Military training at Kyoto University was still in full swing. Han Feng stood in the ranks, sweat trickling down his temples and leaving dark stains on his camouflage uniform. Zhao Yang paced back and forth in front of the ranks with his hands behind his back, his hawk-like eyes locking onto Han Feng every few minutes.
"Third row, fifth person! Step forward!" Zhao Yang suddenly shouted.
Han Feng took a step forward expressionlessly, his heels clicking together crisply. This was already the umpteenth time he'd been singled out.
"Military posture demonstration!" Zhao Yang said with a faint, cold smile.
Han Feng stood upright, his hands pressed tightly against his trouser seams, his perfect posture like a drawn sword. The surrounding classmates exchanged glances; everyone could see that Zhao Yang was targeting Han Feng. Ever since noon on the first day, Zhao Yang had been targeting Han Feng for some unknown reason, and Han Feng always managed to complete Zhao Yang's orders, causing this targeting to intensify.
"Look! Now that's what you call standing at attention!" Zhao Yang circled around Han Feng, then suddenly kicked him in the back of the knee.
Han Feng's muscles tensed instantly, remaining completely still. A flicker of surprise crossed Zhao Yang's eyes, quickly turning to annoyance. "Hold this position for one hour! Everyone else, stay put and rest!"
A few suppressed sighs rose from the ranks. Li Cheng approached and whispered a few words to Zhao Yang, who retorted loudly, "I'm training according to the rules! Some students like to show off, so they should bear the consequences!"
Han Feng's lips twitched almost imperceptibly. He could easily take down this arrogant instructor, but that would expose too much. He didn't want his identity revealed here; that wouldn't be a good thing for him.
The scorching sun continued to bake the playground. Suddenly, a muffled thud came from the back row, and a boy fell straight to the ground.
"Playing dead again?" Zhao Yang scoffed, kicking the unconscious student with his toe. "Students these days are really useless. Can't even stand for a little while! Medic! Take him away!"
A cold glint flashed in Han Feng's eyes. Just then, the system notification sounded:
Ding: Host, a face-slapping moment has been detected.
Option 1: Compete with Zhao Yang in a physical contest. Reward: Divine Medical Skill Proficiency Level +1 (Current Level 6)
Option 2: Compete with Zhao Yang in various military skills. Reward: Physical Enhancement Level +1 (Current Level 3)
"Zero, explain the physical fitness level," Han Feng asked silently in his mind.
"Physical level determines the host's physical limits." Zero's voice was somewhat lazy. "Level 3 is enough to crush most gene warriors, and at max level... even a nuclear bomb can't hurt you in the slightest."
Han Feng's pupils contracted slightly. Was this level of physical enhancement really that monstrous? Even a nuclear bomb couldn't kill him.
"Zero, upgrade my options." Han Feng said without hesitation.
"Options have been upgraded. Option 2: Compete with Zhao Yang in various military skills and absolutely crush him. Reward: Physical Enhancement Level +1 (current level 3)."
"Wait, why are the rewards for the upgrade options unchanged?" Han Feng asked in astonishment.
Zero scoffed: "Who told you that upgrading options can increase rewards? This system can be set up however it wants~ What can you do about it?"
Han Feng almost laughed out of anger at this shameless reply, but now was not the time to argue. He suddenly relaxed his stance, turned around, and walked towards his classmate who had fainted.
"What are you doing? Get back to the team!" Zhao Yang shouted sternly.
Han Feng ignored him and knelt down to check the unconscious classmate's pulse. "Heatstroke and dehydration, needs immediate treatment." He looked up at Zhao Yang directly, "Since the instructor thinks our physical fitness is lacking? Then what constitutes 'fit'?"
The entire arena fell silent. Everyone held their breath, watching this unexpected confrontation unfold.
A sinister glint flashed across Zhao Yang's face, followed by a cold laugh: "Don't think you're something special just because you can do a few basic moves. In the eyes of a real soldier, your fancy footwork is nothing!"
"Really?" Han Feng slowly stood up, the muscle lines beneath his camouflage uniform faintly visible. "Then I'll have a competition with the instructor and see what the difference is."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Li Cheng was about to say something when Han Feng stopped him with a look, leaving him only to sigh softly.
Zhao Yang, however, gleamed with excitement, like a shark smelling blood: "Good! Very good! Today I'll show you what real military skills are!" He ripped off his hat and threw it on the ground. "What kind of competition? A five-kilometer run with weights? Obstacle course? Hand-to-hand combat? Your choice!"
"All of them," Han Feng said calmly. "Every single military training subject, without exception."
Zhao Yang paused for a moment, then burst into laughter: "Overestimating yourself! The loser has to crawl around the track three times and bark like a dog! Dare you?" He then gave Li Cheng a provocative look.
"Okay." Han Feng nodded. "Let me add one more condition: if you lose, you withdraw from this military training, and a different instructor will come."
Zhao Yang's expression changed slightly, but he quickly regained his arrogance: "Get ready to embarrass yourself, kid!"
Half an hour later, the entire school's teachers and students gathered at the edge of the training field. The news spread like wildfire: a student had challenged the "devil instructor" Zhao Yang!
The first event was a 5-kilometer cross-country run with a weight. Zhao Yang, carrying 30 kilograms of gear, looked at Han Feng with disdain: "It's not too late to admit defeat now."
Han Feng didn't answer, only adjusted his sling. With the starting gun, the two shot off like arrows. For the first two kilometers, Zhao Yang could barely keep up, but starting from the third kilometer, he was horrified to find that Han Feng not only didn't slow down, but actually sped up! When Han Feng crossed the finish line, Zhao Yang still had a full lap and a half to go.
"Impossible..." Zhao Yang gasped for breath, his face ashen.
The subsequent obstacle course and combat... each event became a one-sided crushing victory. Han Feng's movements were as precise as a machine, yet possessed a flowing, graceful beauty. When he executed an over-the-shoulder throw in the combat segment, slamming Zhao Yang to the ground, the entire arena erupted in deafening cheers.
Zhao Yang squatted on the ground, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"It's not over yet! We'll see who's the best at the shooting range tomorrow!" Zhao Yang seemed very unconvinced and said fiercely to Han Feng.
"No problem, just don't start making excuses when you lose." Han Feng looked at Zhao Yang indifferently, then turned and left.
At this moment, the students around him also looked at Zhao Yang with strange eyes, which made Zhao Yang even angrier: Han Feng! Just wait and see how I deal with you tomorrow!
When Han Feng returned to the villa that evening, he received a call from Li Cheng.
"Captain, should I ask the higher-ups to transfer Zhao Yang away?"
"No need, I've already told Elder Lin that I'll let Zhao Yang leave on his own after tomorrow's event," Han Feng said with a smile, toying with the teacup in his hand.
"This Zhao Yang is trying to challenge the captain; he's practically kicking a titanium alloy steel plate. He's overestimating himself." Li Cheng also found it somewhat amusing; he knew Han Feng's strength all too well.
"By the way, Zhao Yang will definitely tamper with tomorrow's shooting. Don't try to stop him. Since we're going to slap him in the face, let's make it even bigger."
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