24: Chapter 24 Provocation, Elimination

The exterior of the Training Center didn't differ much from what Lin Yan had imagined: gray-white alloy outer walls, a sharp-angled flat-roofed silhouette, and a relief of the Federal Star Shield emblem embedded above the main entrance.

Qin Chuan walked on Lin Yan's left, having been reciting Instructor Meng Yuan's resume over and over since they stepped out of the elevator. Shen Xin walked on Lin Yan's right, wearing a light blue sports jacket, her high ponytail swaying gently with her steps.

Before entering the gates of the Training Center, she whispered, "The people from First Awakening Middle School started a betting thread on the forum, wagering on how many days it would take for you to be eliminated. I bet on you staying until the end, so don't make me lose money."

More than half the people had already arrived, scattered here and there in twos and threes. Some were leaning against the Dungeon simulation pods flipping through materials, some were sitting behind a long table adjusting their wristbands, and others were just standing there, their gazes sweeping over those coming through the door.

When Lin Yan walked in, these gazes simultaneously completed the process from filtering to locking on.

A boy near the door who was cleaning a dagger stopped his hand first, then the two girls whispering behind the long table fell silent, and then the people beside the Dungeon simulation pods all turned their heads.

By the wall, a sturdy boy lowered his crossed arms. His shoulders were half a size broader than everyone else's, and the sleeves of his dark training uniform were rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms with distinct, bulging veins. He had been staring at Lin Yan the moment he entered, his eyes filled with contempt—the kind of stifled frustration and resentment one feels after being surpassed. He ranked fifth on the public list, and the person above him was an F-rank. Fang Shen.

He took two steps forward, and the few people from First Awakening Middle School beside him automatically cleared a path. He sized up Lin Yan; his voice wasn't loud when he spoke, but every word sounded like it was being deliberately ground into the shock-absorbing mat.

"No biological parents, even your name was randomly assigned by the system—a mass-produced stray, and you think you deserve an S+?"

The low-frequency noise in the training hall vanished instantly. A few students standing against the wall frowned, but seeing that it was Fang Shen speaking, no one made a sound.

Over on the First Awakening Middle School side, someone sneered without any attempt to hide it, their gaze filled with a sense of natural superiority, waiting to see how this F-rank from a public school would be trampled down.

Lin Yan stopped and turned his head. He didn't speak, just looked at Fang Shen calmly.

Fang Shen was stung by that look. He had expected the other party to fly into a rage, curse back, or at least show an expression of having been poked where it hurt.

But Lin Yan didn't. In those eyes, there was no shame, no anger, and he didn't even take him seriously. This was more embarrassing to him than any counterattack. He stopped wasting words and raised his left hand.

His storage wristband lit up. Breastplate, legguards, bracers, boots, helmet—the light orbs for several pieces of equipment popped out, expanded, and fitted onto him simultaneously, the movements as fluid as breathing. It was a full set of iron-gray gear, with a dark red rune core embedded in the center of the breastplate. The moment the runes lit up, the surrounding air seemed to grow heavier. After the helmet covered his face, only his eyes were visible, and the rune patterns on the diamond-shaped arm shield on his left arm pulsed in sync with the breastplate core.

A full set of Level 5 green gear. Every piece locked perfectly with his A-Rank Talent "Steel Bones," providing additional constitution boosts, damage reduction, and melee attacks that dealt damage based on defense values. With the full set equipped, Fang Shen looked like an iron tower that had been tempered in fire, his aura of oppression surging exponentially.

"Want to fight?" The voice came from behind the helmet, deep, provocative, and carrying absolute confidence in his strength.

Lin Yan didn't show any extra expression and directly activated all his equipment. "I'm ready anytime."

In the crowd nearby, a girl with a ponytail had been leaning against a Dungeon simulation pod, her detection halo habitually turned on. Song Youling's gaze was initially just for show, but the data fed back by the detection halo made her pause. She confirmed the number on the panel again, then quietly turned off the detection halo, a tiny arc curving at the corner of her mouth.

"What's wrong?" her companion asked in a low voice.

"This Fang Shen is about to be in trouble."

Just as Fang Shen was about to move forward, a low cough came from the entrance of the training hall.

The cough wasn't loud, but everyone in the training hall simultaneously froze. The cough carried a certain deterrent power born from long-term habits of being obeyed, like when an officer clears their throat on a warship and everyone instinctively stands at attention.

A man walked in from the entrance, about fifty years old, his hair cut extremely short, his temples graying. A long-standing scar ran from his left eyebrow bone to his jaw, as if it had been torn by the sharp claws of some monster.

He dragged his left foot slightly as he walked, his pace not fast but extremely steady. The deep blue Federal instructor uniform was stretched taut on his frame, and a faded legion badge was pinned above his left chest pocket. Instructor Meng Yuan.

