"Kevin, if you don't do as you're told, you don't need to come home tonight." V's supervising voice drifted over.
Kevin could only scramble up indignantly and start another round of stumbling shuttle runs.
With every step he took, the waves of flesh on his body surged, especially around his chest and abdomen—the visual effect was incredibly tumultuous.
Shane, meanwhile, held the video camera steady, capturing every vivid detail of Kevin's body, as well as the painful yet hilarious expressions on his face.
Finally, the run was over. Kevin leaned against the wall, looking like he was about to vomit.
Shane kicked a bucket over to him, then picked up a bottle of mineral water.
"Thanks!" Kevin thought the water was for him to drink. He reached for it, but Shane dodged his hand and splashed half the bottle directly onto Kevin's sweaty upper body.
"Just adding a little production value."
"Oh shit, that's freezing!" Kevin hopped around a few times from the cold water shock, looking like a vampire splashed with holy water.
V laughed from the doorway, clapping her hands. "Hahaha, if you ask me, Shane, you're not fitness training, you're performing an exorcism."
Shane looked through the lens. After adding the water, Kevin's skin took on an oily sheen under the lights, highlighting the contours and folds of his fat even more clearly.
Anyone looking at this would have to say: That is truly a prime cut of pork.
"Perfect," Shane evaluated.
He had already thought of the voiceover to add in post-production: "This is a body resulting from long-term lack of exercise, soaked in alcohol and fast food."
Kevin's current state was the perfect visualization of a "useless fat guy." Shane could already imagine the impact of the video once Kevin slimmed down.
Only then did he hand the remaining half bottle of water to Kevin.
Kevin took the water and downed it in one breath, his expression looking like he wanted to cry but had no tears left. "Why do I feel like I'm a slab of dripping fat right now? The kind that just got defrosted."
V: "Baby, don't feel bad. At least you're very glossy right now. You look like you're ready to be processed in a high-end restaurant."
Shane didn't let Kevin rest for too long before starting the next step. "Alright, now give me 30 jumping jacks."
"30?!" Kevin wailed aloud.
Shane nodded. "Yes, 30. It's already nice of me not to make you do a full minute."
"Can we do 20? You can see, I'm currently... if you make me jump 30 times, I feel like I'm really going to die here today."
"10."
"You agree?" Kevin's eyes lit up; he thought Shane had agreed to his request.
"I said add 10 more."
"You mother..." Terrified that Shane would add even more, Kevin immediately started the jumping jacks.
With every jump and landing, the fat all over his body jiggled in unison.
Shane deliberately lowered the camera, shooting from a low angle to capture the shaking and drooping of his belly as he jumped. The visual impact was intense.
If he took a screenshot of this frame and used it as the video thumbnail, it would be hard for viewers not to click on it.
Finally, he finished. This time, Kevin collapsed directly onto the floor, the fat on his body pulled down by gravity like a puddle of melting butter.
"Is... is it over? The training later won't be this intense every day, right?" Kevin asked Shane, holding onto a glimmer of hope.
Shane was reviewing the footage and didn't even look up.
"What are you thinking? Kevin, this is nothing. What you just did doesn't even count as a formal warm-up. At most, it just helps wake up your muscles and cardiopulmonary function that have been asleep for so long."
Kevin rolled his eyes in fright at these words and let out another miserable scream. "Oh, shit. I really wish I had never agreed to this crap."
V walked over at this moment and kicked Kevin's calf.
"Alright, Mr. Michelin. All your exercise now is contributing to your future muscles. Just think about how handsome it will be when you compare these two scenes after you slim down."
Kevin lay on the ground, groaning. "Right now, I only feel like a pig about to be sent to the slaughterhouse... Also, I think I need to write a will."
...
Time moved on to dinner.
Knock, knock, knock.
Eddie, back from work, knocked on his own front door.
Sheila, wearing an apron, walked over and opened the door.
Meanwhile, Shane climbed out of Karen's bedroom window, looking refreshed. He looked back and waved to Karen.
Karen, her hair a bit messy, blew him a kiss.
"Go on, hurry. Don't let my dad see you."
Shane skillfully jumped to the ground, put a cigarette in his mouth, and walked home.
When he returned to the Gallagher house, it was just dinner time.
At the dining table, Fiona was placing a pot in the center, and the others were taking their seats one after another.
Lip, however, was hunched in a corner of the table, refusing to let go of his computer.
"Shane," Fiona said with one hand on her hip, pointing at Lip with a spoon.
"Say something to him. That computer has become his new organ. He even takes it into the bathroom. Did you install some chip inside to control him?"
Before Shane could speak, Lip retorted first:
"I'm working and making money. And I'm working for Shane. I'm helping him process his pile of stupid digital lottery tickets."
Shane sat down and took the plate Debbie handed him. "Thanks, little housekeeper."
Then he looked at Lip. "What? How did my digital lottery tickets offend you?"
Lip finally deigned to lift his head and look at Shane.
"This Bitcoin is simply the most stupid, anti-human thing of the century. Its download process is more troublesome than me helping Kevin file taxes. I've only downloaded 20 to the computer so far. at this speed, spending your 'sucker fund' will probably take until next year."
Shane didn't think much of it. He scooped up a spoonful of stew, tasted it, and then said to Lip:
"No rush, take your time. But, if you can download it to the local hard drive, download as much as possible. Try not to keep it in the platform's online wallet."
"Ha, speaking of that," Lip perked up a bit.
"I was just about to tell you. Do you know how slow the download process to the local drive is? If it weren't for you insisting I download them, I could have helped you buy over 100 today."
"How about this: I'll help you spend your money quickly first, and just store them in those platform wallets for now. Then, whenever I go to McDonald's or Starbucks to leech off their free WiFi, I'll help you download them all. Fast and easy."
What Lip was suggesting was actually the common practice of most Bitcoin players in this era.
In late 2010, no one truly took its value seriously yet, so naturally, few people were willing to expend the effort to manage cumbersome local wallets.
Right now, basically everyone left it on the platform for convenience.
Of course, it wasn't until after those few famous incidents that shocked the circle in 2011 that many people began to learn how to safeguard their own private keys.
Shane swallowed the food in his mouth, remembering the chronicle of cryptocurrency he bought from the system store last night. It mentioned that the nearest major publicized case of missing Bitcoin from a platform was in August 2011.
Although the report was from that time, there was evidence suggesting that hackers had been secretly siphoning personal Bitcoins from the platform for months prior.
Shane thought for a moment. "Leaving it on the platform is okay, but by February of next year at the latest, you must download everything to the local hard drive for me. Then you can help me transfer it to my computer, or I'll give you a hard drive then, and you can transfer it in."
After speaking, Shane focused on eating. Between recording the course and training today, he was starving.
Lip, on the side, widened his eyes.