All-Nine Scores

Chapter Thirty-Six: All-Nine Scores

Slowly, more and more fists appeared. Once their number exceeded ten, especially when some began launching sneak attacks from behind, Zhou Leng could no longer evade them all completely.

The test proceeded to the second stage: blocking.

From this stage onward, Zhou Leng began incorporating footwork and movement techniques, swaying and flashing as he blocked.

Sometimes he slapped away punches with his palms, sometimes he blocked them with his arms.

The attacking red boxing gloves were both real and feigned, densely packed as though countless experts were attacking at once, leaving the eye dazzled.

Before long, Instructor Deng Zhijue said, "The warm-up is over. Now the final subject's test begins."

"For all impact-resistance tests over the next six months, true qi is forbidden. Otherwise, you'll receive a demerit and be kicked out of every ranking."

"Everyone, pay attention. Blocking and impact resistance are divided into three stages."

"The evasion stage, the blocking stage, and the impact-resistance stage. In every stage, do your utmost to achieve perfection."

"As for the third stage, if you can't endure it, you may call for a stop. Of course, points will be deducted..."

At the end, Deng Zhijue actually began to laugh.

The other instructors laughed along with him.

The students were baffled. It seemed as though something was hidden within the instructors' smiles.

"Ready... begin!"

A boxing glove shot straight at Zhou Leng's abdomen, and he sidestepped to evade it.

This punch was faster than the previous ones.

One, two, three... The number of boxing gloves attacking simultaneously kept increasing.

During the evasion stage, Zhou Leng relied on the Great Accomplishment Eight Trigrams Step and the Lesser Accomplishment Wandering Cloud Movement to dodge every attack.

Occasionally, someone in another room let out a soft cry.

Then came the blocking stage.

Densely packed boxing gloves came hurtling in from above, below, left, right, front, and back, without a single blind spot.

Zhou Leng dodged while shielding his head with both arms. Every so often, he threw a punch directly into a boxing glove and knocked it back.

The students outside frowned, because continuous muffled groans and startled cries came from many rooms, with occasional screams mixed in.

Before long, the test entered its third stage.

Bang bang bang bang...

The dense sounds of impacts rang through the entire arena. The students outside could no longer hear the muffled groans and soft cries—either the noise had drowned them out, or they had turned into uninterrupted shrieks.

The instructors were all smiles.

At the beginning of the impact-resistance stage, the number of boxing gloves increased, but their attacks weakened.

Most students still blocked with all their strength, secretly letting out a breath of relief.

Zhou Leng, however, did the opposite. He voluntarily gave up blocking, spread his arms apart, and allowed every part of his body to endure relatively light blows.

Zhou Leng was like a sapling in a typhoon, his body swaying and staggering under the dense barrage of boxing gloves.

Impact resistance was both a test and cultivation.

Before long, faint injuries appeared on Zhou Leng's body.

Gradually, the punches grew stronger and faster. Zhou Leng drew back his arms, covered his head, and curled up in defense like a turtle withdrawing into its shell.

Boxing gloves fell on Zhou Leng from every direction like raindrops, without pause.

There was nowhere to evade, nowhere to hide. He could only protect his head and endure the blows head-on.

Bang bang bang bang...

Fists crashed down like a gale, endless and unceasing.

Zhou Leng's guard was tight, but powerful boxing gloves still often knocked him from side to side.

Gradually, Zhou Leng's eyes became swollen and red. Everything before him turned black, and all that remained by his ears was the sound of mechanical arms extending and retracting, along with boxing gloves striking his body.

Zhou Leng gritted his teeth and endured in silence. Occasionally, a muffled groan was knocked out through his nose.

The students outside watched silently.

Before long, one student shouted, "I can't take it anymore! I surrender!"

The instructors' smiles widened, but they did not stop.

The students outside stared at the instructors in shock.

Deng Zhijue said with a beaming smile, "I lied to you. You can't surrender during the martial arts gym's impact-resistance test."