Behind him followed two teaching assistants, one man and one woman, both twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, wearing the same deep blue uniforms but with different shoulder patches. After entering, the two didn't make a sound, each retreating to either side of the training hall to stand.

Instructor Meng Yuan walked to the center of the training hall and looked around at everyone present. His gaze was so indifferent that it didn't seem like he was meeting this group of students for the first time, but rather like he was taking inventory of a batch of signed military supplies.

"Twenty-four people, twenty-three have arrived. One is still missing, we won't wait." His voice wasn't loud, but every word felt like it was being hammered into their ears. "I am Instructor Meng Yuan, your instructor. These two beside me are my teaching assistants. In this training hall, there is only one rule: strength speaks. If you're dissatisfied, bring it up now. If you don't bring it up after today, then shut up and train."

As soon as he finished speaking, Fang Shen took a step forward.

"Instructor Meng Yuan." Fang Shen raised his hand and pointed at Lin Yan, his voice without a hint of hesitation. "This kid has an F-rank Talent. The people from First Awakening Middle School are not convinced that he can enter the Core Class. I request a duel with him, so everyone can see if he really has the qualifications to sit in that position."

Everyone's gaze in the training hall fell on Lin Yan simultaneously. The people from First Awakening Middle School exchanged a few glances, some with smug expressions. They knew Fang Shen's strength: a full set of Level 5 green gear and an A-Rank Talent "Steel Bones." Why should an F-rank from an ordinary school get into the Core Class?

Instructor Meng Yuan turned to look at Fang Shen, his face devoid of any extra expression. He looked at Fang Shen for two seconds, then turned to Lin Yan: "What about you?"

"I accept," Lin Yan said.

Instructor Meng Yuan nodded, his expression still unchanged, but his gaze lingered on Lin Yan for a moment longer.

"The duel arena." He raised his hand and pointed toward the back of the training hall, where there was a double-leaf alloy door. Behind the door, one could vaguely see an open circular field with light blue rune patterns embedded in the ground.

"There are three rules. First, each person will be issued a standard protective item; the match ends when one side concedes or the protective item is triggered. Second, you must not continue attacking after the opponent concedes or the item is triggered. Third..." He paused, his gaze shifting from Fang Shen to Lin Yan, and then back.

"Since you feel he isn't qualified, then the loser will be eliminated. They will be expelled from the Core Class, sent back to their original school, and the vacancy will be filled by a reserve."

The air in the training hall suddenly froze.

Elimination—not a warning, not a point deduction, but being kicked out immediately. On the first day of reporting, lose one match and you're packing your bags back to your original school.

The students from First Awakening Middle School who had been waiting to watch the show saw the smiles on some of their faces fade slightly. This was no longer just about saving face; it was wagering their entire qualification for the Core Class.

Fang Shen's pupils contracted slightly behind his helmet; he hadn't expected the instructor to raise the stakes to the maximum immediately. But he quickly regained his composure and glanced at Lin Yan: "No objection."

"No objection," Lin Yan said.

"Since there are none, everyone gather at the duel arena."

The double-leaf alloy doors opened completely. The duel arena was a circular field with a diameter of about forty meters. The ground was covered with a dark gray shock-absorbing mat, thicker than the one in the training hall, and underneath the mat, one could vaguely see rune patterns flowing slowly.

Several alloy pillars stood at the edge of the field. Once the runes on the pillars were activated, they would generate a translucent energy barrier around the perimeter to prevent attacks from spilling out.

The woman among the teaching assistants walked over and distributed a metal button the size of a knuckle to each of them. It could be activated by clipping it onto their collar; if they received a fatal or crippling attack, it would automatically release a shield and judge the match as a loss.

Fang Shen was the first to walk into the field. He stood in the very center, turned around to face the entrance, his full set of iron-gray gear gleaming coldly under the dim blue light of the barrier. The diamond-shaped shield on his left arm activated automatically as he stepped into the field, and a circle of pale gold runes spread out from the shield's surface, forming a faintly visible, translucent force field in front of him.

The eyes behind Fang Shen's helmet locked onto Lin Yan: "Come in."

Lin Yan walked into the field, didn't activate any skills, didn't take any fighting stance, and just stood ten meters opposite Fang Shen. The bone tumor breastplate, iron scale legguards, ant bone bracers, and fire scale boots he wore couldn't even form a resonance effect together; the gap between his gear and Fang Shen's Level 5 custom set was visible to the naked eye.

Fang Shen exerted force through his feet, compressing the ten-meter distance to less than a second. His left arm shield pushed forward as cover, and his right fist, carrying the inertia of the sprint, smashed straight toward Lin Yan's chest—a standard shield charge followed by a heavy punch.

The fist smashed solidly below Lin Yan's collarbone with a solid, muffled thud. Lin Yan's body swayed backward by a tiny margin, then steadied itself again.

