The Power of One Punch Rivaled a God

After collecting his registration form, Luke could head to the various stations for the physical fitness tests.

Luke looked over the form in his hand. There were ten events in all: weightlifting, high jump, a 1,500-meter race, shot put, standing long jump, a punching machine, whack-a-mole, and more.

Each event was worth ten points, for a total of one hundred.

Luke understood the first few, but a punching machine and whack-a-mole? Weren't those arcade games?

Luke gave it a moment's thought.

The punching machine was probably there to measure contestants' punching power, while whack-a-mole would test their reaction speed.

The traditional events sounded pretty boring, so Luke decided to check out the punching machines.

Contestants could spend the rest of their time however they liked, lining up wherever the queue was shortest. They only had to finish every event, submit their total score to the staff for registration, and wait to hear back.

Apparently, only the fifty contestants with the highest fitness-test scores would advance to the interview round.

Following the signs posted around the venue, Luke soon found the punching-machine station.

A neat row of punching machines stood across the testing area.

They were different from the ones in arcades—noticeably larger, for one thing. Apart from the striking pads, their bodies were made entirely of metal and looked extremely sturdy.

They could measure a far wider range of punching force than arcade machines, with a maximum reading of an astonishing 3,000 kilograms.

Three thousand kilograms was clearly beyond what a normal human could punch.

No matter how strong someone was, they could let loose on one of these machines.

Luke checked his registration form.

Men's Group Fifteen.

He walked to machine number fifteen, where more than a dozen people were waiting ahead of him.

Everyone in line was a burly man, tall and imposing, with powerful muscles on display. Luke looked rather out of place by comparison.

Since contestants could choose the order of their tests, most started with an event they were good at. Anyone who chose the punching machine first had to be thoroughly confident in their strength.

It was no surprise, then, that the line was full of hulking men.

Several burly men in the neighboring line saw the frail-looking Luke queuing up and began pointing at him with mocking expressions.

Walker Group's selection was open to every citizen, and anyone who signed up could compete. But for trash like him to enter was obviously a waste of time—and an invitation to humiliate himself.

"Ahahaha..." The men huddled together and muttered a few words before bursting into laughter.

Luke had already noticed the strange looks and heard their open mockery, but his expression did not change.

To Luke now, something so petty was hardly worth a ripple of emotion.

Suddenly, a wave of astonished cries rose from the crowd ahead.

Everyone turned to look at a lean, muscular man with dark skin.

The man had just finished his test. As he looked at the score on the display, he could barely contain his excitement.

The number on the scoreboard was the result of his punch.

800 kg.

Everyone farther back in line looked stunned when they saw it.

What did an eight-hundred-kilogram punch mean?

It could kill a healthy bull.

The punch shocked everyone present, and some began to think about withdrawing.

If they could not match someone else even in their best event, how could they compete with these freakishly gifted contestants in the others?

After all, this selection process had only one opening.

The dark-skinned man's performance dealt a crushing blow to some contestants' confidence. Several turned and left dejectedly.

All at once, there were several fewer people ahead of Luke.

Soon, it was Luke's turn.

After the dark-skinned man's astonishing result, the tests that followed had felt rather dull.

Luke's arrival finally stirred a little interest.

Having seen what a strong contestant could do, the spectators wanted to see a weak one make a fool of himself.

With that build, he'd be lucky to hit a hundred kilograms.

That was what everyone thought.

A few people were already smirking.

"Ready?" asked the scorer beside the machine.

Luke nodded.

Then he stepped up to the punching machine.

Usually, contestants turned sideways and leaned back slightly before throwing a punch, building up speed for the strike.

Luke made none of those extra movements.

He stood straight and extended his left hand.

Then he threw an utterly ordinary-looking punch.

The striking pad exploded.

Under everyone's stunned gaze, the all-metal punching machine, weighing well over a thousand pounds, went flying.

Boom!

The machine warped grotesquely, its body caving inward. It traced an arc through the air before slamming into the gymnasium wall.

A huge hole opened in the wall, and a violent tremor ran beneath everyone's feet.

The scorer could hardly believe his eyes. What kind of monster was this?

The force of that punch had to be far more than five tons.

It might have been over fifty!

A long while passed before the scorer came back to his senses. With a trembling hand, he wrote a crooked "10" in the event column of Luke's registration form.

Ten points came nowhere close to capturing the shock that punch had left him with.

The power of that single punch rivaled a god's!

The scorer handed the form to Luke. His uncontrollable shaking made the paper rustle in his hands.

Luke took it and walked away without a change of expression.

People scattered to either side, leaving him a wide path.

Every gaze held a trace of fear.

No one had imagined that this unremarkable-looking bald man was such a terrifying monster.

The men who had mocked Luke so freely were especially shaken. Once their initial shock passed, a chill ran down their spines.

If that punch had hit me, there wouldn't be anything left.

As Luke walked toward them, their legs shook like leaves. One of them even collapsed to the floor.

Luke passed right by without so much as a glance.

Only when he had gone did the men finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Bowing to the strong and trampling the weak was human nature.

Now that they had witnessed Luke's unimaginable punch, everyone at the venue had the same thought.

Mom, I don't want to play anymore.

I want to go home.

Thanks to I Love Me I Love Me, Hello Lord Qing, Ordinary Novel Reader, and everyone else who sent recommendation votes! Thanks as well to everyone who commented in the chapter or the comments section! Your support is the greatest encouragement an author could ask for. Thank you all!

(End of chapter)