A chill ran through everyone from head to toe.

"Beasts..."

Bang bang bang...

"Aah..."

Screams and impacts rose and fell throughout the arena.

Under the lights, the instructors' smiles grew increasingly savage.

Suddenly, one Impact-Resistance Machine stopped.

"Another crispy college student. Drag him out."

An instructor walked in, grabbed the student by the shoulder, and dragged him directly onto a mat nearby.

A clear trail of blood remained on the floor.

Everyone looked at the unconscious student. His face was bruised and swollen, his body covered in injuries, while purple-blue bruises spread across his skin in connected patches. At last, they realized something.

Their student days were gone, never to return.

Then, the Impact-Resistance Machines stopped one after another, and the instructors dragged out student after student.

The instructors were like children scribbling graffiti, drawing messy yet vivid trails of blood across the floor.

At last, everyone understood why they had sensed a strange smell earlier.

The smell of blood.

Bang bang bang...

All fifteen Impact-Resistance Machines had stopped. Only one remained, its sounds echoing through the arena.

Everyone looked toward that room.

"Zhou Leng..."

Everyone waited silently.

Second by second, time passed. Finally, the noise stopped abruptly.

Instructor Deng Zhijue walked over, grabbed Zhou Leng's upper right arm, dragged him out of the room, and pulled him onto a mat.

There was especially much blood behind Zhou Leng.

The students waiting for their test stared blankly at the people lying haphazardly across the mats.

Nearly everyone looked the same: battered from head to toe, covered in connected patches of purple and blue, their faces swollen like pig heads.

At a glance, they looked like sixteen corpses.

The brutality of a battlefield came rushing straight at them.

Deng Zhijue smiled. "Remember this feeling. Oh, they can't hear me."

The instructors took out medicinal pills and stuffed one into the mouth of each unconscious student.

Zhou Leng's fingers twitched slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.

His entire body hurt and tingled. He felt weak and limp, able only to lie there.

Zhou Leng rolled his eyes, saw the students lying on the floor, and recalled what he had endured before passing out. He vaguely understood the truth of this exam.

These instructors really were beasts...

Still, his body felt warm. His eyes did not seem as swollen, and his wounds were healing quickly.

It just hurt.

The others woke up one after another, and soft cries and hissing gasps rose and fell.

The students still standing wanted to laugh, yet did not dare.

"Instructor, that was too brutal... Hiss..." Feng Wenhao, whose face was swollen like a pig head, could not finish speaking before pain forced him to shut his mouth.

"If there hadn't been groin guards, my mom would definitely be blocking the entrance tomorrow, cursing up a storm... Ow..."

"Second round, sixteen students. Please enter."

As Wei Hong walked, he muttered under his breath, "Please enter the slaughterhouse."

Then, the cries from the second group of students rose and fell one after another.

The evasion stage, the blocking stage, the impact-resistance stage...

Bang bang bang...

"Holy shit..." Wei Hong's shout spread throughout the arena.

The students outside could not help laughing.

After the second round came the third.

By the fourth round, forty-eight students lay on the mats, watching the final two students enter with tragic solemnity.

Many students wore smiles similar to those on the instructors' faces.

Scores no longer mattered.

Other people's screams were the only cure for their pain.

As the final two students were dragged out of the Impact-Resistance Machines, Instructor Deng Zhijue announced with a smile.

"Today's Opening-Semester Martial Test has come to a perfect close. Thank you all for your cooperation. I will now release the overall results. Please check your phones."

The students' bodies were stiff as their eyeballs turned, looking at Deng Zhijue from straight on or at an angle.

Wei Hong said, "Instructor, do you think we can get our phones in this state?"

"Consider yourselves lucky. Once you officially enter the Blood-Circulating Stage, if you still can't quickly get up from severe injuries, then wait to die on the battlefield."

After saying that, Deng Zhijue joined the other instructors in circulating qi through the students' blood, setting bones, and treating injuries one after another.

