Chapter 15: The Devil’s Ladder (Third Update—Please Cast Your Recommendation Votes)

This was infuriating. You, Ryunosuke Sakamoto, want to challenge me? That depends on my mood. As for the terms I propose, you have no choice but to accept them; otherwise, there is no contest.

Has this "salted fish" finally lost his mind? Ryunosuke Sakamoto was dumbfounded. You, this stimulant-fueled salted fish, actually think this competition isn't exciting enough and want to add even more stimulating elements?

"Fu...ck..."
"Damn it..."

Even the other students in the dormitory started cursing. This was too exhilarating; it had been a long time since something this amusing had happened at the school.

"State your terms!"

Sakamoto’s reply was blunt and aggressive.

Zhou Zhihan took off his sock, sniffed it to ensure it didn't stink, and, under the disgusted gazes of those around him, stuffed it into his shoe. "Since so many brothers are just hanging around with nothing to do, why don't we combine our competition with some entertainment? How about we add a game to the proceedings?"

"A game?"

Sakamoto was stunned for a second, then his fury ignited. You, this "salted fish" bastard, are you playing games with me? I’m here for a physical challenge, and you want to play a game?

"Yes! The game is called 'The Devil’s Ladder!'" Zhou Zhihan cut him off before he could speak. "Entertainment while we compete—The Devil’s Ladder welcomes you! Tell me, do you dare to accept?"

As soon as Zhou Zhihan finished speaking, the cadets erupted:

"What the hell?"
"What is the Devil’s Ladder?"
"Whatever it is, just the name alone is so... so f***ing intense, damn it!"

Zhou Zhihan signaled for silence. "You’ve all been suspecting that I’ve taken stimulants. Everyone knows that if you take stimulants and then drink alcohol, you’re just asking for trouble. To prove my innocence, I suggest we add an element of alcohol to our three-part competition—The Devil’s Ladder. Alcohol is both an angel and a devil, but today, we shall let it be the devil. To keep it fair, the method of drinking will be different for each event."

To show my sincerity, I’ll claim the alcohol from the first event for myself to drink, so that you big-nosed, blue-eyed Yankees can shut your foul mouths. In short, by the end of the competition, whoever cannot drink, cannot run, cannot fight, and ends up lying on the ground unable to get back up, loses. This Devil’s Ladder tests both strength and willpower."

The room fell silent for three seconds.

Then came a wave of raucous, supportive cheering.

Especially when Zhou Zhihan told the "big-nosed, blue-eyed Yankees" to shut their foul mouths, it didn't annoy the students at all. Instead, they found this stimulant-soaked "salted fish" refreshingly blunt and likable, instantly drawing them closer to him.

"F***... damn it, listen to that. Is that even human talk? He adds alcohol to the competition, yet he claims the drink for himself in the first round. Damn it, are you sure you have the nerve for that?"

"God, is this damned, stimulant-soaked salted fish trying to commit suicide?"

"Brother! In case you lose the first round, I hope you go easy on yourself when you have to slap your own face—don't knock yourself unconscious, or we’ll lose the entertainment!"

For a moment, the room and the hallway were a chaotic mix of laughter, cursing, and shouting. The cadets, bursting with hormones and energy, were in a state of wild, uncontrollable excitement.

Zhou Zhihan sat cross-legged on his bed and held up his hands to signal for silence. The room and the area outside went deathly quiet.

Ryunosuke Sakamoto suddenly felt like he had been relegated to a supporting role, all the spotlight once again stolen by this stimulant-soaked "salted fish."

"I haven't finished yet! In the first event, the winner gets to drink, and not a drop may be spilled. To be fair, the loser must immediately slap themselves in the face, which allows them to start their return run while the winner is drinking! If the loser refuses to slap themselves, and the winner finishes their drink, the one who refused will be declared the loser of the entire competition and must crawl between the legs of everyone present!" Zhou Zhihan looked at Sakamoto and reiterated, "If you don't agree, we can cancel the competition! And from now on, please stop bothering me. You're the first person I've ever met who is so courageous as to keep fighting despite repeated defeats."

"Boom!"

The students exploded again.

This salted fish is digging his own grave! If he wins, he drinks; if he loses, he has to slap himself. Are you trying to sabotage yourself?

Furthermore, if the loser refuses to slap themselves, they have to crawl between everyone’s legs. There were fewer than ten cadets from Class 17 left in the dormitory—those who lived far away or didn't have girlfriends, whose hobbies were just playing cards or gambling. Hearing about "The Devil’s Ladder" for the first time, each one was eager to see what kind of "Devil’s Ladder" this amusing, stimulant-soaked salted fish would bring.

Sakamoto agreed immediately. He welcomed the self-slapping clause; he couldn't wait to watch Zhou Zhihan slap himself.

He had always believed that his loss in the shuttle run that morning was due to his own carelessness. Had he not underestimated his opponent or slowed his pace, he could have easily left the "salted fish" hundreds of meters behind. By the time he realized the "salted fish" had caught up, he was caught off guard and had lost his momentum and the initiative.

So, he had to win the shuttle run back.

Later, Sakamoto heard from other students that Zhou Zhihan had done 60 burpees before competing against him.

Later still, some said Zhou Zhihan had done those 60 strange burpees before the run specifically because he had taken stimulants.

Connecting this to Zhou Zhihan’s bizarre behavior during the run, almost everyone believed that he had performed those strange movements after the starting gun because he had overdosed on stimulants.

For the deadlift, Sakamoto was confident in his strength. He was absolutely certain he could defeat this Chinese cadet; while the Chinese cadet’s muscle definition wasn't bad, it lacked the dominance and steel-like hardness of his own.

In the third event, a physical fight, he was an eighth-degree black belt in Karate.

Therefore, Zhou Zhihan’s proposal to add alcohol to the competition played right into Sakamoto’s hands. He had a high tolerance for alcohol, and if Zhou Zhihan had indeed taken stimulants this morning, drinking would be pure self-torture!

Within ten minutes of Zhou Zhihan’s proposal, almost every student in the freshman dormitory area who hadn't gone out knew about it.

Nearly a hundred students spontaneously gathered at an independent training field belonging to the freshmen.

Several dormitory supervisors also followed to watch the spectacle, including Sergeant Jink White. As long as it wasn't a weaponized fight, students were allowed to interact freely.

West Point was the dream of every student; they were disciplined and would never incite a riot. If a fight between two cadets took a turn for the worse, the supervisors could call a halt immediately.

Several students volunteered to go to the mess hall to fetch alcohol and cups.

This afternoon, it wouldn't just be the winner of the first round drinking.

Usually, it was the loser who had to drink in a bet, but in this first event, the winner got to drink—this was going to be fun.

The Devil’s Ladder...
F***, just thinking about it was exciting!