5: Chapter 5 Test

4:17 AM.

When Chen Mo opened his eyes, the room was still as pitch-black as ink.

The night in Li City had not yet ended; the sound of cars occasionally driving by in the distance was dull and remote.

He didn't check his phone, nor did he set an alarm.

He had woken up naturally.

The first feeling after waking up was that he was full of vitality.

His mind was clear, his eyes were bright, and his body felt light.

He lay there for a few seconds, checked the time, and then realized he had only slept for a little over four hours last night.

He had lain down just past 11:00 PM, and now it was 4:00 AM.

At most, it hadn't even been five hours.

Yet he felt better than he used to after a full eight hours of sleep.

Chen Mo slowly sat up, leaned against the headboard, and summoned the system panel.

The dark gray interface appeared silently.

Name: Chen Mo

Age: 22

Ability: Infinite Growth

Strength (Punch Force): 221kg

Mental Power: 1.4 (Normal person is 1)

His punch force had changed from 216 kilograms last night to 221 kilograms.

After one sleep, it had increased by 5 kilograms.

His Mental Power hadn't changed; it was still 1.4.

He stared at that number for a few seconds.

When he first saw the system panel the day before yesterday, the number was 200.

In less than forty-eight hours, it had become 221.

An increase of over twenty kilograms—for any normal person who works out...

...it would likely take a year of systematic training to achieve, and that's assuming they have good talent, scientific training, a strict diet, and don't get injured.

Yet he had gone from 200 to 221 using only one night and one sleep.

"The recovery process itself is a form of strengthening."

He repeated this conclusion in his heart.

Last night's heavy training—250kg squats, 155kg bench presses, 270kg deadlifts—had left a large amount of micro-damage to his entire body's muscles.

A normal person's body needs forty-eight to seventy-two hours to repair this damage; once repaired, the muscles become a little stronger than before.

This is the underlying logic of fitness: damage, repair, supercompensation.

But his body had skipped some steps.

His body had arrived directly at the end point of "supercompensation" while repairing.

No, not arrived; it had rushed past it.

Moreover, during this process, there was no inflammation, no soreness, and no recovery period that needed to be endured.

He moved his shoulders and back a bit.

The feeling of fullness in his latissimus dorsi and erector spinae muscles from the deadlifts last night had completely disappeared.

His arms weren't sore, and his legs didn't feel heavy.

Then, there was hunger.

This signal had become as regular as breathing; whenever he became stronger, he would get hungry.

His body was telling him: Repair and strengthening are complete; now, please replenish energy.

Chen Mo didn't rush to the kitchen.

He sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the notebook and pen on the nightstand, and by the faint light of his phone screen, wrote a line under yesterday's record:

"May 11th, Day 3, 4:20 AM. Punch Force 221 (+5). Mental Power 1.4 (Unchanged). Sleep approx. 4.5 hours, fully recovered, no soreness whatsoever. The recovery efficiency brought by the ability far exceeds expectations; sleep requirements may be decreasing."

After writing it, he stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

Breakfast was about the same as yesterday.

But he added a big spoonful of peanut butter, digging out a whole spoonful and stirring it into his oatmeal.

Peanut butter is the kind of thing that has nearly 600 calories per 100 grams; one spoonful is 200 calories, with high fat content and extremely high energy density.

While eating, Chen Mo searched for "smart gym" on his phone.

In the last two years, several of these new-style gyms have popped up in Li City. They focus on digitalization, with treadmills, spin bikes, and rowing machines all connected to the internet. You scan a code to enter, and your exercise data is recorded automatically.

The most important thing is that these gyms have specialized sprint testing areas and long-distance running areas that use electronic timing, so there's no need for manual stopwatch operation.

For him, this was the most ideal testing ground at this stage; he could finish and leave, with the data saved automatically.

He found the nearest one on the map, about two kilometers from his residential complex.

These smart gyms are designed to be unmanned 24 hours a day, so going in the early morning was no problem.

At 5:20 AM, Chen Mo, wearing ordinary sportswear, pushed open the glass door of the gym.

In the vast space, there was only a middle-aged man walking slowly on a treadmill in the back, with earphones in his ears.

The LED tubes overhead emitted a cool-toned white light.

The air was filled with the smell of rubber from new equipment and a faint scent of disinfectant.

Chen Mo scanned his phone at the self-service terminal at the front desk and selected a single-visit pass.

The device automatically deducted the fee, and a "Welcome" prompt popped up on the screen.

He walked past a row of treadmills to the long-distance running test area at the very back.

This area was actually a circular indoor track with professional sports flooring, which provided just the right amount of cushioning when stepped on.

There was a sensor every certain distance along the inside of the track, linked with positioning cameras on the ceiling, which could accurately record the runner's lap time, pace, and total performance.

Chen Mo stood before the starting line, loosening up his ankles and knees.

He had never specifically trained for long-distance running.

Having worked out for four years, his aerobic training was limited to fast walking on a treadmill during fat-loss phases, or occasionally using the elliptical machine for half an hour with a client.

As for a pure, all-out sprint-style long-distance run, the last time was probably during his university physical fitness test when he ran 1,000 meters.

He remembered the result: four minutes and a few seconds. After finishing, his lungs felt like they had been burned by fire, and his throat was full of the taste of rust.

He placed his wristband against the sensor at the starting line.

The electronic screen overhead lit up, displaying "Ready — 3, 2, 1 — Start."

Chen Mo ran out.

The moment his first step landed, he felt something was different.

His breathing was steady.

Air was naturally inhaled through his nasal cavity, passed through his trachea, and flooded into his lungs; the entire process was quiet and efficient.

