Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 62: Training

I started slow.

The breathing technique Damien had given me wasn’t complicated, but it was… unnatural.

I inhaled through my nose, deep and controlled, holding the air in my lungs longer than felt comfortable before exhaling in a precise rhythm.

It wasn’t just about taking in oxygen—it was about pulling something else in with it.

Mana.

It was faint at first. Almost unnoticeable. But the more I focused, the more I felt it. The way the energy seeped into my muscles, flowing into the very fibers of my body.

My skin prickled.

My bones felt denser.

My muscles… tightened.

It wasn’t painful, not yet. Just an odd sensation, like my body was shifting in a way it shouldn’t.

I exhaled, then inhaled again. The pattern repeated.

[Good, good.] Damien’s voice hummed in my head.

[You’re picking it up faster than I expected. But you’re gonna need more than just breathing if you really want to refine your body properly.]

I scoffed. "Yeah, I figured."

[Body refinement aren’t something that happen overnight, Noah.

You need to push your body beyond its limits over and over again, forcing it to break down and rebuild stronger each time.

You’ll feel like you’re dying, but that’s the whole point!]

"Great," I muttered, almost too sarcastically. "Sounds fun."

Still, I didn’t stop.

I continued the breathing technique, keeping the flow steady as I moved to the center of the room. The space was small, but there was enough room for basic exercises.

I started with push-ups.

One.

Two.

Three.

It was easy. Too easy.

So I adjusted.

I slowed down, forcing my muscles to stretch and contract with every movement, making each push-up as controlled as possible. I focused on the tension, the way my body trembled slightly under the deliberate strain.

Mana pulsed through my veins, reinforcing every fibre of my being.

Ten.

Twenty.

Thirty.

A dull ache spread through my arms and shoulders, but I kept going. The goal wasn’t just to exercise.

It was to push my body beyond what it was comfortable with—to tear it down so it could rebuild stronger.

By the time I reached fifty, sweat dripped from my forehead. My breath was steady, controlled, but I could feel the strain settling into my limbs.

[Not bad, but you can do more.]

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, I shifted to sit-ups, then squats, then burpees. My body burned, muscles screaming in protest, but I didn’t stop.

This was different from any training I had done before. It wasn’t about brute force or immediate gains—it was about refinement. Every movement mattered. Every breath counted.

Time passed.

Minutes.

An hour.

Maybe more.

By the time I collapsed onto the floor, my entire body felt like it was on fire.

I lay there, panting, staring up at the polished wooden ceiling.

My muscles ached. My skin felt tight. But beneath all of that, there was something else—something new.

I felt… different.

Not stronger, not yet. But there was a shift, a change deep within my body.

[Not bad for your first session.] Damien mused. [Keep this up, and you might actually survive out there.]

I let out a weak chuckle. "High praise, coming from you."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself rest. My body screamed for sleep, but I knew better. If I stopped now, I wouldn’t get up again.

Groaning, I pushed myself to sit up, wincing at the soreness spreading through my limbs.

I needed food. Water. And maybe—

The door creaked open.

I snapped my head up, tensing automatically.

Sylvie stepped inside, a small bag in her arms. Her sharp black eyes immediately scanned me, lingering on the sweat-drenched state I was in.

"…What exactly are you doing?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Training," I muttered.

Her gaze flickered to the floor, then back to me.

"You look half-dead."

"Feels like it too."

Sylvie sighed, setting the bag down on the small table. "Well, at least you still have enough energy to complain."

I watched as she pulled out several vials, their glass surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room.

"Potions?" I guessed.

She nodded. "I managed to buy a few healing potions and some medicine with the gold from those mercenaries.

It’s not much, but it should be enough to help us recover."

I frowned slightly. "Shouldn’t we be saving money for—?"

"For survival?" she finished for me. "Yes. But tell me, what’s the point of money if you collapse from exhaustion before we even reach the portal?"

I had no argument for that.

Sylvie handed me a vial. "Drink."

I took it without protest, uncorking the small glass bottle and downing its contents in one gulp.

The taste was bitter, but almost instantly, a soothing warmth spread through my body. The soreness dulled slightly, though it didn’t disappear completely.

Sylvie watched me for a moment before shaking her head. "You really are different now."

I glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

She sat down on the chair by the table, her expression soft. "Before, you wouldn’t have trained like this. You wouldn’t have pushed yourself to the point of collapse."

I looked down at my hands, flexing my fingers.

She wasn’t wrong.

A few days ago, I never would have done this...

But now?

Now, I knew what was at stake.

"I can’t afford to be weak," I said quietly.

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Sylvie didn’t respond immediately.

Then—

"No, you can’t."

Her voice was soft, but firm.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Finally, she stood up. "Get some rest. We leave for the portal in two days."

I nodded.

She moved towards the door but paused just before stepping out.

"And Noah?"

I looked up.

She met my gaze, her crimson eyes serious.

"Don’t lose yourself."

Then she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I exhaled slowly, lying back down.

Lose myself?

I frowned, staring at the ceiling.

What did she mean by that?

I was still me. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

I clenched my fists, feeling the lingering tremors in my muscles.

I was changing. I had to change.

This world didn’t care about hesitation, didn’t care about mercy. I had seen what happened to people who were weak.

The corpses of those mercenaries in the forest were proof enough.

If I hesitated, if I faltered even for a second… I would end up just like them.

And yet, a small part of me—one I tried to ignore—whispered that she had a point.

I was changing.

But was I still me?

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.

It didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter.

I had a goal. I had a path forward.

And I would walk it—no matter what.

For the person I had to beat wasn’t just some random guy.

No.

It was the Hero of this story-

It was Azazel Daffneer.

***

A/N:

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