On Saturday morning, Chicago saw a rare glimpse of the sun.
Sunlight stread through the high windows of the warehouse, casting patches of golden light onto the floor of the South Side Iron Gym.
Shane sat on a chair, using his precious mobile data to refresh his bank account page.
The numbers coming in were still delightful.
Although course sales hadn't exploded instantly due to the initial traffic spike, they were growing steadily. In particular, the $9.99 upgrade course that included al plans had beco his absolute best-seller.
He did a rough calculation. Relying on this wave of traffic to sell online courses, after deducting the necessary processing fees, his net inco had already firmly exceeded $1,300.
"No wonder those influencers in my past life kept selling courses even while getting roasted," Shane muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth lifting uncontrollably.
"This money... it feels fucking great."
Although this kind of heat, driven purely by controversy and looks, wouldn't last too long, the taste of the first pot of gold was sweet enough. Plus, he still had YouTube videos he hadn't posted yet.
He glanced at the YouTube page on the laptop next to him. His newly created "South Side Iron Gym" channel already had over 100 subscribers.
Underneath his teaser video post on Facebook, a crowd of professional skeptics and trolls just looking for a show had already gathered.
"Waiting for the debunk video, you Photoshop dog!"
"Next week? You an you're deleting your account and running away next week, right?"
"I bet 10 bucks he won't dare lift heavy weights in the video. It'll just be light dumbbell rowing the whole ti. I've seen plenty of these fakes!"
Looking at the one-sided mockery and provocation under the post, Shane didn't feel angry. Instead, he looked forward to it even more.
Controversy is traffic. Curses are engagent. Even hate-watching is still watching!
Next week, he would release the "Persona" video first, showcasing the environnt of the South Side Iron Gym, his personal training philosophy, and adding a tone of gritty, bottom-of-the-barrel inspiration.
A few days later, he would release the instructional video. It would be full of straight facts and technical explanations. Then, at the very end of the video, he would casually pan the cara to Kevin, who would be huffing and puffing in the corner, leaving a cliffhanger.
The final step would be the "Comparison" video. He would slap Kevin's "pre-historic fat" state right next to the post-training results, pair it with so pumping music, and complete a three-hit combo to squeeze every last drop out of this wave of controversial traffic.
Just as Shane was considering whether to switch to a more intense BGM...
Knock, knock, knock.
The warehouse door was rapped.
"Co in."
The door opened, and Danny stood there carrying his sports bag. "Hello, Coach."
"Hey. Go get changed and warm up."
"Shane, I'm leaving Danny in your hands. At noon, just send him to the subway station and let him take the train ho himself," Dave's voice drifted in.
"Okay, no problem," Shane replied.
The original plan was for Dave to pick him up at noon, but Dave felt a round trip was too much trouble and would require taking ti off from the construction site.
So, he simply added a bit more money as a "fare" for Shane to drop Danny off at the subway.
Shane looked at Danny. Compared to his first visit, there was sothing more in the kid's eyes. It wasn't complete timidity anymore. He was a good seed.
More importantly, watching Danny warm up seriously, Shane thought, This kid has perseverance. If he gets results, his story (West Side student South Side coach) will have more penetrating power than Kevin's transformation. It might hit the anxiety points of so middle-class families regarding their children, expanding my user base.
But this couldn't be rushed.
Shane knew very well that in 2010, people's attitudes toward putting children's training videos online weren't as open as they would beco later.
So parents saw it as docunting progress, while others saw it as a privacy risk.
He had to get familiar first, build enough trust. Later, when Danny showed results and Dave and Eileen trusted Shane more, he could try casually bringing it up. The success rate would be higher then.
Or if that really didn't work, he could find other subjects. The South Side never lacked potential stocks wanting to change their bodies.
He pulled back his thoughts as the door connecting to the bar on the other side of the warehouse was pushed open. Kevin walked in.
"Hey, didn't be late, right? The weather is fucking beautiful today. Perfect for sweating."
Shane looked Kevin up and down. The spare tire around his waist was tighter, and the contours of his face were a bit clearer.
"Since you're in such high spirits, add two extra sets to your core training today. Otherwise, that fat on your belly will keep clinging to you."
"Oh, Jesus. I shouldn't have spoken."
Kevin wailed, but he consciously walked to the corner to start warming up.
"Alright," Shane stood up and clapped his hands.
"Danny, you sync up with Kevin's endurance sets today. Watch Kevin's movents, pay attention to his stability and breath control."
Shane raised the cara and aid it at Kevin. "Okay, training starts now."
---
anwhile, Fiona was driving the van, with Lip sitting in the passenger seat. He held his phone, texting soone unknown.
His laptop was resting on his knees. Aside from selling breakfast these past few days, he was using every spare mont to do so coding work. The words Shane said that night had really stimulated him; he wanted to earn more money to prove himself.
"Lip," Fiona turned her head to look at him while waiting for a red light.
"I've been thinking. How about we stop the food truck? We've made enough these past few days. Let's stop starting tomorrow."
Lip looked up at her, a face full of confusion. "Are you sure? We've only been doing this for less than half a week! Since we started using the truck, our profits are up nearly 20%. You're willing to just let that go?"
Lip put away his phone, shoved it into his pocket, and woke up his computer. He pulled up the inco data from the last few days into a chart so Fiona could see it more intuitively.
"Fiona, Shane's version of 'stability' is sitting in a basent taking muscle photos and making more in a day than we do in a week. What is our stability? Guarding that broken stall, depending on the weather for food, and waiting to be squeezed out by other vendors!"
Lip had seen the notifications of Shane collecting money; after all, he was maintaining the webpage.
"He wants to rent a shop? With what money? By us selling a few dozen extra burgers every day? Monday is the best opportunity. We take this risk once, and what we earn could be a month's rent for a shop. Do you want to listen to his plans forever, or do you want to actually grasp sothing for yourself?"
Fiona's tone was full of worry. "It's not just because of Shane, Lip. I just don't feel settled. We're too conspicuous. Marcus warned just now, saying those old vendors are looking at us weirdly. The food truck steals more business than the stall. If they really report us, it'll be way more trouble than thugs looking for a fight."
As her voice trailed off, Lip's brows knitted together tightly.
Did he know these risks? Of course he did. He knew the trouble involved better than Fiona.
But asking him to give up this fat piece of at that was so easy to eat... it was impossible (mostly because he didn't want to follow a certain soone's... orders).
His brain began to calculate rapidly, weighing the options.
Aside from the Gallagher family's greed for quick cash, his arrogance regarding his own intelligence was quietly at play.
Lip was silent for a while before finally speaking. "Listen, Fiona. Monday. Just next Monday. We work that one day and then stop. How about that?"
Seeing Fiona about to refuse, he imdiately added:
"Monday morning has the biggest traffic flow, you know that. We scoop up one last pile, and then we honestly go back to guarding our original stall, okay? Consider it saving the final startup capital for our upcoming 'Store Era'."
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