Lapped until you questioned your life! The storage ring and formation disk were his!

Soon, the three-kilometer cross-country run entered its second lap.

The main pack, originally crowded together in a dark mass, had now stretched into a long line.

Most of the freshmen were so tired their steps had grown unsteady, their ragged panting merging into a chorus.

Relying on their solid conditioning, Zhang Liang and Zhou Zihao ran steadily at the very front of the leading group.

The medical mask Zhou Zihao wore to hide his embarrassment clung tightly to his nose and mouth during the strenuous exercise, suffocating him until his airways ached.

But he gritted his teeth and refused to take it off, his mind filled with images of showing off in front of Ruan Qingwu shortly.

"Young Master Zhou, keep your pace steady. First place today is yours for the taking." Zhang Liang buttered him up as he ran beside him. "Those losers in Lin Bei's dorm are probably already walking and panting back there."

Zhou Zihao sneered and glanced back at the main pack.

He saw neither that mountain of flesh, Fatty Wang, nor Lin Bei.

"They're probably eating exhaust at the very back." Zhou Zihao turned forward smugly.

But the instant the words left his mouth...

A burst of absurdly rapid footsteps suddenly came from behind, thud, thud, thud, making even the rubber track tremble.

Before either could react, a gale swept straight between them!

The rush of air even knocked Zhou Zihao's baseball cap askew.

Zhou Zihao focused his eyes, and they nearly popped out of their sockets.

Fatty Wang!

That mountain of flesh weighing over two hundred jin was tearing down the track at a speed that defied common-sense physics!

His flab shook violently in the wind, but his steps were as light as an antelope's.

As Fatty passed them, he even had the leisure to slow down for a second and turn his head toward Zhang Liang.

"Yo, sports rep, haven't eaten? You're moving like an old lady out for a stroll. Want Lord Fatty to give you a hand?"

With that, Fatty pushed off hard and left them in the dust.

Zhang Liang was completely dumbfounded. His legs kept churning mechanically, but his brain had crashed.

"Has that damn fatty gone nuts? Sprinting like this on the second lap-is he trying to kill himself?" Zhou Zihao cursed through his mask, grinding his teeth. "Ignore him! He'll be finished in half a lap at most!"

But he had barely finished cursing.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Two more figures swept effortlessly past them.

Liu Chen had taken off his glasses and was flying along. As he overtook Zhou Zihao, he even flipped him the middle finger.

Chen Mo followed close behind, his expression calm, not even his breathing rhythm disturbed.

Zhou Zihao exploded with anger.

He and Zhang Liang abruptly sped up, trying to catch them.

They would have been better off not chasing. Once they did, their composure shattered completely.

Those three up ahead weren't running. They were fucking racing cars!

The gap didn't close. Instead, it kept growing.

The girls' formation resting beside the field erupted.

Zhao Mengyao pointed at the track, dumbstruck. "Qingwu, look! Is a dog chasing Fatty Wang? Why's he running so fast?"

Still holding the cup Lin Bei had given her, Ruan Qingwu watched the three figures leaving everyone in the dust, a flicker of astonishment crossing her beautiful eyes.

Instinctively, she searched the very back of the crowd.

Lin Bei was trailing at the very end, strolling along unhurriedly. He even had time to admire the scenery outside the sports field.

Soon, it was the third lap.

Zhou Zihao felt as though his lungs were about to explode.

Running in a mask already left him short of oxygen, and he had forcibly broken his rhythm trying to chase Fatty earlier.

Now his throat tasted entirely of blood, and his legs felt as heavy as if they had been filled with lead.

Zhang Liang was little better, panting like an old ox.

Just then, those death-knell footsteps sounded behind them again.

Zhou Zihao turned back in horror.

Fatty!

Fatty had actually caught up again!

This was the fucking fourth lap!

Fatty had lapped them a whole time!

As Fatty passed Zhou Zihao, he actually ran backward for a couple of steps.

"Great Emperor of Missing Teeth, you're not much good at this either. You knocked your front tooth last night, and today even your legs have been knocked weak?"

Zhou Zihao was so furious his vision darkened. He stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face like a dog eating shit.

Fatty roared with laughter, turned around, and accelerated straight toward the finish.

Beside the finish line.

Instructor Zhao Tianlong stared hard at the stopwatch in his hand, watching Fatty cross the line first as though he had seen a ghost.

Liu Chen and Chen Mo followed right behind.

After finishing three kilometers, the three had barely even broken a sweat. They stood beside the finish line, chatting and laughing.

Zhao Tianlong's Adam's apple bobbed.

