see him constantly battling strong people and monsters, getting injured, he of course has his flaws, which i want you guys to notice, and be understanding.