Chapter 6: The Chinese Week

Chapter 6: The Chinese Contender

With the aid of the “Slightly Superior Aerial Combat Technique,” Zhou Zhihan felt his body’s functions continuously repairing and recovering as he ran, growing more energized with each stride, his steps becoming lighter.

After completing 500 meters, the distance between Zhou Zhihan and Ryunosuke Sakamoto had closed to just over 300 meters.

By the time Zhou reached 1,000 meters, the gap narrowed to merely 210 meters.

When Zhou touched the 500-meter marker for the second time, Ryunosuke was less than 400 meters from the finish line.

Zhou’s pace quickened, steadily closing the distance, yet all the instructors and watching cadets knew that the 100-meter gap separating them was an insurmountable chasm for Zhou.

Moreover, everyone noticed that Ryunosuke was holding back; there was no sign of his legs weakening during the final sprint.

An early sprint is a cardinal sin in weighted running; the last several meters often end in a humiliating crawl.

When two competitors are evenly matched, it’s not just difficult but impossible for the one behind to close a 100-meter lead in the last 500 meters—unless the leader falters.

Another crucial reason was that Zhou had already done 60 burpees earlier, draining his stamina heavily. At this speed, an all-out sprint was unsustainable.

Ryunosuke held a distinct advantage, conserving energy for the final push.

Seeing this “Chinese underdog” gradually gaining ground, Ryunosuke was unfazed; instead, he looked back, waving to encourage Zhou.

Keeping too large a lead was meaningless and would make his lead seem suspicious.

That was why Ryunosuke intentionally slowed his pace earlier—to show he had reserves.

He had no intention of breaking any records today; his sole aim was to humiliate this underdog. As long as he defeated this “washed-up” opponent, it would be as if he had conquered his bed, forcing the “loser” to crawl away, never to rise again.

He wanted all instructors and Class 17 cadets to know that a Japanese exchange student could easily defeat a Chinese one.

With just over 300 meters left, Ryunosuke began to accelerate into a sprint.

Cheers, applause, and chants erupted from the field.

More and more students from other classes, having finished their meals, gathered upon hearing there was a race between a Chinese and a Japanese student.

Every breath and heartbeat between them was intensely watched.

Ryunosuke knew the cheers were for him, fueling his pride as he raised his arms, confidently basking in the acclaim.

When only 100 meters remained, someone in the crowd shouted “China!”

Only then did Ryunosuke realize these cheers and encouragements weren’t for him.

He instinctively glanced back.

Less than twenty meters behind, the “underdog” was rapidly closing in.

Surprised by Zhou’s sudden burst of speed, Ryunosuke had no time to dwell and pushed forward with all his might.

Fifty meters to the finish...

Thirty meters...

Twenty meters...

Ten meters...

Five meters...

Two meters...

Just two seconds before Ryunosuke was about to cross the finish line, a figure surged past him, breaking through the red tape that students had spontaneously formed.

“China!”

Thunderous applause filled the arena as all Class 17 students shouted, “China!”

“Ding! The debut of the Slightly Superior Aerial Combat Technique succeeded. Host gains 100 combat credits. Host defeated the Japanese exchange student and earns an additional 100 combat credits.”

Zhou had no time to ponder what combat credits were and quickly asked the timing instructor, “Sir! Did I complete the first test?”

Two instructors compared their stopwatches, taking the median reading. A young warrant officer said, “Two-kilometer weighted run with five kilograms: Zhou Zhihan completed it in 9 minutes and 51 seconds. Pass!”

Zhou smirked inwardly. Actually, he’d finished the two-kilometer weighted run in just 7 minutes and 51 seconds. He was truly pushing himself to the limit.

“Thank you, sir!”

Zhou saluted the two instructors, then immediately dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups.

The instructors and cadets watched in disbelief. He had just done 60 burpees in two minutes, then completed a two-kilometer weighted run in eight minutes—was this “washed-up” guy not exhausted? According to regulations, he could have rested a few minutes.

“Zhou, you can take a rest,” the young warrant officer kindly reminded him, showing a fondness for talent.

“Thank you, sir! I’m not tired. I’ve always trained like this back in China,” Zhou replied honestly. Before his time slip, he had indeed trained like this in university.

