Chapter 6: Extraordinary Transformation

Neon lights flickered, and the night breeze was gentle.
Leaving the subway station, Su Yi walked home.
After winning the championship, he had completed all the necessary procedures. The moment he learned that eighty thousand yuan would be credited to his bank account the next day, he suddenly grasped the life lesson behind the phrase, "Auntie, I don't want to try anymore."
With his belly full and his body warm and lazy, Su Yi wanted nothing more than to return to his den and sleep soundly.
He called his department supervisor to let him know he was heading home; the supervisor, knowing Su Yi’s usual honesty and diligence, didn’t ask for details.
He bought a pile of snacks at the convenience store downstairs and returned to his rented one-bedroom.
Though he called it a dog den, it was actually kept fairly clean. At the foot of the bed was a narrow window, barely a meter from the window of the neighboring apartment building. That side was home to an old toy poodle; late at night, Su Yi could always hear the dog grinding its teeth.
Seven hundred yuan a month—what more could one ask for?
He mused whether any transmigrator in the stories on Qidian Academy had ever returned and done something as earth-shattering as he had today. Grinning foolishly, Su Yi collapsed onto his bed.

————————————————

Whose dream ends first? I alone know my life.
Su Yi awoke from a deep, satisfying sleep, every muscle aching so much he groaned in pain as he stretched.
Fortunately, the soreness faded quickly; as his mind cleared, the pain diminished to almost nothing.
He saw a new world.
The dim room was now bright as daylight. Raising his head slightly, the mold patterns at the junction of ceiling and wall were sharply visible. He clenched his fists and felt explosive strength surging through his body.
"You have obtained Limit Break Enhancement. Would you like to extract a skill?" a voice sounded in his mind.
"Confirm."

“Extraction in progress.”
“Skill acquired—Sandstorm. Upon activation, the host can generate a violent wind within a ten-meter radius. The skill consumes substantial stamina; overuse may result in death.”
After the voice fell silent, Su Yi sensed his body and confirmed that a mere thought would trigger Sandstorm. He eyed his cramped apartment, suppressing the reckless urge to try it.
If that’s the case, let’s see what this Limit Break Enhancement can really do.
Su Yi sprang from the bed like a coiled spring. Unable to control his momentum, he nearly crashed into the wall, stopping himself with both hands just in time.
Impressive core strength!
He lifted his shirt and gasped. Eight sharply defined abs greeted him.
Good heavens, he’d slept himself into an eight-pack.
Dropping to the floor, he did three hundred push-ups in one breath, rising without even panting.
Recalling the electronic scale under the bed, Su Yi stepped on it.
Two hundred and two pounds.
He was only 179 centimeters tall; his highest previous weight had never exceeded 135 pounds, yet now he’d gained sixty or seventy pounds, with no sign of bulkiness.
What about strength?
He took a deep breath, turned off the apartment light, and walked to the window. He stared at the dog’s den opposite; the poodle, startled awake by a terrifying aura, glanced at him and, as if struck by a mental blow from a formidable enemy, curled into a ball, a faint pungent odor drifting over.
Did it just faint from fright? Su Yi was speechless. He’d merely focused his gaze, recalling novels where masters exuded kingly aura, and unexpectedly it worked.
Su Yi stretched his hand out the window and gripped the rusted steel security bars.
He exerted a bit of force.
They didn’t budge.

Su Yi reconsidered; after all, these bars—meant to thwart criminals and requiring hydraulic cutters—could withstand at least a thousand or two Newtons of force. If he could snap them effortlessly, it wouldn’t be Limit Break Enhancement, but superhuman.
Applying himself seriously, the bars finally creaked and yielded, opening a gap wide enough for a person to slip through.
Luckily, he’d managed without breaking them.
Su Yi slipped through in a flash; his flexibility was astonishing, like a contortionist, he passed through the bars with ease.
His room was on the fifth floor. The narrow alley between buildings was less than a meter wide, mosaic tiles covering the walls, and from the window to the ground was at least thirteen meters—a height that would make any ordinary person’s legs turn to jelly.
But Su Yi, skilled and bold, contracted his limbs, dropping six or seven meters before his hands flashed out to brace against the wall, slowing his descent, and landed firmly on the ground, making barely a sound.
He unlocked his phone to check the time—just past four in the morning. Dim lights dotted the rundown block, like slumbering giants in the darkness; all was quiet. Su Yi listened intently, his hearing magnified beyond imagination. He could hear distant doors and water from someone upstairs, and the sparse traffic out on the street.
It was chilly in October in Zhonghai’s late night, but Su Yi’s body was hot, unfazed by the cold. With time to spare, he decided to go for a long-overdue morning run, something he hadn’t done since his school days.
He took a few strides, needing less than a minute to familiarize himself with his body’s new coordination, then shot out like an arrow.
His speed increased rapidly, until he was running flat out, swift as the wind. The wind roared in his ears, yet he caught every subtle sound around him, allowing him to make sharp ninety-degree turns at the end of the footpath without slowing down.
At one corner, a sanitation worker’s garbage cart suddenly appeared in his path. In a split-second, Su Yi’s extraordinary reflexes kicked in; with a graceful hurdling motion, he cleared the obstacle, vanishing before the worker could even react.
Looping from the outer ring inward, Su Yi finally stopped and checked his phone again. He was drenched in sweat and breathing hard from the sustained sprint, but the fatigue was no more than after a routine thousand-meter run. He reckoned he could keep up this pace for another ten minutes or so.
He checked the time—about twelve minutes since he’d set out. Opening the map app, he estimated he’d covered roughly seventeen kilometers.
What was Bolt’s hundred-meter record again? Nine point five eight seconds! Which meant he was now the true speedster.
So Su Yi thought.