49: Chapter 49 Hell Week
The next day.
Before the sun had fully risen, the piercing sound of the assembly whistle tore through the pre-dawn silence of the Special Recruitment Camp.
When Wang Pingan pushed open the door—which had been temporarily repaired but remained twisted and deformed—the corridor was already empty.
He stretched his muscles and bones, feeling the surging, turbulent power within him that was worlds apart from yesterday, and began walking unhurriedly toward the training grounds.
After Thunderstorm left last night, he had spent some time adapting to his body as a Third-Rank Martial Artist, and while he was at it, he squandered another portion of the pay-to-win points on his personal panel.
He didn't use them to upgrade the five basic attributes that had already reached the limits of the human body; instead, he turned his gaze toward those martial arts techniques that had been gathering dust for a long time.
【Basic Fist Technique: Perfection】
【Basic Footwork: Perfection】
【Basic Breathing Technique: Perfection】
...
In one go, he boosted every basic skill he could to the Perfection realm.
Nearly a thousand pay-to-win points evaporated instantly, but in exchange, he gained a leap in his ability to control his own power.
Only now could he be considered to have truly touched the threshold of a Third-Rank Martial Artist.
...
On the massive open-air training ground, over a thousand Students had already lined up in square formations.
When Wang Pingan's figure appeared at the entrance...
Shua!
Almost simultaneously, over a thousand gazes converged squarely upon him.
The emotions contained within those gazes were incredibly complex.
There was undisguised schadenfreude.
There was the playful anticipation of watching a good show.
There was pure curiosity.
In the crowd, Cold stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at Wang Pingan coldly.
The two lackeys beside him didn't even bother with basic concealment; the gloating smiles on their faces were wider than anyone's.
“He's here, he's here! The protagonist has arrived!”
“Tsk tsk, how long do you think he can last under Peak Third Grade training intensity today? I bet ten minutes!”
“Ten minutes? You think too highly of him! With that frame of his, it's obvious he's been hollowed out by wine and women. I bet he'll be crying and begging for mercy within five minutes!”
All sorts of malicious whispers spread through the ranks without restraint.
No one lowered their volume.
They wanted Wang Pingan to hear them.
They wanted to use this method to vent the twisted imbalance deep in their hearts caused by jealousy.
However, facing this wave of malice...
Wang Pingan's expression remained as calm as a deep, still well.
He didn't even lift his eyelids an extra inch as he walked straight to his position and stood tall, his posture as steady as a mountain over an abyss.
His completely unfazed and composed demeanor made many who had expected to see him in a panic feel as if they had punched a bale of cotton—an indescribable sense of frustration.
Right then.
Thunderstorm's figure appeared out of thin air atop the high platform.
His emotionless eyes swept across the field like a hawk's, and all the noisy chatter vanished instantly.
“No more nonsense.”
“Today's training officially begins!”
Thunderstorm's voice reached every corner of the training ground through the amplification equipment.
“Routine training: Everyone, one hundred kilograms weight, five-thousand-meter cross-country run in full gear! The bottom ten percent will have their lunch canceled!”
As the order was given, bitter expressions appeared on the faces of most Students.
Damn it, this is only the first day!
The intensity is already maxed out?
Thunderstorm completely ignored the wails of the rookies below; his gaze landed precisely on Wang Pingan.
The corner of his mouth curled into a cruel arc that made everyone's scalp tingle.
“Wang Pingan!”
“Step out!”
Hearing this, Wang Pingan walked out of the ranks expressionlessly.
“Your ‘congratulatory gift’ will now be redeemed.”
Thunderstorm pointed to a row of specially made weight vests nearby that shimmered with a metallic luster. (Forgive the author, I really don't know how to write about devilish training, just enjoy the ride.)
“Go, put on that five-hundred-kilogram one.”
Boom!
An uncontrollable exclamation erupted from the crowd.
Five hundred kilograms!
That thing was less of a vest and more of a solid lump of iron!
Never mind running ten thousand meters in it; if an ordinary person put it on, their bones would likely be crushed to splinters on the spot!
Under countless gazes of sympathy, pity, and even more schadenfreude, Wang Pingan silently walked over and put on the terrifyingly heavy weight vest.
The moment the vest touched his body, the ground beneath his feet sank slightly.
“Very good.”
Thunderstorm was very satisfied with his cooperation.
He snapped his fingers.
Wong—
An invisible force field instantly enveloped the area where Wang Pingan stood.
Wang Pingan felt the surrounding air become incredibly thick in that instant. A terrifying pressure squeezed him from all sides, causing the blood and qi in his body to stagnate.
Ten times gravity!
“Your task: Under ten times gravity, carrying five hundred kilograms, complete a ten-thousand-meter rapid march.”
Thunderstorm's voice was like a demon's whisper.
“Timing starts now!”
