A gust of wind blew by.

The branches swayed, and leaves flew into the air.

When Mars woke up, it was already evening, and the sky was filled with a red sunset.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. Ron was holding a thick wooden stick, swinging it up and down repeatedly, practicing vertical chops. His black hair was soaked with sweat, and it was unclear how long he had been training.

Mars stared at him blankly.

Ron, noticing Mars from the corner of his eye, stopped, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and smiled at him. "You're awake."

"Yeah, have you been training the whole time since I fell asleep?" Mars asked, still a bit dazed.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Hearing this, Mars looked at Ron with a hint of admiration, as if he was seeing his friend in a new light.

"I found some fruit earlier. Consider it repayment for the bread from this morning."

As Ron spoke, he slicked back his wet hair to keep it from obstructing his view.

Mars finally noticed a pile of fruit sitting next to him. He couldn't help but swallow, and as if on cue, his stomach growled.

Immediately, he grabbed an apple and started eating it in big bites, speaking between mouthfuls, "Did you pick all this fruit, Ron?"

"Yeah."

Ron continued swinging his stick.

"Where did you find it? The nearby trees should've been picked clean by now."

Mars asked, curious.

"I... went a bit deeper into the forest."

Mars's hand froze mid-bite, and he looked at Ron.

"That's the area where Dad and Aunt Mary told us not to go, right? They said there are dangerous beasts there. Ron, you... went in?"

Ron, still swinging the stick with his back to Mars, didn't reply.

"If Dad and Aunt Mary find out..."

Mars's hand, holding the apple, dropped.

"Just don't tell them."

"But..."

"Relax, I won't go back. It was a one-time thing."

"Alright then."

…

Over the next few days, Ron woke up early each morning to train in the forest. He would return briefly for breakfast, then head out with Mars, only to come back drenched in sweat by evening.

After a night's rest, he'd be back at it the next morning with renewed energy…

This routine continued for about ten days.

One morning, Harris called Ron aside for a chat. After hearing about his desire to get stronger, Harris didn't say much and left him to it.

That morning, after finishing his basic training, including 200 push-ups, Ron checked his stats.

[Ron.]

Age: 8.

Vitality Points: 21.

Breath of the Sun Mastery: 0% (Unmastered).

"Sixteen days of intense training, and I've only increased my vitality by 3 points…" Ron was slightly frustrated with the slow progress.

But in truth, for an 8-year-old still in the early stages of physical development, this speed was quite fast.

"My training intensity is sufficient. Although I can't fully utilize the Breath of the Sun yet, just practicing a portion of it helps me recover from muscle fatigue and damage overnight."

"But the real problem is my body's limitations. Without proper nutrition, bread and fruit alone can't meet my needs. I need meat! Lots of meat."

Ron pondered to himself.

But where could he find meat?

The mountains were too dangerous for him at his current strength—facing wild animals would be too risky.

The sea… also wasn't an option.

It seemed like the river was his best bet.

Ron thought quietly.

He needed to quickly craft a fishing tool.

Should he make a fishing rod or a net?

A net seemed like a better choice; using a rod would take too long.

As for materials, maybe the junkyard would have something useful…

"Ron."

A voice snapped Ron out of his thoughts.

He turned around.

A tall, rugged man with a beard and a large sack on his back stood by the road.

"Uncle Brian," Ron called in surprise.

Brian was Harris's best friend, a fisherman from the town.

"What are you doing here? Is your dad home?" Brian asked as he walked over.

"Dad's gone to town; he's not home," Ron replied, immediately catching the smell of fish as Brian approached.

"Uncle Brian, did you need something from Dad?"

"Haha, not really. I just had a good catch on this trip and came by to give him a fish," Brian said with a laugh.

Hearing this, Ron's eyes lit up.

He walked up to Brian and looked up at him, asking, "Uncle Brian, do you have any old fishing nets you don't need?"

"Old fishing nets..." Brian was taken aback by the sudden question. After thinking for a moment, he replied, "I've got some damaged ones in the storage shed. What do you need them for?"

"Can I have them?"

Ron asked expectantly.

"Sure, I don't mind, but what are you going to do with broken nets?"

"Fishing."

"Fishing? You won't catch anything with those old nets, but if you want them, you can come by and pick them up later."

"Thank you, Uncle Brian. And please don't mention this to Dad."

"Alright."

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T/N:

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