Before long, Deng Zhijue came to Zhou Leng's side, grabbed his left hand, and pressed their palms together.

Surging true qi flowed along Zhou Leng's arm and poured into every part of his body.

His wounds healed, pooled blood was cleared away, hidden injuries were eased...

"All right, Student Zhou All-Nine," Deng Zhijue said, then walked toward someone else.

"Really? All-Nine?" Wei Hong asked loudly.

"Go look for yourself," an instructor said.

The students who had undergone qi circulation slowly stood up, spread their legs apart, and shuffled forward step by step.

Groans once again rose and fell throughout the arena.

Zhou Leng walked over to his backpack and put on his Demonic Wristwatch.

He opened the class group chat and brought up a screenshot of the score sheet.

Zhou Leng.

1. Sprinting: 94 points.

2. Evasion Run: 94 points.

3. Weighted Run: 96 points.

4. Obstacle Run: 98 points.

5. Weightlifting: 95 points.

6. Punching Power: 92 points.

7. Total True Qi: 93 points.

8. True Qi Intensity: 98 points.

9. True Qi Control: 100 points.

10. Qi-Enhanced Weightlifting: 91 points.

11. Maximum Attack Intensity: 94 points.

12. Average Attack Intensity: 95 points.

13. Blocking and Impact Resistance: 98 points.

Total Score: 1247 points.

Average Score: 95.9 points.

First in Class 01.

Zhou Leng looked once more at the class's overall score rankings.

Lu Juncai, in second place, had 1248 points.

The difference was less than two points.

Zhou Leng looked over Lu Juncai's results. In weightlifting, punching power, total true qi, true qi intensity, and qi-enhanced weightlifting, he had scored 100 points in all five subjects.

These five subjects were the famous "Five Pill Subjects." By consuming pills from childhood and constantly improving one's physical qualities, one could reach 100 points.

The advantage of perfect scores in those five subjects was enormous. If Zhou Leng had possessed even the slightest weakness, he would have fallen behind.

Lu Juncai slowly walked over, gave Zhou Leng a thumbs-up, and said, "You crushed me, a 'pill student,' purely through your own strength. I'm completely convinced."

Not far away, Chang Luan pricked up his ears, then looked at his own results with a dejected expression.

1183 points.

He was more than thirty-seven points behind Zhou Leng.

Fifth in the class.

Just one step away from entering the top four.

If Zhou Leng had agreed, I'd already be fourth... Chang Luan thought silently.

Deng Zhijue said loudly, "All right, today's basic test is over. The Ru City Freshman Ranking will update tomorrow, so everyone can go back. Oh, and don't forget tomorrow's military training."

"Huh? We're injured this badly, and we still have military training tomorrow?" Wei Hong said.

Without even looking at Wei Hong, Deng Zhijue walked outside while glancing at Zhou Leng. "Remember, gather outside the class Martial Dao gym at eight o'clock tomorrow morning for military training. If you don't want to come, you don't have to."

Everyone sat on the ground, wailing miserably.

Deng Zhijue headed straight for the curator's office.

"Curator!" Deng Zhijue saluted as he walked in.

"What is it?"

"Zhou Leng and Lu Juncai from our class both had excellent results. If my estimate is correct, they should enter the top five hundred of the Ru City Freshman Ranking tomorrow. Zhou Leng in particular achieved All-Nine Scores in the Opening-Semester Martial Test. This has never happened before—not only in the history of Ru City Martial Academy, but even in the history of Ru City Martial University. I hope to apply for scholarships for the two of them."

Wang Boxiong nodded.

Deng Zhijue continued, "Our academy's scholarships fall into four major categories: school scholarships, city scholarships, Martial Guard Department scholarships, and national scholarships."

"National scholarships can only be applied for after the monthly exam, but we can begin preparing the other three Martial Dao scholarships now."

Wang Boxiong asked, "What scholarships, specifically, can Zhou Leng apply for?"