Nine minutes, fifteen seconds.

Three kilometers in nine minutes, fifteen seconds!

That was the fucking standard of a national first-class athlete!

And a fatty weighing over two hundred jin had run it!

This kid's lung capacity and explosive muscular power were even more impressive than those of the top soldiers he had led in the special forces brigade back then!

The main pack crossed the finish line one after another.

Supporting each other, Zhou Zihao and Zhang Liang dragged themselves over the finish line like half-dead dogs and collapsed straight onto the grass.

Zhou Zihao tore the black mask off his face and greedily gulped down air.

His front tooth, with half of it missing, was exposed, making him look utterly ridiculous.

As he watched Fatty and the other two chatting and laughing nearby, the jealousy and humiliation inside him nearly exploded.

Impossible!

A damn fatty, a four-eyed shut-in, and a bookworm-why the hell could they outrun him?

Zhou Zihao suddenly struggled up from the ground, pointed at Fatty, and shouted hysterically, "Instructor! I refuse to accept this!"

"They definitely cheated! They took performance-enhancing drugs!"

The entire field instantly fell silent, every gaze converging on Zhou Zihao.

Zhang Liang chimed in to back him up. "That's right! Instructor, Fatty Wang usually gets winded running fifty meters. How could he possibly run this fast today? Something's definitely wrong!"

Zhao Tianlong walked over, his face dark.

He glanced at Zhou Zihao's gap-toothed mouth, then at Zhang Liang, and suddenly raised his leg and kicked Zhou Zihao in the ass.

"Performance-enhancing drugs, my ass!"

"I've led soldiers for all these years, and I've never seen anyone need performance-enhancing drugs to run a measly three kilometers! Do you think they're cabbages? Ten yuan a bucket?"

"If you're not as good as someone else, shut your damn mouth! You train in sports and can't outrun a two-hundred-jin fatty, and you still have the fucking nerve to yap here?"

"If I were you, I'd dig a hole and bury myself right now! Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough?"

Zhao Tianlong's words bristled with barbs, sparing him not a shred of dignity.

The surrounding students froze for two seconds, then erupted into earth-shaking laughter.

"Hahaha, holy shit! The instructor's got a vicious tongue!"

"The Great Emperor of Missing Teeth brought this humiliation on himself. He couldn't outrun them, so he accused them of taking drugs. What a sore loser!"

"I'm dying! He even gave them a thumbs-down at the start, only to get lapped by Fatty. His dignity's been tossed all the way into the Pacific Ocean!"

Over by the girls' formation, Zhao Mengyao laughed so hard she couldn't straighten up.

Even Ruan Qingwu couldn't help curving her lips.

Sprawled on the ground, Zhou Zihao listened to the piercing mockery around him, mortified enough to die.

He wished there really were a crack in the ground he could crawl into right now.

Zhang Liang hunched his neck even further, not daring to let out so much as a fart.

Just then, Lin Bei strolled leisurely over the finish line, right at the passing cutoff.

He wasn't even breathing hard.

The moment he stepped over the white line...

Deep in his mind, that heavenly mechanical voice rang out right on time.

"Ding!"

"Detected that the host's roommates crushed the antagonists with an overwhelming advantage and caused them severe social death."

"Mission [Brothers' Glory] completed perfectly!"

"Distributing rewards..."

"One storage ring! One levitation formation disk! Deposited in the system space!"

A satisfied smile curved Lin Bei's lips.

He walked into an unoccupied patch of shade beneath a tree and pretended to rest, sending his divine sense straight into the system space.

In a corner lay a simple, antique silver ring.

Intricate cloud patterns were carved into its surface, and it emanated spatial fluctuations carrying an air of ancient age.

With a thought, Lin Bei sent a thread of Spiritual Power into the ring.

Instantly, a vast cubic space measuring over four meters in length, width, and height, totaling one hundred cubic meters, appeared in his mind.

It was completely empty, without the slightest movement of air. Time here was absolutely still.

Good stuff.

Lin Bei praised it inwardly.

From now on, he could stuff anything that couldn't see the light of day, or miscellaneous system rewards, inside.

He could even get extra portions at the cafeteria and put them in. They would still be steaming hot when he took them out, saving him even the need for a microwave.

Lin Bei looked at the faintly glowing levitation formation disk beside it.

It was about the same size as the spirit-gathering formation disk, but the formation patterns on it were more complex.

It could carry a one-ton load and hover fifty meters high.

Used well, this thing could definitely pull off all kinds of tricks.

Lin Bei withdrew his divine sense and stretched.

He'd made a killing this time.