University students in the 2020s far surpassed military academy cadets of the 1930s in both physical strength and training.

The young warrant officer shrugged helplessly. “...I don’t even know what to say.”

Ryunosuke, having been overtaken by Zhou by a slim second, felt as if he’d taken an uppercut to the gut—frustration and disbelief overwhelmed him. How could he lose by just one second despite holding such a commanding lead?

Did this “washed-up” guy cheat?

Though suspicious, the competition had to go on. Ryunosuke dropped to the ground and began push-ups simultaneously with Zhou. Regardless of cheating or not, he admitted he had been careless and relaxed, costing him the weighted run.

And the loss was so embarrassing, so close—just half a step away. It was maddening.

Ryunosuke steeled himself—this was nothing. There were still two more tests.

The last to laugh wins.

They began 50 push-ups in one minute.

Normally, 50 push-ups in a minute is not difficult. But after an exhausting two-kilometer weighted run without rest, doing 50 push-ups was challenging for a freshman.

This already exceeded the physical fitness standards required of first-year cadets at West Point.

Ryunosuke counted quietly while rapidly doing push-ups. At number 48, Zhou suddenly shouted beside him.

“Sir! 50 push-ups completed!”

Zhou, slightly breathless, showed no sign of fatigue. Instead, his pectorals and biceps felt swollen and ready to burst from exertion.

These 50 push-ups were done without relying on the Slightly Superior Combat Technique—purely his own strength.

The 60 burpees had not just drawn sweat but purged impurities from his body. During the weighted run, his entire system was aligned, his meridians and muscles transformed anew. His vision and hearing had improved significantly—vital for dominating the skies as a future fighter pilot.

“Not 50, but 52 push-ups in 43 seconds,” the young warrant officer said, glancing at his stopwatch before looking up at Zhou.

“Ding! Host defeated the Japanese exchange student again. Prize doubled. System rewards 200 combat credits.

Note: When the system detects the host’s own strength is insufficient to complete a task, it autonomously activates the Slightly Superior Combat Technique, consuming 100 combat credits. If the host voluntarily activates it, 200 combat credits are consumed.

Therefore, the system requires the host to accumulate combat credits through life, study, competition, and battle, bringing continual surprises.”

Another instructor announced, “Ryunosuke Sakamoto, 50 push-ups completed in 44 seconds.”

Ryunosuke felt a tightness in his chest. His overconfidence had cost him the weighted run by one second, and now, despite giving his all on push-ups, he lost by two seconds.

The frustration was unbearable—like a chess game where you’re one move from checkmating your opponent only to be checkmated yourself one turn earlier.

The feeling was suffocating, driving him to start another match with renewed determination to win.

During the sprint, Ryunosuke was unaware that Zhou had done 60 burpees before starting. He assumed it was part of Zhou’s tactic: a slow warm-up jog followed by an all-out final sprint.

Having finished the 50 push-ups, Zhou didn’t rest. He immediately asked, “Ryunosuke, thank you for your help earlier in passing the first test. Now, I invite you to join me in completing the second test.”

Ryunosuke eagerly accepted. The fire of anger burning inside him needed release. Consecutive losses in the final sprint and push-ups had wounded his pride.

A warrior of the Great Japanese Empire cannot lose to an “East Asian sick man.”

Under all eyes, he must reclaim his honor.

Ryunosuke stripped off his shirt and pants, joining Zhou—who had also removed his pants—by a large pool of water.

“Damn!” Zhou muttered quietly. “Didn’t expect this little Japanese guy to be so strong.”

It was spring, but the weather in America was still chilly.

War knows no seasons. Even with rivers frozen in winter, soldiers must wade through water to seize air superiority.

Both entered the pool, breathing deeply and slowly, preparing for Captain Jonas Hansen’s signal to start the second test: lung capacity.

This test was placed second to assess a soldier’s ability to survive underwater after brutal combat.

Sometimes, soldiers had to swim across rivers during war.

At night, to evade enemy searchlights scanning the surface, soldiers needed to hold their breath underwater for at least 90 seconds.

Often, to launch a stealthy, fierce assault post-crossing, soldiers carried heavy weapons while moving underwater.

Therefore, West Point incorporated breath-holding combined with dragging a 30-kilogram weight over at least 15 meters underwater.

The contract is on its way!

(End of chapter)