Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
However, as the Gene Chain was activated, wild desires surged in his mind. If he were to confront the Zerg on the battlefield, he would be unwavering until death. Yet, the Gene Chain posed a serious problem for lower-tier organisms: their stamina rapidly diminished.
At that moment, Freyr was sprinting across the field, his wild energy bursting forth like a spring. However, his stamina was draining away as quickly as a dam releasing water. This pace clearly couldn't be sustained for long. Despite his extraordinary physique, it was evident that his body couldn't support prolonged movement.
Finally, after running less than two kilometers, a slight numbness tingled in his legs. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his legs. The muscles trembled slightly, clearly a result of prolonged tension without relaxation, and his legs were now cramping violently.
Ordinary people would have been advised by their coaches to stop under such pain. However, Gene-Enhanced Humans had a unique constitution; they generally possessed strong self-healing abilities and their immunity was at least twice that of normal individuals. Such injuries would require only a brief rest for an ordinary person to recover, but for a Gene-Enhanced Human, healing could occur within minutes.
"Nine kilometers; the subject forcibly activated the Gene Chain, resulting in an early onset of Ultimate. His legs are cramping due to insufficient rest time. There are still 107 kilometers remaining..."
Freya silently watched the man curled up on the ground across from her. Gradually, she saw him rise unsteadily from the ground and begin to run again, dragging his injured leg behind him. A calm smile appeared on her face as she observed his back.
Despite the injury he faced while confronting Ultimate, Freyr had no intention of retreating. He had previously completed these training exercises alone and had endured far more grueling challenges. What did this pain mean to him? Gritting his teeth against the wind, he limped forward across the field.
He knew he wouldn't have much time left to complete the long-distance run; he needed to finish quickly. After all, breakfast was limited to a short window of time—if he missed it, he would go hungry. He didn't possess the ability to withstand hunger while enduring higher-intensity training; that would only harm his body.
Even though his physique exceeded normal expectations, it wasn't strong enough to survive solely on air.
Time passed slowly. Once the Gene Chain was deactivated, it felt like a dam had run dry; all bodily functions plummeted back to baseline. His legs no longer hurt, but during his run, he felt as if a fiery ball of heat resided in his chest and abdomen. He tried to regulate his breathing but could only alleviate some fatigue; exhaustion still weighed heavily on him.
At that moment, he realized he was just an ordinary person. Fortunately, he had already completed half of the distance; during that stretch, he had exhausted all his stamina. He could feel even breathing becoming labored and his steps clumsy. The activation of the Gene Chain had completely drained what little energy he had left; when that energy was insufficient to maintain superhuman status, the Gene Chain would disappear on its own.
The use of the Gene Chain must occur in critical moments; once stamina ran out, it would be like a robot with a dead battery—unable to move forward or backward. Such a situation on the battlefield would undoubtedly lead to death.
This scenario was particularly common: although there was an endpoint ahead, the journey itself was agonizing. Freya sensed his breath growing faint and hurried; she looked up at the sky where the sun hung high above them. It was a scorching summer day; after the refreshing morning weather ended, temperatures would plunge into an entirely different hellish heat.
For Gene-Enhanced Humans, heat was more terrifying than cold. Just like ordinary people, they felt their skin burning under scorching temperatures. When temperatures rose above 36 degrees Celsius (96.8 degrees Fahrenheit), sweat would pour out rapidly; without quick access to water during Ultimate activities, even ordinary people would struggle to endure such hellish heat.
"It's so hot!"
Freya shielded her eyes from the glaring sun overhead as its rays beat down upon her like a fiery orb. The ultraviolet light burned her skin painfully as if she were being roasted over charcoal. She pulled out sunscreen from her bag and applied some onto her snow-white arms while letting out uncomfortable sounds.
Time passed quickly as Freyr struggled through the entire course of twenty kilometers in this ultra-long marathon known as Ultimate—a basic physical recovery exercise that nearly left him gasping for breath and with a growling stomach from hunger as he reached the final stretch empty-handed. He collapsed onto the ground and let sweat drench him completely as it pooled on the plastic track beneath him.