Fang Shen didn't give Lin Yan time to catch his breath. A left straight, a right hook, a low left sweep, and an upper right cut—four attacks all landed on Lin Yan's torso and the side of his head, each punch carrying the power of the "Steel Bones" talent. The shock-absorbing mat under his feet was ground down with faint friction sounds. His attack rhythm was very dense, but everyone on the sidelines could see that Lin Yan didn't retreat.

The person being continuously attacked, besides swaying a few times, didn't make any blocking movements, nor did he have any intention to dodge.

Fang Shen was thoroughly infuriated by Lin Yan's actions. He stepped back half a step, the muscles in his right arm suddenly swelling, veins bulging.

The runes on the arm shield flashed simultaneously, and an extra surge of power was injected into his fist as he smashed his entire right arm forward. Steel-Crushing Punch.

He didn't hold back any strength with this punch. A muffled thud.

Lin Yan's body was finally forced back half a step, leaving a clear fist print on his breastplate. He could feel that force penetrating through the defensive layer into his body, heavier than all the previous attacks.

But his expression didn't change. In a pool of over 30,000 HP, this bit of damage was just a ripple on the surface. Meanwhile, Fang Shen's right arm hung at his side, his fingers trembling uncontrollably; the recoil from the Steel-Crushing Punch was backfiring on his own joints.

That feeling was like pounding hard against an invisible, majestic city wall—the wall didn't budge, and the harder he hit, the more damage he took himself.

Lin Yan loosened his neck with a very light movement, as if to relieve a slight soreness, and then he looked down at the ring on his right index finger.

The fine blood-red texture on the surface of the blood rage ring had already lit up a small section. All of Fang Shen's attacks just now had been charging it; every punch that landed on him converted the lost HP into stored damage, inching closer to that 10,000-point storage limit.

"My turn," he said.

He stepped back half a step with his right foot and clenched his right fist. The light effect of Blood Burning Strike lit up on his fist, consuming 5% of his current HP to convert into extra damage.

Titan Strength followed closely, converting 5 points of physical attack power for every 1,000 HP, maximizing the passive bonus from his over 30,000 HP. Then came the blood rage ring, all the stored energy released at this moment like a fully drawn bowstring, emitting a barely audible hum.

He stepped forward and threw a punch.

His body had almost no excess displacement, the rotation of his waist so short it was as if he only shivered. All the power was compressed into an extremely narrow trajectory, from his toes to his hips, to his shoulders, to his hand, piercing through section by section like a steel pile being hammered into the ground by a hydraulic press.

His fist struck the very center of Fang Shen's breastplate.

Fang Shen was sent flying off the ground, his body tracing a parabola in mid-air without any trace of a struggle, his back slamming into the energy barrier at the edge of the duel arena.

The barrier flickered violently, and his body slid down to the ground along it. A fist-sized dent was pressed into the center of his breastplate, the iron-gray metal cracking into several fine lines from the center of the pit, and the dark red rune core flickered twice before going out.

The shield from the protective item popped out half a beat too late after he slid to the ground, the translucent barrier enveloping him, and the system judgment popped up in front of everyone.

[Duel over. Winner: Lin Yan.]

The training hall was silent for a full three seconds.

Not a single person from First Awakening Middle School spoke. The one standing at the very front had his eyes nailed to the fist print on Fang Shen's breastplate. Some of the people next to him looked down at the ground, while others turned their gazes to other corners of the duel arena, but no one looked at the center of the field.

The girl who had cursed Lin Yan in a low voice earlier was silent now, the expression on her face changing from watching a show to a kind of complex stiffness.

In the corner, Song Youling finally couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her companion looked at her in confusion, and she waved her hand. She wasn't laughing because Fang Shen had lost miserably, but because she was the only one who had confirmed it with her own eyes just now: Fang Shen had been fighting a monster with an HP bar nearly six times higher than his own. Those heavy punches, those Steel-Crushing Punches, hitting Lin Yan was like throwing stones into a bottomless well.

Instructor Meng Yuan walked out from the shadows on the side of the field. He looked down at the fist print on Fang Shen's breastplate, then raised his eyes, his voice short and crisp: "Eliminated. Fang Shen, you go back to First Awakening Middle School."

He didn't look at Fang Shen, who was slumped on the ground; he simply executed the rule he had just announced, his tone devoid of any fluctuation. Then he looked up, his gaze sweeping over the students from First Awakening Middle School one by one: "Is there anyone else who wants to duel?"

No one answered.

Fang Shen pushed himself up from the ground, not looking up to meet anyone's gaze. He kept his head down, quickly crossed the edge of the field, and walked out through the side door of the training hall.

Instructor Meng Yuan shifted his gaze to Lin Yan and nodded.

"Return to the ranks."

Lin Yan walked back into the ranks, and Qin Chuan immediately moved a step closer to him, lowering his voice: "Awesome!"