Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Limit

The next day.

October 12th.

Six days remained until the day Rousseau and Li Yan’s wager was to be fulfilled.

Eighteen days remained until the Eastern Youth Games.

When Rousseau went to the stadium for training, everyone looked at him with somewhat peculiar expressions. News seemed to spread quickly—perhaps from the coaching staff, perhaps from Tian Shiwei. In any case, Rousseau’s pledge to the coach was known by all.

Rousseau had long grown accustomed to ignoring such looks. He practiced his curve-running technique for the 200 meters, entirely focused on himself.

Start, start again, and again.

Rousseau felt he’d reached about seventy percent proficiency in his curve technique. Of course, even at a hundred percent, there was always room for improvement—technique, after all, has no limits.

His routine was to practice skills and fitness in the morning, skills and equipment in the afternoon, equipment in the evening. Li Yan paid him no mind.

Ever since the wager was struck, Li Yan treated Rousseau as air—yet did not prevent him from training alone, and all facilities were open for his use.

Yet the lone figure on the field, opposed to the group, formed an evident antagonism. Even outsiders unfamiliar with the sprint team could sense something was amiss.

Why was there an athlete training alone, as if a team unto himself?

...

Li Yan treated Rousseau as air.

Rousseau, in turn, treated the world as air.

But compared to the head coach of the national team, an athlete was undoubtedly in a weak position. To confront the coach from such a disadvantaged stance made the others—apart from Tian Shiwei—keep their distance from Rousseau, or perhaps look upon him with even greater disfavor.

Rousseau noticed this, but gave it little thought. Even if he did, these teammates were destined to spend only twenty days or so together; their opinions would have little bearing on his life. Since it mattered not, why care?

Rousseau now calculated that, with six days until Li Yan’s assessment, training alone might allow him to increase his ‘Strength’ by one more point.

Compared to the initial surge in physical improvement upon joining the provincial team, progress had slowed markedly—this was a disappointment, but Rousseau consoled himself with the thought that it would only slow further in the future.

So, should he use the reward attribute points from the Provincial Games to boost his strength, balancing ‘Agility’ and ‘Strength’ to better activate the ‘Acceleration’ skill?

Should he?

If so, now was the time.

After all, sudden increases in attributes did not mean mastery—they required practice and familiarization.

The notion of adding points the day before a competition and dazzling the next day was something Rousseau dared not even imagine.

From previous experience, improvements granted by the status bar were never instantly available.

Rousseau always felt the status bar’s enhancements were akin to a drug or method for unlocking human potential—he merely enjoyed the future capabilities of his body ahead of time.

...

October 16th.

Six-thirty in the morning.

Rousseau was already awake.

In the north, after October, dawn came late; outside the window, the sky was half-bright, half-dark, the sun not yet risen, a faint, unclear orange warmth seeping through the haze.

Tian Shiwei was still asleep. Li Yan’s schedule called for assembly at seven-thirty for morning training, so Tian Shiwei could sleep another half hour, then rush through breakfast and arrive at the training ground in the nick of time.

Bang bang.

A gentle knock at the door.

Rousseau opened it to find Dong Zijian.

The assistant coach had already arranged with Rousseau to take him for his fifth round of physical examinations this morning.

The two left the dormitory for the examination center. The central bureau had a large, well-equipped facility; Rousseau had blood drawn, provided a urine sample, underwent various movement tests, and was covered with electrodes for a series of assessments.

Among the entire sprint team, only Rousseau underwent such frequent exams. Tian Shiwei had only one upon joining; Rousseau was now on his fifth.

Rousseau had no idea what Li Yan suspected.

Or what Li Yan hoped to find.

Detect the status bar?

Half an hour later, Dong Zijian brought the report to Rousseau: “Your muscle strength has increased since yesterday—there’s a notable rise across the metrics—but your fatigue levels have reached an extreme. You should stop training and rest for a day.”

Rousseau nodded in agreement.

His status bar clearly showed a red glow on ‘Strength,’ with the word ‘Limit’ following.

‘Agility,’ though not so dramatically highlighted nor marked ‘Limit,’ was also tinged with red.

The status bar had warned Rousseau that in a ‘red’ state, athletes are prone to injury.

But what did ‘Limit’ mean?

It was likely because over the past three days, Rousseau had allocated three spare attribute points, one per day, all to ‘Strength.’ Now both values in the status bar were at ‘40.’

It was also because, over the past five months, Rousseau had never relaxed—not even during holidays, which were only due to injury.

Now, Rousseau felt like a fully drawn bow, stretched to its limit.

...

Rousseau felt utterly exhausted.

This exhaustion washed over him like the icy sea.

His body seemed to be stretched to the utmost, with his hands and feet on the verge of cramping.

The status bar once again proved its gifts were not without price—they were an advance on his body’s potential.

Leaving the examination center, Rousseau wandered around the track, watching the other five sprinters training their fitness—running laps, essentially. Rousseau stood at the edge, idly observing, and the status bar displayed their states one by one.

It was quite entertaining.

Though Rousseau couldn’t train himself just then, watching others was akin to training in his mind.

But Rousseau hadn’t yet eaten breakfast, so he went to the cafeteria, grabbed a few buns and a bag of milk, found a seat by the track, wrapped himself tightly in his athletic jacket—his body too fatigued to risk catching cold—and watched the sprint team’s training with relish.

As the sprinters engaged in various drills and races, lines of textual description appeared in Rousseau’s status bar.

It was the first time since he began sprinting that Rousseau had systematically observed other athletes’ training for an extended period. He gained much, and thought that after retirement, he should become a coach—certainly he could train some remarkable athletes.

And not just in sprinting.

...

Rousseau watched with great interest.

The athletes in training found it hard to bear.

It was as if a group of diligent students saw a classmate idly wandering outside the classroom—usually out of sight, but now right before them, which was infuriating.

But Li Yan said nothing.

Nor did anyone else dare to speak.

Li Yan noticed Rousseau, but after asking Dong Zijian a few questions, simply ignored him.

This awkward situation persisted until noon.

After training, Tian Shiwei came to find Rousseau, complaining—had Rousseau given up? Was he slacking off? Had he forgotten the dream shared by the Twin Dragons of Pengcheng?

Rousseau launched into a lengthy discourse in response, astonishing Tian Shiwei.