The All-Rounder: Mastery Began with a Bow

"How many days do you think he'll last?"

A few young men gathered during their break, stealing glances toward Leo while whispering among themselves.

"Two days at best."

"Two? I give him one. Didn't you notice? He's barely been out here for an hour, and he can't even lift his right arm properly. If you ask me, he'll quit by this afternoon."

"That reminds me, when I first trained with the bow, I couldn't even hold a bowl that night. Fingers were shredded."

"Heh, same here. Honestly, spear training's way easier. If only we had real guns…"

One guy chuckled like an idiot.

"In your dreams. Guns? Those bastards hoarding the supplies have inflated the prices sky-high. One tiny bullet costs enough grain to feed a family."

Their conversation drifted, and the topic soon moved away from Leo.

But the truth was, Leo really was reaching his limit.

His body had never been strong. Every full draw of the bow demanded everything he had. After more than ten shots, his right arm trembled uncontrollably, like it no longer responded to him at all.

Still, there was one thing going for him.

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Status Panel: Skill: Basic Archery – Lv.0 (28%)

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One of his shots had landed just a finger's width from the bullseye, granting him a hefty 5% boost in progress.

Leo inhaled deeply and lifted his aching arm again, trying to draw the bow.

This time, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't fully pull the string. His arms gave out midway, and the arrow flopped out weakly, landing just a few meters ahead.

"You dense or something? Can't move your arm and still forcing it?"

Zach's voice rang out across the range.

Leo turned back with an awkward smile. "You're right, Uncle Zach. I'll take a break."

He sighed, slightly defeated. 'I really want to grind it to 100%, but this body just won't let me.'

"Come over here. I'll fix up your arm a bit."

Zach's voice called again.

Even Leo froze for a second. The other boys nearby all stared at him with wide eyes, their expressions screaming: Wait, we never got that kind of treatment!

"Tch." Zach rolled his eyes at them. "What, you think you were training back then? Weak as wet noodles. Looked more like you were fluffing cotton than shooting arrows."

Their faces flushed red in embarrassment.

Sure, maybe they'd slacked off a bit, but it wasn't like their arms hadn't gone numb too!

"Uncle Zach, you really don't have to—" Leo started.

"If you want to end up unable to pull your pants up after taking a shit, be my guest."

Leo flinched. "Right. I'll shut up now."

"Good. Less whining, more fixing."

Zach limped over with his usual muttering, gruff as ever—but anyone with a brain could hear the concern behind his tone.

Leo offered up his arm, and within seconds, a soothing heat spread through his muscles. The soreness faded bit by bit, and control gradually returned to his fingertips.

It lasted nearly twenty minutes. Each time Leo tried to pull back, Zach gave him a deadly glare that shut him up instantly.

When it was finally done, Leo lowered his arm, flustered. "Thank you… that really helped."

Zach waved a hand. "Compared to everything your dad's done for this place? This is nothing."

Leo froze for a moment, slowly understanding.

Zach wasn't talking about the massage—he meant how Grant, Leo's father, had kept this whole settlement alive, giving everyone, young or old, a chance to survive.

"Kid," Zach said suddenly, glancing at the longbow in Leo's hand, "listen up. Archery isn't easy. Even if you master it, things won't go your way in the wild. The targets move. They charge. They kill."

Leo met his eyes. "I get it, Uncle Zach. But if I give up now, wouldn't that make everything I've done so far meaningless?"

He was already close to 30%. Quitting would reset all the progress, all the pain. And he'd have to start over again.

"...Fair point."

Zach nodded, grunted something about "slow and steady," and walked off.

The other boys nearby, however, weren't so lucky.

Leo looked at Zach's retreating back and thought, 'He talks like a grumpy old bastard, always cursing… but he's sharp. Thoughtful. If his leg wasn't busted, he'd probably be my father's right hand.'

He exhaled softly, picked up his bow again, and stepped toward the target.

One shot after another.

To others, it was boring repetition. Endless. Tedious. Without visible payoff.

But to Leo, every well-aimed arrow meant more progress. The closer he hit, the more experience he gained. That kind of feedback was addictive.

Even the pain dulled in comparison.

Zach watched quietly from afar, then gave a small nod.

"I underestimated the kid," he muttered. "That attitude—wanting every shot to count—there's no one else here like that. Maybe he'll actually last."

Time crawled on.

Around noon, Leo headed home for lunch. Though calling it "lunch" was generous—just another bowl of watery porridge, the same as last night.

But when his mother learned he'd been training archery, she quietly added an extra scoop into his bowl.

"Leo… if it's too hard, you can stop for now."

Her voice trembled slightly as she looked at his swollen, red fingers.

She was proud—deeply—but also scared. If both her husband and son were out hunting together… and something happened… what would she do, left alone with just a child?

But Leo only smiled.

"It's not hard at all."

Truth be told, he was enjoying it.

He downed the porridge in seconds, grabbed his gear, and rushed back out—leaving behind a worried mother and a very confused little brother.

"'There's no time to waste. Every second matters.'"

The settlement was already hanging by a thread. One more bad event, and it could all fall apart.

And if life had taught him anything—it was that trouble never came alone.

As he walked, Leo opened his status panel once more.

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Status Panel: Skill: Basic Archery – Lv.0 (52%)

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'If nothing goes wrong… I'll hit Level 1 before sunset.'

'And when I do… something big will change. I can feel it.'