Giving Every Yandere Villainess Her Happy Ending!

The trainer, who introduced himself as Nicholas, didn’t waste time on pleasantries. He ran me through a basic assessment first: push-ups, bodyweight squats, a timed lap around the track.

By the end of it, I was wheezing like a man twice my age and half my constitution.

”Pathetic.”

Nicholas said, although not unkindly. Then scribbled something on his clipboard.

’So he did use it after all.’

”Your body’s been sitting on its ass for eighteen years. Muscles are underdeveloped. Stamina’s nonexistent. You’re carrying about fifteen pounds of extra weight, mostly in the gut and face.”

”Could’ve told you that myself.”

”Then why didn’t you fix it?”

I didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t sound insane. The old Reyn didn’t fix it because he didn’t care. I didn’t fix it because I’d only been in this body for two days.

Nicholas took my silence as contrition and moved on.

”Alright, here’s the plan. Three sets of basic compound movements with light weights. Between each set, you’re going to jog one lap around the track. If your head starts hurting, you stop immediately and use that light magic of yours. Understood?”

”Understood.”

✧ ✦ ✧

The next two hours were a special kind of hell.

His definition of ”light weights” apparently differed significantly from what any reasonable person would consider light.

By the third set of squats, my thighs were burning.

By the fifth lap around the track, the healing spell I’d kept active beneath my shirt was working overtime just to keep me upright.

But I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down.

Partly because Nicholas was watching me like a hawk. And mostly because I refused to let this body stay weak a second longer than necessary.

The other students were watching too. I caught fragments of whispered conversations as I jogged past the sparring arena.

”—is that actually Reyn Brimstone?”

”—heard he got hospitalized—”

”—probably some scheme to impress Lady Rose—”

I tuned them out. Reputation wasn’t built in a day, and the old Reyn had dug himself a crater so deep that only consistent action would climb him out of it.

And consistent action was exactly what I did. Because, as it turned out, magic wasn’t called magic for no reason.

It was a cheat code.

And for working out...

Light magic was the best cheat you could get.

Anytime I nearly toppled over, I doubled the mana consumption on my healing magic. When my muscles started burning and refused to push out another rep, I tripled it.

Even with this weak body, light magic was strong enough as a force multiplier that I managed to finish everything without taking a single break.

And if you added my previous experience as an army man?

This was nothing...

”By Ponaros, God of Labour, how the hell...?”

Nicholas stared down at me as I lay flat on the ground.

Even magic had its limits. My mana consumption for the most basic healing spell had nearly quintupled past the normal amount.

”H-How’s that, huh?”

I laughed out loud, though it sounded more like the groan of a sentient corpse than anything human.

Nicholas only responded with sheer awe.

”How? You’re asking me how? What you just did was superhuman for someone with your body type! A literal miracle of both physical and magical capability!”

Nicholas squatted beside me, wiping the sweat from my body before handing me a waterskin. At the same time, he scribbled even more information onto his clipboard.

”You’re lucky people haven’t paid much attention to you beyond calling you worthless. Otherwise, the head trainer would’ve scouted you a long time ago, kid...”

He helped me stand as the other students began clustering back into their squares for the progress assessment. But Nicholas seemed to decide on his own to excuse me from it.

”Don’t worry. I’ll vouch for you. You deserve some rest after that.”

But before he could leave, I tapped him on the shoulder. A good reputation was useful, and this was one of the easiest ways to start building one.

If I became known as someone who pushed through absurd training without stopping, introducing myself to future villainesses would be much easier.

The problem was that reputation worked both ways.

Which meant also making myself a target.

And I still wasn’t confident I could survive, or avoid, another knuckleduster-to-the-head incident.

Right now, if I wanted a good reputation, I’d need to build it slowly. No over-the-top vouching, not yet. I’d only allow that once I’m certain I’m more than capable of handling the repercussions.

”D-Don’t. I’d rather keep a low profile for now...”

Nicholas looked at me for a moment, then nodded.

”Not in it for the reputation, huh? I can respect that.”

Looks like he got the wrong idea...

But I don’t really care about fixing it. It works for me, I guess.

Instead of reporting directly to the head trainer, he turned toward a normal higher-ranked trainer standing off to the side. And the man looked more than a little confused by the sight of someone actually vouching for the infamous Reyn Brimstone.

”How much did he pay you, Nicholas?”

Nicholas shook his head.

”Nothing. Trust me, this kid did more than enough work.”

Nicholas handed over his clipboard. And then the trainer studied it with a skeptical frown before deciding to let both of us go.

With him already planning to review the notes and cross-check them with any other trainers who might have witnessed my training to validate the progress.

”Fine, feel free to escort him out while you’re at it. If your notes are real, then Lord Brimstone should be half-dead from the strain already...”