His heart was beating, but he could feel that every beat was full and powerful; blood was being rapidly pumped to his limbs, and abundant energy was flowing through his muscles.

His pace was fast, and he could feel the rhythm of the sports flooring rebounding beneath his feet quite intensely.

But he wasn't gasping, and there was no familiar burning sensation in his lungs.

His leg muscles were exerting force, but there was no soreness or swelling afterward, only a comfortable, constantly advancing sense of rhythm.

By the latter part of the run, he even felt a sense of pleasure.

One lap. Two laps. Three laps.

The electronic screen popped up the result the moment he passed: 1 kilometer, 3 minutes and 12 seconds.

Chen Mo slowly decelerated, walked a few steps, stopped, and took two deep breaths while resting his hands on his knees.

He looked down at the data synchronized to his wristband; his heart rate had already dropped below 100 within thirty seconds of finishing.

3 minutes and 12 seconds. This result was already close to the standard for a national second-tier athlete.

Yet after finishing the run, his breathing was stable and his body felt light.

He straightened his back, glanced at the split timing on the electronic screen beside the track, and then walked toward the sprint testing area.

The sprint area was a 100-meter straight track; the flooring material was different from the long-distance area—it was harder and bouncier sports flooring.

There were infrared sensors on both sides of the track, one every ten meters, which could accurately capture the runner's split speeds and top speed.

Chen Mo stood before the starting line.

Sprinting is different from long-distance running; long-distance is a test of endurance and cardiopulmonary function, while sprinting is a challenge of explosive power.

For a strength-based physique like his, weighing 85 kilograms, sprinting was definitely not his comfort zone.

The heavier the muscles, the greater the inertia that needs to be overcome during acceleration.

He took a deep breath, crouched, and started.

The moment his body sprang out, he felt the release of power.

His right quadriceps, hamstrings, and gluteus maximus exerted force simultaneously; power surged from the soles of his feet, pushing against the sports flooring, and the reaction force traveled along his bones to his hips, waist, abdomen, and then to his upper body.

His arms swung rapidly, driving the rotation of his torso, and every kick against the ground pushed his speed a little higher.

He covered the 100-meter distance in less than 13 seconds.

The electronic screen flashed the result: 100-meter sprint converted time 12.23 seconds.

Top speed 10.13 meters per second.

Chen Mo stood at the end of the track, panting heavily twice, feeling very excited.

12.23 seconds; to a professional sprinter, that's nothing.

But for a fitness coach like him who had never trained for sprinting and weighed 85 kilograms, this result was enough to prove one thing: his ability didn't just strengthen his power, it was a comprehensive improvement, regardless of which aspect he specifically trained.

Speed, endurance, cardiopulmonary function, explosive power—as long as he trained, he would get stronger.

Moreover, he noticed a detail: during those dozen seconds of all-out sprinting just now, the muscles of his entire body had been pushed to their limits.

His thighs were exerting force, his core was stabilizing, his arms were swinging, and even his toes were gripping the ground.

This sprint brought stimulation to his entire body's muscle fibers that was no less than a set of heavy squats.

After running, he began to feel the familiar sensation of heat, swelling, and tingling in his muscles—fainter than usual, but denser.

This feeling lasted for about two or three minutes before subsiding.

Then he felt that his muscles had already recovered.

He thought for a moment, walked back to the starting line, and began the next set of all-out sprints.

One set, rest for a few minutes.

Another set, then another.

He performed six consecutive sets of all-out sprints.

This type of short-distance, all-out explosive training consumed a massive amount of muscle, but the stimulation was also extremely deep.

He could feel that after every set, that flow of heat would circulate through his body, re-weaving the muscle fibers that had just been torn, making them thicker, denser, and more resilient.

After about an hour and a half of training, a feeling of being hollowed out surged up.

The oatmeal, eggs, and peanut butter he had eaten in the morning had all been converted into that flow of heat during the previous training, repairing his muscles and strengthening his power.

Now his energy was exhausted, his stomach was empty, and a sense of hunger spread up from his abdominal cavity.

Chen Mo stopped and glanced at the data on the system panel.

Strength (Punch Force): 224kg ↑

His punch force had changed from 221 to 224.

After nearly an hour and a half of all-out sprint training, it had increased by 3 kilograms.

He began to calculate in his mind.

If he followed this efficiency, one hour of all-out training could increase his punch force by about 2 kilograms—of course, this number would fluctuate with training intensity and physical condition—then if he trained for ten hours a day, his strength could increase by more than twenty kilograms net.

The corresponding energy consumption would be around 20,000 calories per day.

20,000 calories sounds scary, but if converted into food, it's roughly less than three kilograms of pure fat, or over five kilograms of cooked beef, or... more directly, just drinking oil.

Peanut oil has 900 calories per 100 grams; 20,000 calories is less than 2.5 liters.

Drinking 2.5 liters of oil a day sounds absurd, but it's not impossible.

He sat on a bench in the gym, a series of numbers flashing quickly through his mind.

In a month, his strength would be over 800 kilograms.

The paw strike force of an adult Bengal tiger is roughly 600 to 700 kilograms, up to a ton at its peak.

In one month, his punch force would be equivalent to a tiger hitting you with all its might.

What about after three months? After half a year? After a year?

This set of calculations made him go quiet, as if ocean waves were silently surging in his heart.

Punch force breaking a ton.

It wasn't a fantasy; it was himself, it was the number he would see every morning when he woke up, it was the ability that made him stronger as long as he trained.

At 6:30 AM, there weren't many vehicles on the road; a few runners passed by, each wearing earphones.

The city was still slowly waking up; everything was just as it always was.

He needed to find a place first—a place that was big enough, hidden enough, and where no one would see him.

Chen Mo thought of his hometown.