9: Chapter 9 Training

At 1:00 PM, Chen Mo shouldered a bulging backpack, locked the door, and headed toward the mountain behind his house.

The pack was heavy.

But it wasn't the weight of equipment; the bag was filled entirely with food.

Chocolate, a bottle of syrup, a small jug of peanut oil, along with a few compressed biscuit bars and two bags of glucose powder.

All these items added up to just over 10,000 calories.

He had calculated it last night; estimating his current consumption at about 2,000 calories per hour of all-out training, 10,000 calories would last him roughly five hours.

If the training intensity increased further, this number would become even tighter.

10,000 calories—the intake for a normal adult male for four days.

Now, it was only enough for him to train for one afternoon.

A faint, discernible trail had been trodden into the path on the mountain behind his house.

He had been running back and forth every day for the past few days, finally leaving a thin layer of footprints on the dirt.

He jogged up the mountain along this path, not at a fast pace, just as a warm-up.

Regarding his breathing, he had recently noticed a change.

Previously, when exercising, his breathing was passive; when his body needed oxygen, he would pant.

Now, it was different.

His breathing seemed to have been precisely calibrated by his body; the amount of air inhaled into his lungs matched the amount of oxygen consumed exactly, neither more nor less.

Sometimes, after running for over half an hour, he could actually breathe through his nose the entire time without opening his mouth once.

It was his body adjusting itself.

He noted this phenomenon in his mind.

At 1:30 PM, he arrived at the clearing where he usually trained.

He didn't start immediately but first circled the grounds to check the environment.

This was a fixed procedure for every training session: clearing away recently fallen dead branches and confirming there were no traces of venomous snakes or wild boars on the ground.

Deep in the mountains and forests, it was always right to be cautious.

After the check was complete, he began the first item of the day: short-distance cross-country sprinting.

This was the most efficient training method he had discovered after testing over the past few days.

Short-distance all-out sprinting could engage over ninety percent of the muscle groups in his entire body while simultaneously stimulating his heart and lungs, explosive power, coordination, and core stability.

It had a wider coverage than simple Strength Training and stimulated muscles more deeply than long-distance running.

He had already run the route several times.

Starting from the edge of the clearing, he sprinted up the hillside, passed through a pine forest, rounded a large rock, and then returned to the starting point.

The entire course was about 600 meters, with uphill, downhill, and flat sections.

When going uphill, his legs exerted force.

The quadriceps on the front of his thighs became hard as stone the moment they pushed off the ground, his gluteal muscles pushed his hip joints forward, and his core tightened to keep his torso stable.

His arms swung rapidly, matching the rhythm of his stride.

The trees before his eyes retreated rapidly, and his soles made a continuous rustling sound as they stepped on the gravel.

Rounding that iconic boulder, he turned back.

Downhill, he lowered his center of gravity, controlling the landing point of his feet precisely beneath his body, without braking or slowing down.

His knees absorbed the impact of every landing like springs, then instantly rebounded, pushing his body toward the next landing point.

Previously, this kind of downhill sprint was the easiest way to sprain an ankle; stepping on a slightly loose stone would cause him to fall.

But now, that wouldn't happen.

His ankles and knees would automatically make micro-adjustments, redistributing his center of gravity the moment he stepped on an unstable footing.

It wasn't relying on experience or technique; it was his body doing it on its own.

Sprinting back to the starting point, he looked down at the split data on his training watch; he was nearly three seconds faster than yesterday, improving every day now.

He didn't stop to rest but immediately turned around and sprinted again.

The second time. The third time. The fifth time.

His stamina gushed out like water from an opened sluice gate.

He could feel the energy reserves in his muscles dropping notch by notch; his breathing went from even to heavy, and his heartbeat went from steady to rapid.

But that feeling of exhaustion never came.

It wasn't that he wouldn't get tired; it was that after getting tired, his recovery speed was faster than his consumption speed.

It was like a leaking bucket; as long as the faucet was turned on wide enough, the bucket would never be empty.

After finishing the tenth sprint, he stopped, supporting his knees with both hands to catch his breath.

Then he walked over to the backpack, picked up the bottle of syrup, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.

The mixture of glucose and fructose slid down his throat, cloyingly sweet, but his body responded almost immediately.

A warm current spread from his stomach, flowing along his blood vessels to the extremities of his limbs, replenishing part of the energy he had just consumed.

He broke off another piece of chocolate, shoved it into his mouth, chewed twice, and swallowed.

He had brought peanut oil today.

He hesitated for a moment, unscrewed the cap of the small oil jug, and brought it to his nose to sniff.

The smell of pure cooking oil, with no strange odors.

He held his breath, tilted his head back, and poured a small mouthful into his mouth.

The greasiness instantly coated his tongue and palate; the slick texture made him instinctively want to gag.

He forced it down, then took a large gulp of water to dilute the oily taste in his mouth.

A few minutes later, his body began to heat up.

It wasn't the heat generated by exercise, but a gentle warmth from the inside out.

This warm current was more lasting than the "quick recharge" provided by carbohydrates, and its caloric density was significantly higher.

A small mouthful of oil, about 100 milliliters, was 900 calories of energy.

And 100 milliliters was just one mouthful.

He had a good idea now.

In the future, the direction for his food would be high-density sugar-oil mixtures.

A normal person's digestive System requires bile to digest fats; eating too much would cause diarrhea.

But his body no longer had this problem.

Any energy that entered would be broken down, transported, and absorbed by that warm current.

He wasn't sure if this was the effect of the "Infinite Growth" ability itself, or if his digestive System had undergone changes under the stimulation of the ability.

But it didn't matter; what mattered was the conclusion.

In the future, he only needed to care about how much energy each unit volume of food provided, without needing to worry about whether it was protein, carbohydrates, or fat.