112: Chapter 112 All the firefighters became withdrawn

Twenty.

Li Li released the horizontal bar with his right hand, while his left hand was still hanging on. His whole body swayed for a moment before he landed.

His heels struck the mat. He shook out his right wrist, flexed his fingers twice, and waved at Cheng Songyan.

"I can't do it anymore, I've reached my limit."

No one on the field spoke.

The live stream chat froze for a full two seconds, and then flooded with comments—

[Twenty single-arm pull-ups?????]

[Did I see that right? That was single-arm, not double-arm???]

[The Firefighters are all staring at him, did you guys notice that? Hahahaha.]

Two Firefighters were hanging on the adjacent horizontal bar. One stopped halfway through, arms bent, frozen in place.

The other just jumped down and wiped away some sweat.

"Did he really just... use one hand?"

"Twenty."

The two turned their heads simultaneously to look at Li Li.

Li Li was crouching on the ground, tying his shoelaces very carefully, even untying them and re-lacing them again.

Anyone could see that this guy was faking it.

His breathing was as steady as if he had just finished a casual walk, his arm muscle lines were defined, and there was no trembling from muscle engorgement. The action of shaking his hand earlier was purely a performance—to give everyone present a way to save face.

Shen Jue stood to the side, his mouth hanging open.

"Brother Li... this..."

"I can't do any more."

Li Li stood up, brushed off his pant legs, his expression unchanged.

Ji Shen walked over from the other side, his left arm still trembling—he had done eight double-arm pull-ups, which was already the most among the guests, excluding Li Li.

"Li Li, have you trained before?"

"Not really."

Ji Shen was silent for three seconds, then turned and walked away.

He needed to calm down; his title as the "King of Pressure" of the National Ping Pong Team had no effect here at all.

He had been completely countered by heaven!

The chat went wild—

[Not really? You call this not really?]

[I've been training for three months and can only do four double-arm pull-ups, and I'm listening to you say you haven't really trained.]

[I suggest you go straight to the Olympics.]

Gu Zeyan stood at the edge of the field, hands in his pockets. He could only do five, and even felt it was "not bad, average level."

Now he didn't want to go up anymore.

Tao Qianzhi was more nonchalant—since everyone was being crushed anyway, the gap between three or four and twenty was so huge that there was no need to feel embarrassed.

Han Su stood nearby, the veins in his neck still bulging. He had just done thirteen, a perfect score. Among the new Firefighters, that was very impressive.

But he had done double-arm.

The person opposite him, one-handed.

Han Su rubbed his fingers against his pant seams twice and said nothing.

He Manzhou stood in the female guest area, arms crossed over her chest, staring at Li Li's side for quite a while.

"Can he really only do twenty?"

Qi Wanyin pulled down the brim of her hat.

"Someone who can sing a song at a ninety-point level but only sings at eighty-five on stage is leaving the remaining five points for the band."

He Manzhou was stunned for a moment.

Qi Wanyin didn't say anything more.

Su Nianzhi listened from the side, her lips moving as she wanted to interject, but the conversation between those two had already ended, and she couldn't find an opening.

The field continued.

The Firefighters braced themselves and got on the horizontal bars. They couldn't lose face—if a variety show guest could do twenty, professional Firefighters couldn't be too far behind.

But reality was cruel.

Wang Gang gritted his teeth and made it to the seventeenth, his arms starting to shake. He got halfway up the eighteenth, got stuck, hung on the bar, his face turning bright red, held on for three seconds, and gave up.

He jumped down, panted for half a minute, and walked over to Li Li.

"Brother, for the next event, the shuttle run, just how fast are you?"

Li Li shook his head.

"Never run it."

Wang Gang stared at him for two seconds.

This guy was completely dry.

Wang Gang himself had sweat through half his training shirt, the collar was soaked, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Li Li stood next to him, not even a drop of sweat on his neck.

The "I can't do it anymore" expression from earlier spun around in his mind.

Wang Gang didn't ask again, turned and walked back to the Firefighter formation, muttering something as he passed Cheng Songyan.

"Captain, can we forfeit the shuttle run?"

Cheng Songyan ignored him.

The guests' pull-ups ended quickly. Gu Zeyan did five, Jiang Shiyu seven, Shen Jue six, Tao Qianzhi four.

Among ordinary people, that would be considered pretty good.

But after Li Li—it was at the "also participated" level.

The chat started making tables—

[Li Li: 20 (single-arm). The other five: 30 combined (double-arm). Conclusion: Li Li's one hand is approximately equal to 2/3 of the other five people's two hands combined.]

[I don't understand this math, but I know it's absurd.]

The women's events were jump rope and sit-ups, and the results were all within the normal range. He Manzhou took two first places based on her retired athlete background, Qi Wanyin was in the upper-middle, and Su Nianzhi gritted her teeth and didn't stop.

There were no surprises.

Everyone's attention was on the last men's event.

Shen Jue leaned over to Li Li.

"Brother Li, how many jump ropes can you do?"

"This isn't a men's event."

"I'm just curious."

"Never counted."

Shen Jue closed his eyes for a moment.

"Brother Li, can you stop saying you've never tried, never counted, or never run anything?"

Li Li thought about it.

"I've counted push-ups."

"How many?"

"I didn't want to count anymore once I hit three digits."

Shen Jue turned and walked away.

So infuriating!

The last event—the 4x10 meter shuttle run.

The Firefighters were smarter this time.

Usually, for this kind of test, everyone would scramble to go first, since the shuttle run is a basic firefighting physical fitness event, and a good score can add points.

