"Today, I have to work hard. I have to make Prajna Seven Kills produce that crisp sound!"
Fat Zhuge encouraged himself. Born into a prestigious family, he had his own pride.
Though his talent was mediocre compared to Su Tu and the others, he refused to slack off. He had come here to practice in secret and throw himself into the grind.
The moment he pushed open the training hall doors and saw Su Tu's figure standing above the crackling sparks, the corners of his mouth began twitching uncontrollably.
"Maybe I should just give up. I can't beat that talent, and I can't even out-grind him!" Fat Zhuge clutched his head helplessly.
He had not even met the entry requirements for Prajna Seven Kills yet.
Yet that bastard had already reached Minor Mastery. Fine, his talent was absurdly high—but he had even arrived earlier than him.
It was not scary when a grinder worked hard. What was scary was when a genius started grinding too!
Was he seriously not going to leave anyone a way to survive?!
Fat Zhuge felt like crying.
But he quickly adjusted his mindset. By now, this batch of students had all reached a consensus: never compare themselves to Su Tu.
Comparing yourself to someone close to your level might ignite your fighting spirit, allowing both sides to encourage each other and grow stronger.
But comparing yourself to a monster like Su Tu would only make you more and more hopeless. It would be one thing if you could endure that despair and chase after him with all your might, but if that despair consumed you and cast a shadow over your mind, the consequences would be severe.
Previously, Zhou Wuliang had even specifically spoken to these students, worried that such a situation might arise.
```