Chapter Sixty-Two: At the Pinnacle

“The coach might be putting you through the wringer on purpose.”
Faced with Tian Shiwei’s comment, Rousseau replied, “I know.”
“Huh?” Tian Shiwei was taken aback.
“Coach Li plays the bad cop, Coach Dong plays the good cop. One pushes me, the other guides me, hoping that by using these tactics, I’ll run a better race,” Rousseau explained. Seeing the advice Dong Zijian gave him, Rousseau had understood it all, and honestly, he’d already had his suspicions when Li Yan inexplicably forbade him from competing.
“Then why did you almost punch Coach Li?” Tian Shiwei said.
“First off, he deserved it. Second, I had to play along with their act, or else what’s the point of their performance?” Rousseau replied.
“Why do the coaches go through all this? Can’t they just talk to you and train you like normal?” Tian Shiwei frowned.
“Probably because Coach Li is a jerk,” Rousseau said. “He believes in his own methods. Since I’ve managed to improve under pressure, he thinks even more pressure will get me even better results.”
“Isn’t he afraid he’ll push you too far and break you?” Tian Shiwei asked.
“If I break, it’s no loss for him. I haven’t posted any results yet. I insist on running the 200 meters—that’s my own doing. He can justify himself to the sports bureau. If it were someone with results, like Zhang Zhen, he’d never dare treat them this way. That bastard tailors his methods to whoever he’s dealing with,” Rousseau said.
“If you know all this, why go along with it?” Tian Shiwei couldn’t help but feel indignant for Rousseau.
“Because I need that pressure to push myself to a new level. I want to win gold,” Rousseau answered.
“Alright then,” Tian Shiwei nodded, still feeling upset for his friend. But, since this was Rousseau’s choice, he said, “Anyway, the coach—our coach—says if you ever feel you’re being bullied, come back to Pengcheng. The Southern Guangdong Provincial Team will back you up. If you have the results, you don’t have to fear anything.”
Rousseau nodded, warmth blooming in his chest.

October 24th.

Morning.

Rousseau’s training schedule was as usual today.

Inside the weight room.

He stared at his unmoving “Strength” stat, then went through the motions with various equipment, all in vain.

It had already been four days.

His “limit” status hadn’t budged.

This inability to improve wasn’t just obvious on the stats screen—it was something Rousseau could feel deep in his body.

That sensation of being unable to grow, no matter how hard you try, was simply miserable.

Rousseau even regretted putting three free attribute points into “Strength.” He believed that boosting a single attribute directly, skipping the time for training, was what had pushed his physical qualities to their limit so early.

He had borrowed from the future, and now the future was collecting interest, punishing him for reaching his limit too soon.

But regrets were useless.

Rousseau shook his head, sweeping away those futile, despairing thoughts.

If he couldn’t improve “Strength,” he could still work on “Agility.”

“Agility” could be improved through regular training. Every athletic skill and drill was tied to that stat, so whether Rousseau liked it or not, his “Agility” was on the verge of another breakthrough.

40.95—that was his current “Agility.”

If he leveled up now, all the balance he’d worked so hard to achieve would vanish, and he’d have to spend time getting used to his new body all over again.

So, better to improve early than risk an unexpected breakthrough during the Dongqing Games.

…

Afternoon, October 24th.

Rousseau squeezed in some time and asked Tian Shiwei for help, practicing the combination of “Acceleration” and “Burst.”

To conserve energy, Rousseau didn’t run the entire distance each time. Instead, at the curve, after adjusting his stride, he’d activate “Burst” and end the drill there.

This let him save stamina and practice four or five more times.

It had been two days since Rousseau, on the third day after Dong Zijian proposed the theory, first managed to combine “Acceleration” and “Burst” on the 200-meter track.

He’d taken a few falls before, but none were serious.

In fact, those spills had given him even more confidence that the two techniques could be combined.

The first time he fell, he was out of training for three days, but he’d learned the characteristics of each technique. If he let his body adjust and took the fall intentionally, it was like running an e-bike into a wall at low speed—nothing too painful.

Bit by bit, Rousseau began to pick up the rules.

It really was all about stride frequency and stride length.

As long as he could grasp that precarious sweet spot, and at the end of the 110-meter curve, adjust his stride to the steady rhythm required for the “Burst” skill, sacrificing a bit of the speed built up from “Acceleration,” then activate “Burst”—his speed would shoot up in a flash.

At least 0.1 seconds faster.

That would put Rousseau under the 10.80 mark—a highly competitive time in the 200 meters.

…

Evening, October 24th.

Rousseau received news that left him with feelings he couldn’t quite describe.

The status screen notified him that his “Agility” had increased.

At present, his stats were as follows:

Agility: 41.00 (Limit)
Strength: 40.00 (Limit)
Stamina: 52/100

With “Strength” already maxed out, “Agility” had now reached the end of its potential as well.

Standing on the darkening track, Rousseau gazed at the translucent status screen floating before his eyes.

From here, he could see the twilight over Longyuan Park. Only a road separated the National Sports Complex from Longyuan Park, and he could spot the elderly couples taking their evening strolls around the lake.

My body has probably reached its prime—right before retirement...

If not for the status screen, my lifelong limit would likely have been that 10.49 seconds at the provincial games...

Of course, without the status screen, Rousseau might never have made it into professional athletics in the first place.

He used to think that with the status screen, he could simply train on his own, make it to the Olympics, and win gold. Now, he realized how naive that was—human effort does have its limits...

The two “Limit” markers reminded Rousseau that he’d overestimated himself.

“Is that so?”
Rousseau refused to believe it.

…

October 24th.

8:00 p.m.

Rousseau returned to the dormitory and said to Tian Shiwei, “Old Tian, come with me to the track.”

Huh?

Tian Shiwei glanced at the sky.

It was already 8 p.m.

What was the point of going to the track now? It was pitch dark.

And cold, too.

Indeed, the temperature difference between morning and night in the north was huge. For the national team to be holding training camp in the capital this time of year was absurd—the cold made muscles stiff, raising the risk of injury.

…

Dressed in their tracksuits, Tian Shiwei and Rousseau stood on the track, Tian Shiwei having no idea what Rousseau was up to.

“Let’s race a few times,” Rousseau said.

“Old Lu, are you alright? You can barely see out here,” Tian Shiwei protested.

It was eight at night—dark as a dungeon. Who comes out to race at this hour? Was he trying to chase ghosts?

“I already talked to Coach Dong. He says he can handle it,” Rousseau replied.

Dong Zijian had said before, if there was ever a problem, come to him. Now, Rousseau really had a problem—he needed the whole stadium lit up for him at eight in the evening!

Click!

As Rousseau and Tian Shiwei were talking, the floodlights by the stadium blazed on, illuminating the 400-meter track. Not far away, a silhouette emerged from the shadows—it was Dong Zijian.

“You’ve got one hour,” Dong Zijian said.

“That’s plenty,” Rousseau replied, then turned to Tian Shiwei. “Warm up, or you’ll get hurt.”

As he spoke, Rousseau pulled out two sets of starting blocks.

“Old Lu, what are you really up to?” Tian Shiwei was baffled. Training at night was one thing, but why add a race? Was there any point?

What was he doing? Of course he was training. There were only six days left until the Dongqing Games. Rousseau felt he no longer needed to cling to that 50-point stamina threshold.

He had to train harder.

He had to push, to give it everything he had and more.

Only then could he earn a future that would astonish the world.