2026-08-12 17:06:47Chapter 4: Physical Limits
The girl with the camera loomed in the hallway, her thumb hovering over the ‘Send’ button. Bagas felt the [SYSTEM REBOOT] countdown flickering like a dying strobe light: 0:45… 0:44…
"You’re really going to blackmail me?" Bagas asked, his voice cracking.
"Blackmail is such an ugly word," the girl countered, her eyes scanning the hallway. "I prefer ‘information exchange.’ Spill, Bagas. How’d you do it? The moves, the charm, the sway over Pak Hadi? It didn't look like teenage rebellion."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Bagas stammered, his body feeling like a statue made of wet clay.
"Don't lie. I saw you pivot. You were a different person," she insisted. "People don't just change their entire personality because they’re hungry for lunch. You’re holding out, and I’m losing patience."
0:30… The violet numbers burned. Bagas’s vision surged with a new prompt.
[SYSTEM ALERT: REBOOT COMPLETE. NEW SKILL ACQUIRED: EXTREME STRENGTH. PENALTY: COORDINATION.EXE CORRUPTED.]
"Look, I can't talk right now," Bagas said, his legs twitching violently as he tried to take a step. He misjudged the distance, his foot slamming into a solid steel locker with the force of a wrecking ball. The metal buckled inward with a sound like a gunshot.
"Whoa!" The girl jumped back, her phone wobbling. "Did you just kick a hole in the locker?"
"I… I didn't mean to," Bagas gasped, his brain screaming in panic. He tried to reach out to steady himself against the wall, but his hand miscalculated, smashing into a solid concrete pillar. The concrete groaned, dusting over his knuckles.
"What are you? A mutant?" she whispered, her voice shifting from blackmail to genuine fear.
"I’m a disaster," Bagas groaned, his limbs feeling like heavy, uncalibrated machinery. "Go away! I’m going to hurt someone!"
He lurched forward, his momentum too great, his balance non-existent. He stumbled into the gym—the only place he could think to retreat to where the equipment might withstand his accidental force.
*
Inside, the gym was sparse, save for a few students prepping for the afternoon sports period. The scent of rubber mats and sweat hung heavy in the air.
"Bagas? What’s with the entrance?" Siska was standing by the weight rack, her eyes lighting up as she saw him. She moved toward him with that same predatory grace she’d shown in the cafeteria.
"Siska, stay back!" Bagas warned, his voice straining. "I’m not… calibrated."
"You’re acting strange again," she purred, ignoring him and closing the distance. "I like it. It’s mysterious."
"No, really, stay away," he pleaded. He reached for a barbell to steady himself, his fingers curling around the iron. SNAP. The steel bar didn't just bend; it sheared into two pieces under his grip like a dry twig.
The gym went deathly quiet.
"Did you just break a professional-grade barbell?" Siska asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "That weighs forty-five pounds, Bagas."
"I think I need a break," Bagas muttered, his knees knocking together—an involuntary tremor that shook the very floorboards.
Pak Dono, the gym teacher, strode over, his whistle swinging wildly. "What in the hell is going on here? Bagas? What’s with the equipment?"
"It’s... brittle, sir," Bagas offered, his hands trembling.
"Brittle? That’s tempered steel, you moron!" Pak Dono barked, grabbing the broken ends of the bar. "Are you on steroids? What kind of prank is this?"
"No steroids, sir. Just… a high-protein breakfast," Bagas said, trying to stand straight, but he immediately tipped forward, his shoulder slamming into a rowing machine and sending it skidding five feet across the room.
"Get over here," Pak Dono growled, his face reddening. "You want to show off? Fine. Pick up that deadlift bar. The heavy one. Three hundred pounds. Let’s see how 'strong' you really are."
"I really shouldn't," Bagas whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Do it!" Siska challenged, her eyes burning with intensity. "Show him what you’re made of, Bagas."
"Please, Siska," Bagas begged, his eyes pleading. "I can't control it."
"I want to see it," she murmured, stepping closer, her presence a dangerous temptation. "I want to see exactly how strong you are."
Bagas felt the system pulse. A red prompt flashed: [STRENGTH OUTPUT: 100%. COORDINATION: 0%. WARNING: LETHAL FORCE IMMINENT.]
He walked toward the heavy iron plates, his gait erratic, his feet punching holes in the synthetic floor mats.
"Just lift it, kid," Pak Dono sneered. "Or get out of my gym and go to the principal’s office permanently."
Bagas gripped the bar. His muscles coiled like steel cables, a raw, terrifying power surging through his nerves. He didn't lift the bar; he ripped it from the floor with a roar of effort. The iron groaned, the floor cracked beneath his heels, and for a split second, he held three hundred pounds over his head like it was a plastic toy.
"My god," Siska breathed, her hand going to her mouth.
"I can't... I can't hold it!" Bagas yelled. His lack of coordination hit him like a physical blow. He lost his footing, his body spinning out of control.
"Look out!" Rina, who had just stepped into the gym, screamed.
Bagas lurched, his massive strength throwing the barbell sideways. He tried to correct, but his legs spasmed, sending him stumbling backward. The heavy steel weight plummeted, slicing through the air with a terrifying whistle.
It slammed into the rack right next to Siska’s head, denting the floor and sending shards of wood flying like shrapnel.
Siska didn't move, her eyes wide, staring at the crater the weight had left in the ground.
Bagas collapsed, his face drenched in cold sweat. "I... I warned you."
Pak Dono stood frozen, his whistle falling from his mouth. "Bagas... what are you?"
Bagas clutched his leg, feigning a sharp, agonizing cry. "My ankle! I think I snapped it!"
"Don't touch me!" he shouted as the school nurse ran toward him. He had to get out. He had to reboot.
He scrambled toward the door, his movements a grotesque display of brute, unguided power. As he reached the exit, he heard Siska’s voice behind him, chillingly calm.
"You aren't a student, Bagas. And you're definitely not a breakdancer. Who are you really working for?"
Bagas didn't turn back. He burst through the gym doors, the system screaming a new, terrifying alert:
[CRITICAL ERROR: HIDDEN POTENTIAL DETECTED. SECRET AGENT SUB-ROUTINE ACTIVATING. PREPARE FOR INTEGRATION.]
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