“If you don't finish, you know the consequences.”
Inside the gravity field.
Wang Pingan felt the pressure as heavy as a mountain and took a deep breath.
The next second.
He moved.
He began to run, working his legs.
His first step was incredibly heavy and difficult.
As his sole hit the ground, it made a dull "thud," leaving a clear footprint in the earth.
His body swayed violently due to the massive pressure and weight; he looked as if he might collapse at any moment.
“Hahaha! Look! He's already about to fail!”
“That was only the first step! I told you he was just a flashy spearhead with no substance!”
In the stands, Cold's lackeys couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Most of the surrounding Students also wore "as expected" expressions.
However.
The second step.
The third step.
Wang Pingan's movements remained clumsy and heavy.
But he did not fall.
He moved forward step by step at an extremely slow but exceptionally steady pace.
Beads of sweat the size of beans began to seep from his forehead and slide down his cheeks.
His breathing became heavy, each gasp bringing out a puff of white mist.
His face turned flush red due to the immense exertion and the pumping of blood into his muscles.
It looked as though he was giving it his absolute all.
It looked as though he was on the verge of collapse.
He was like an old machine that could fall apart at any moment, operating tenaciously while emitting groans of being overburdened.
One lap.
Two laps.
Time passed minute by minute.
On the training ground, the smiles on the faces of the Students who had been waiting for a joke gradually, bit by bit, froze.
The "eye candy" who they thought would surely fall within five minutes had now finished three thousand meters.
His speed wasn't fast.
One could even say it was very slow.
But he maintained that frequency—a frequency that looked like it would break at any second, yet never did.
He was like a precision metronome; every stride's distance and every breath's rhythm were controlled at a constant value.
Only Wang Pingan knew that his current state was nowhere near as pathetic as it appeared on the surface.
【Eye of Truth】, activate!
In his vision, the entire world transformed into an ocean composed of data streams.
The pressure values of the gravity field on every bone in his body.
The load of the weight vest on his spine and joints.
The fatigue level of his muscle fibers.
The frequency of his heartbeat.
The consumption rate of his blood and qi.
Everything was presented in his mind in the most intuitive way possible.
He was like a top-tier engineer, monitoring this incredibly precise "machine" of his in real-time.
Using the Basic Footwork he had just upgraded to the Perfection realm, he distributed that terrifying pressure across every part of his body in an extremely clever manner.
Using the Perfection realm Breathing Technique, he precisely controlled every breath, allowing every gulp of oxygen to exert its maximum efficiency.
He funneled the blood and qi in his body to the most necessary muscle groups in an almost stingily efficient way.
He looked like he was sweating buckets and panting like a bull.
That was merely the optimal performance he put on to maintain body heat dissipation and provide enough oxygen.
He looked pathetic and nearly exhausted.
That was just a "protective color" he deliberately acted out to mislead the spectators.
Doing it with ease.
These four words were the most accurate description of his current state!
Five thousand meters.
Eight thousand meters.
When Wang Pingan's figure appeared on the final thousand-meter stretch...
The entire training ground had fallen into a dead silence.
Everyone had stopped their own training, staring blankly at that figure who was still running.
In their eyes, there was no longer any of the previous contempt or mockery.
They finally realized.
They might have been wrong about this person from the very beginning.
Finally.
Under the watch of countless gazes.
Wang Pingan's heavy footsteps crossed the finish line.
The moment he crossed the finish line, he seemed to have exhausted his last bit of strength; his legs gave way and he collapsed forward, kneeling on one knee and supporting himself with his hands on the ground while gasping for air.
Sweat soaked a patch of the ground beneath him.
He finished it.
Under circumstances everyone deemed impossible, he had actually completed this hellish training!
Though his posture was pathetic to the extreme.
He had finished!
This fact made everyone who had been waiting to laugh at him feel as if their cheeks were burning with pain.
Cold's handsome face was now so dark it looked like it was about to drip ink.
Atop the high platform.
Thunderstorm looked at the figure kneeling on the ground with a slightly trembling body; his fierce face still showed no expression.
He slowly walked down from the platform, step by step, until he reached Wang Pingan and looked down at him.
The atmosphere of the entire training ground became oppressive to the extreme at this moment.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for the Chief Instructor's final "verdict."
Just when everyone thought Thunderstorm would offer a few symbolic words of praise and then announce the end of today's "extra meal"...
Thunderstorm spoke.
His voice wasn't loud, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly.
“Warm-up finished.”
What?
Warm-up?
This was only a fucking warm-up?!
Everyone's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
Thunderstorm completely ignored the crowd's shock as he slowly raised his hand, pointing to a youth in the crowd who was the most burly and robust, built like an iron tower.
“Next item: Combat sparring.”
“Wang Pingan, your opponent is—”
“Iron Bull!”