EX-istential Crisis

Chapter 23: The Thunderstrike Blitz

Nelly slouched on the bench at the arcade, barely holding his head up. His body was a wreck, his muscles aching from the constant strain, and his brain felt fried from days of brutal training. As he rubbed his sore shoulder, his friends—Ryan, Dan, and Shin—watched him with growing concern.

"You good, man?" Ryan asked, noticing Nelly's pale face and droopy eyes. "You've been lookin' like death warmed over."

Nelly groaned, leaning back and staring at the ceiling as if searching for answers in the blinking lights above. "Dawg... I'm dying... Every single day, my grandpa's been pushing me to the limit."

Shin raised an eyebrow. "Your grandpa? What's he doing, trying to kill you?"

A bitter laugh escaped Nelly's lips. "Might as well be. Dude's crazy," he muttered, shaking his head as the memories of his grandpa's harsh training sessions replayed in his mind.

Flashback

Nelly stood in the backyard, drenched in sweat, fists clenched, his body screaming in protest. His grandpa towered over him, arms crossed, his stern gaze unyielding.

"I thought you wanted to improve yourself? Again!" his grandpa barked, his deep voice booming through the air like a thunderclap. "Block my lethal punch!"

Nelly's arms shook as he raised them to defend against the incoming attack, but it was too late. His grandpa's fist moved with a speed that defied logic, slamming into Nelly's guard and sending him skidding backward across the ground. The force knocked the wind out of him, and he collapsed onto the dirt, gasping for air.

"Again!" his grandpa commanded, his eyes narrowing with intensity. "You can't improve if you're afraid of getting hit."

'HUH IM NOT AFRAID OF GETTING HIT! IM AFRAID THAT IM GONNA DIE BY YOUR LETHAL PUNCHES!" As Nelly complained.

Flashback ends

"Every single day, he keeps making me practice punches that doesn't need too much momentum," Nelly grumbled. "How is that even possible?"

Shin blinked, baffled. "How's that even possible?"

"I don't know, man. Ask him," Nelly replied with an exaggerated shrug. His friends laughed, but he winced, remembering the brutal lesson that followed.

Another Flashback

It wasn't just about hitting hard—it was about precision. His grandpa demonstrated by standing before four dummies, each set in a line, and striking. With one fluid motion, his fist connected with all four dummies, and they shook violently as if struck simultaneously. Nelly watched in awe, but when it was his turn to replicate the move...

"AAAAH! My shoulder! F—!"

He cried out in pain as his shoulder popped out of its socket, the dislocated joint sending a jolt of agony through his entire arm. He clutched at it, trying to move, but the pain was overwhelming.

His grandpa, unfazed by the scene, approached with a smirk. "Tch. Amateur." With a swift slap, he reset Nelly's shoulder back into place with the nonchalant ease of someone flipping a light switch.

"Perform it correctly, or else I'll kill you," his grandpa had said, completely deadpan.

"Seriously, Grandpa?!" Nelly shouted after him, wincing as he tested his newly restored arm.

Four hours later, it was 10 PM, and Nelly was still out there, standing before the dummies with his hands trembling. Sweat poured from his brow, his entire body shaking from exhaustion. He had hit nine dummies at once, almost perfecting the move, but the last one barely moved.

His grandpa watched from a distance, his usual stern expression faltering into something that resembled amusement. But instead of laughing, he shouted, "IDIOT! BLOCK MY ATTACK!"