But today—

A group of Firefighters stood behind the starting line, pushing each other.

"You go first."

"No, no, no, you go first."

"Let the guests go first."

Everyone was waiting for Li Li's score.

See where the ceiling is first, then decide if they want to run.

Cheng Songyan frowned.

"Wang Gang."

"Here!"

"You lead."

Wang Gang's mouth twitched.

"Report, Captain, I just finished the 1000-meter and pull-ups, my muscles haven't recovered—"

"You lead."

Wang Gang shut up.

Li Li stood in front of the starting line, looked back at the group, and shrugged.

"Fine, I'll go with him."

Cheng Songyan stood at the finish line, holding a stopwatch.

The perfect score line was 9.8 seconds. In daily Firefighter physical tests, running under ten seconds is considered excellent, and there are no more than five people in the whole station who can run under 9.8 seconds.

The whistle blew.

The moment Li Li pushed off the ground, Cheng Songyan's gaze locked onto him.

His starting explosive power was extremely strong but not exaggerated, his acceleration was even, and his braking and turning at the turnaround point were clean and crisp—no unnecessary stutter steps, his center of gravity was kept very low, and he launched himself across the ground.

The stopwatch stopped.

Cheng Songyan looked down.

8.8 seconds.

He turned the stopwatch over and looked at it again.

8.8 seconds.

A full second faster than the perfect score.

One second. Every Firefighter present knew what a one-second gap meant in the shuttle run event.

The chat went into a frenzy—

[8.8 seconds!!! Oh my god!!!]

[Perfect score is 9.8, he ran 8.8, is this human???]

[I suggest reprinting the physical test forms, changing the perfect score to 8.8, and noting it as "Li Li Standard."]

[The Firefighters collectively pretended not to see the score, hahahaha.]

Wang Gang ran a 9.9, barely making the perfect score.

Normally, he could brag about this score for a month.

Today, he glanced at the stopwatch in Cheng Songyan's hand and walked away silently.

A commotion broke out in the Firefighter formation.

Several team members who were still watching started backing away.

"I suddenly feel like my legs are a bit sore."

"My 1000-meter recovery isn't done."

"Instructor, I request to skip—"

On Cheng Songyan's clipboard, the total score column for Li Li was already full.

Three events, all maxed out.

15+15+15.

Perfect score 30, he had 45.

He added a line of text in the notes column next to it, the handwriting even smaller.

The telephoto lens captured it, and someone in the live stream took a screenshot and zoomed in—

**"Recommend Special Operations Team evaluation."**

Just at this moment.

The fire alarm blared.

The sharp buzzing sound pierced through the entire Fire Station, and all the Firefighters' bodies moved before their brains did.

The group of people who were just pushing, stalling, and letting others go first all changed the moment the bell rang.

No one spoke. No one hesitated. No one looked back.

The speed of over forty people rushing to the garage was even faster than Li Li's shuttle run just now.

Donning fire suits, buckling helmets, boarding the trucks, starting engines—the whole process was smooth and fluid. From the bell ringing to the first fire truck driving out of the garage, it took forty-seven seconds.

Han Su rushed out three steps from the guest pile, but was pressed on the shoulder by Cheng Songyan.

"You are not in the response unit. Go back."

Han Su froze, opened his mouth, but was blocked by Cheng Songyan's back.

Cheng Songyan was the last to leave. He hung the stopwatch back around his neck and paused when he passed the guests.

"Dismissed, go back to the dormitory. Wait for us to return."

After saying that, he turned and jogged to the command vehicle.

The sound of the siren faded into the distance.

Only nine guests, three new Firefighters, and a few live stream cameras remained on the training ground.

Shen Jue stood in place, looking at the empty garage, unable to snap back to reality for a long time.

"Brother Li."

"Hmm."

"They ran even faster than you just now."

Li Li didn't speak.

Gu Zeyan uncharacteristically didn't say anything.

Qi Wanyin gazed in the direction of the garage, took off her hat, spun it in her hand, and put it back on.

After ten seconds of silence, He Manzhou said softly.

"So this is what a Firefighter is."

No one answered.

The live stream chat also quieted down for a few seconds, and then the content that flooded in changed—

[Damn, that brought me to tears.]

[I was worried about the shuttle run being embarrassing, but as soon as the bell rang, they all ran off. This is what true courage is.]

[Stop comparing, stop comparing. The champion of the physical test is Li Li, but the real perfect score belongs to them.]

Li Li walked toward the dormitory building, pausing for a moment as he passed the garage entrance.

The lights were still on in the garage. A duty roster was posted on the wall, with the team leader for the day written at the top—

Cheng Songyan.

A line of small text was marked in red ink next to it:

"A-District Commercial Complex, heavy smoke alarm, initial assessment: Level 2."

Li Li stared at that line of text.

Level 2 response meant at least two squadrons mobilized together; the fire was already beyond the handling capacity of a single station.

He turned his head to look at the corner of the garage—spare fire suits hung on the rack, helmets and air respirators, all neat and tidy.

Han Su had walked up behind him without him knowing, also staring at the row of spare equipment.

Neither of them spoke.

Qin Xiaoshan took half a bag of spicy strips out of his pocket, just tore open the bag, and then silently stuffed it back in.

Shen Jue caught up.

"Brother Li, how long do you think it will take for them to come back?"

Li Li turned and walked toward the dormitory building.

"Depends on how big the fire is."

He walked two steps, paused again, and looked back at that row of spare equipment.

He didn't speak and continued walking.