Chapter 111: The Ultimate Showdown

The 60-meter final at the Fengtian indoor invitational on December 30, 2004, would be dubbed by the media as the "Greatest Indoor 60-Meter Duel."

Whether domestic or international, sports reporting loves to emphasize concepts like "fated rivalries" or "local derbies," as if adding an invisible, mystical layer can make a competition instantly legendary. Japanese sports manga are particularly adept at this; if a Japanese artist were to illustrate this race, it would take two volumes just for the flashbacks—one for Lu Su and one for Zhang Zhen.

The reporters in Fengtian were eager; this was excellent material for their stories.

Lu Su was also looking forward to it. This was his chance to officially defeat Zhang Zhen. Especially since Zhang Zhen had managed to clock 6.50 seconds, beating him would be all the more satisfying. In the previous two 60-meter races, Lu Su had felt a sense of boredom, looking around for a challenge that didn't exist.

As for Zhang Zhen, there was no need for words. One look at his piercing gaze toward Lu Su—as if his eyes held a hidden arsenal of blades—revealed his burning desire to prove himself. The shyness he once displayed after their "sworn brotherhood" incident had vanished entirely.

He certainly looks confident...

As Lu Su warmed up at the start of the 60-meter track, he watched Zhang Zhen and found his rival's palpable impatience strangely familiar. After a moment of thought, it hit him: Zhang Zhen’s current state was exactly how he himself had been during the Eastern Youth Games.

It was the eagerness of someone who had just obtained the "Glass Crown," certain of victory, and desperate for the world to recognize them.

*So, you have a status bar too...? That can't be right.*

Lu Su was curious. What kind of weapon had Zhang Zhen acquired? What possible method could a sprinter use to improve their performance so rapidly?

However, Lu Su said nothing. He didn't use their past wagers to taunt Zhang Zhen during their eye contact, nor did he select "Provoke" or "Threaten" from his status bar. That wouldn't be fun; he wanted Zhang Zhen to lose while being completely convinced of his defeat.

"On your marks—"

At the starter's prompt, the six 60-meter sprinters settled into their starting positions. After four rounds, they were the fastest indoor 60-meter runners in the country, and the two in the middle lanes were the most exceptional of them all.

*Bang!*

The starting gun fired. Lu Su and Zhang Zhen surged forward almost simultaneously. Zhang Zhen was even half a shoulder ahead. Lu Su’s current starting reaction time was between 0.12 and 0.13 seconds—very consistent.

Zhang Zhen’s reaction time was a terrifying 0.12 seconds. A world-class start.

A 60-meter race is roughly 30 steps. Reviewing the race footage later, the data showed Zhang Zhen took 32 steps, while Lu Su took 29.

Zhang Zhen reached his transition phase at 17 meters, lifting his head and chest to sprint forward with long, powerful strides. Lu Su completed his acceleration phase at 20 meters, slightly later than Zhang Zhen.

Then, both men increased their stride frequency and length. They ran shoulder-to-shoulder on the narrow indoor track, both hitting their top speed around the 30-meter mark. Zhang Zhen was still slightly faster, maintaining his slim lead.

Analyzing the post-race footage, observers agreed this was a world-class indoor 60-meter race. At 1.82 meters and 1.70 meters tall respectively, Lu Su and Zhang Zhen represented two different types of sprinters, yet both possessed world-class strength in the indoor 60-meter event. This was rare indeed. Even at the World Championships, it was difficult to witness such a fiercely matched contest.

The entire race lasted less than seven seconds. From the moment the gun fired, the entire audience in Fengtian—including coaches, athletes, journalists, and spectators—held their breath. The competition was so intense that they unconsciously suppressed their heartbeats, staring without blinking at the two figures racing stride for stride.

For the two men on the track, it was even more intense. Feeling the figure beside him, only half a shoulder ahead but impossible to overtake, Lu Su felt a fire igniting within him. Domestically, he hadn't felt this sense of being the underdog in a long time—except, perhaps, in the 400-meter event.

This began to unlock the potential of his Glass Crown. As he had told Lu Jinrong before, to prevent injury, Lu Su usually "held back" when wearing the Glass Crown. Only in that 200-meter race at the Eastern Youth Games had he gone all out, mostly because he hadn't yet realized the full power of the crown. Now, he was confident he could win such a race without getting injured.

Combining "Burst" and "Acceleration," Lu Su unleashed a technique he had named "Meteor." He lunged forward, unstoppable, with the momentum of someone smashing through a wall, instantly increasing his stride frequency once more.

...

Lu Jinrong waited by the edge of the short track near the finish line. Seeing Lu Su and Zhang Zhen running neck-and-neck, his heart was in his throat. To others, this was a thrilling display of peak athletic competition, but to a coach, there were only two questions: "Can we win?" and "How?" The latter was technical; the former sometimes required a prayer—it belonged to the realm of theology.

At this moment, questioning the "how" was pointless, so Lu Jinrong could only silently pray for divine protection. However, when he saw Lu Su inexplicably increase his stride frequency in the final 20 meters, entering what he called his "Meteor" state, his heart settled. It was a sure thing.

...

Lu Su and Zhang Zhen crossed the finish line almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Half a second later, the other athletes followed. The top two crashed into the foam pads at the end of the track, while the others managed to slow down—they were so far behind that the desire to chase had vanished. To be born in the same era as these two peak athletes was the misfortune of their peers.

The crowd heard two thuds and worried about the athletes' noses, but their eyes were fixed on the electronic scoreboard. Before the results appeared, their hearts pounded and their breathing became heavy. Almost everyone realized they were about to witness history.

About a minute passed. Both athletes had been pulled from the foam pads by their respective coaches. Then, the times finally appeared on the electronic timer:

"Lu Su, 6.46 seconds.
Zhang Zhen, 6.48 seconds."

The moment the times appeared, a sense of incredible joy—almost ecstasy—surged through everyone. Because these were times that could challenge for a world championship.