“Recovery Training The long run is over, you can go have breakfast now. You have more grit than I imagined; you didn’t complain even once during the whole thing. Honestly, I’m almost impressed by your Willpower. Just how much can you endure?”
Freya had her hair tied up under a sun hat, with three small fans on the brim blowing cool air onto her delicate face. She wore sunglasses and had a mysterious smile at the corner of her mouth. She approached Freyr, crossing her arms, and handed him a towel and a bottle of mineral water from her bag.
The blazing sun continued to beat down, but as he ran the last three kilometers, Freyr’s cheeks turned pale. He kept licking his cracked lips, trying to moisten them with saliva, but unfortunately, his mouth was nearly parched. Even the sweat on his body had dried up in the wind; he was just a breath away from collapsing.
He took the mineral water, quickly unscrewed the cap, and let the cool liquid flow into his mouth. He tilted his head back and splashed some water on himself before gulping it down greedily.
“Slow down, I still have some left,” Freya laughed.
Freyr stuck out his tongue and drank every last drop from the bottle without wasting a single drop. He crushed the empty bottle in his hand and tossed it aside, his eyes still reflecting a thirst for more. “Water… I need more water…”
“Alright, alright… Here you go… Honestly, you could have taken water during the run; you finished the whole thing without it! That’s seriously self-destructive behavior. Oh well, here’s another bottle…” she said as she handed him an opened bottle of mineral water.
“You didn’t say anything to me! I thought… oh forget it…”
Freyr rolled his eyes in exasperation and sighed before taking the water and drinking deeply.
“Just take care of yourself! If you end up exhausting yourself to death, I’ll be held legally responsible…”
Freya couldn’t help but tease him.
They fell silent for a moment before lingering on the playground for a while longer. Then they returned to Cambrian Hall. As they pushed open the door, a fragrant aroma of medicinal cuisine wafted out from inside.
Freyr recognized this scent well but couldn’t place it; it felt familiar yet elusive. Shaking his head, he lowered his gaze and followed her into another room. This room had been locked in the morning but was now open, filled with laughter from within.
“Ahem.” Freya pretended to cough as she suddenly appeared at the door before walking in. “Move your stinky butts over! Shift two seats; leave some food on the table for us newcomers.”
“Boss lady, why are you so biased? I’m your loyal lackey!” A short boy laughed heartily; it was Adams, who had been pinched by Freya that morning. He still wore a mischievous grin and deliberately left space beside him for the tall beauty manager to sit next to him.
“Adams, you’re such a pig—always eating! Fine then, sis will reward you with a chicken leg,” Freya said as she squeezed through the crowd to sit at the edge.
“Hey, isn’t that the delivery guy from this morning?” Adams was quite chatty at the table, filled with all sorts of witty remarks. He glanced at the boy next to Freya and began cracking jokes.
"Hello everyone, my name is Freyr. It's my first time here, so I hope to receive your guidance." Freyr stood up and politely met his teammates' eyes, bowing deeply as a sign of respect.
"Very polite, Delivery Guy," Adams chuckled.
"I don't mind what others call me, but I hope everyone can respect each other. A name is meant to be called, so feel free to call me by my name, Senior."
"Adams, hahahaha, did you hear that? Make sure to write it down in your notebook," the Explosive-Haired Man laughed loudly, completely disregarding his appearance.
The others shot fiery glares at him, quickly covering their bowls with their hands to prevent any saliva from splattering into their food.
"Alright, another goody two-shoes. Fine, you've got guts," Adams turned his head away with a huff, a hint of resentment in his eyes.
"So, newcomer—no, Freyr—how does it feel to start training? Are you tired? If you follow Brother Xiu's lead, I guarantee you'll be ready in a month," Brother Xiu suddenly chimed in from the side.
Standing nearby was the Fat Chef, who said nothing. At that moment, in the particularly tense atmosphere of the team, his presence seemed insignificant. The students were wary of him; many had fiery tempers and were careful not to provoke him due to his dual role as a coach.
The others sat silently with grim expressions, diligently eating their steaks.
"Is there anything you can't eat? Do you prefer meat or vegetables? Here, you can eat as much as you want," the chef offered.
Comment 0 Comment Count