Chapter 41: Feng Sanpao's Troubles

Chang Yu gaped in astonishment. It was the first time he had ever seen someone conjure an air cannon simply by rubbing their hands together. Just how fast would one’s hands have to move to achieve that?

“Feng Sanpao is able to compress air and shoot it out in the form of a cannonball,” explained Katerina, who was clearly unfazed and seemed to have long known of Feng Sanpao’s ability, in stark contrast to Chang Yu’s shock. “He stubbornly insists on calling this move the ‘Spiral Sphere’ and claims it’s a secret ninja technique invented by his father, Minato Namikaze.”

As she spoke, Feng Sanpao made another move. Planting his legs wide apart in a stance that was neither graceful nor standard, he thrust his hands powerfully forward from his waist. The blue vortex spinning rapidly in his palms shot out like a meteor toward a stone pillar ahead.

With a thunderous crash, the vortex met the pillar, unleashing a violent blast of wind. The gale twisted Chang Yu’s face and sent Katerina’s hair flying wildly in all directions. For a moment, Chang Yu found it hard to breathe, but the tempest soon subsided.

Opening his eyes, Chang Yu immediately looked at the pillar. There, a dent the size of a large stewpot had appeared—far larger than the one he himself had managed to make. “Isn’t this… isn’t this stronger than me?” His previously self-satisfied mood plummeted to the depths.

He had strained with all his might to leave a bowl-sized dent, while Feng Sanpao had casually delivered a blow resulting in something many times greater. The gap between them was overwhelming.

He hurriedly glanced at the display screen next to the pillar. “Still a C-rank!” he muttered, dazed and crestfallen. “Are all lunatics this powerful nowadays?”

As the saying goes, comparison only brings pain. He had hoped to use this power assessment to showcase his exceptional strength before everyone, to defeat all rivals and firmly establish himself as the leader of the rookie squad. Yet reality had dealt him a harsh blow.

First, Shi Chengjin had left Yong’an Security right after the meeting, not even bothering to join the training room for a test. This meant Chang Yu lost both a loyal audience and someone to serve as a foil to his brilliance.

Then Feng Sanpao’s extraordinary performance left Chang Yu in the shadows, making even the toughest man want to weep. That guy looked utterly unremarkable—a scrawny, oddball mental patient whose hospital gown hung loosely from his frame, the very picture of frailty. And yet, this was the person who had just outshone Chang Yu in an instant.

He had hoped to make Feng Sanpao the green leaf to set off his own dazzling flower, but instead, he’d become the green leaf himself, setting off someone else. To be outdone by a lunatic—Chang Yu’s wounded pride had reached astronomical proportions.

“That last strike was quite impressive—excellent explosive power,” Katerina did not skimp on her praise for Feng Sanpao’s display.

Feng Sanpao scratched his head bashfully. “Sakura-chan, please don’t flatter me so much. Even someone as outstanding as me… might get cocky.”

Katerina paused, then sighed heavily. “Though your dent was larger than Chang Yu’s, it still falls within the C-rank range. The grade only indicates a tier, not that all C-ranks possess identical strength. In fact, there are differences within a rank. Judging from your mark, you’re obviously stronger than Chang Yu.”

“Now that we’ve finished testing strength, let’s move on to speed. Our method for speed assessment is quite interesting—I think you’ll enjoy it.”

With that, Katerina led Chang Yu and Feng Sanpao toward a large machine. It resembled an arcade game from a shopping mall, consisting mainly of a big screen and a VR headset.

“Put on the headset and you’ll be able to take the test,” Katerina instructed Chang Yu.

He had seen people playing with such devices in mall arcades, so he imitated them, fitting the goggle-like VR headset over his eyes. Soon, under Katerina’s control, the big screen flickered to life.

Before Chang Yu appeared a classic game—a nationwide sensation in its heyday. “Wait… isn’t this Fruit Slice?” He recognized it at once; he’d played it countless times in the past. The game had once swept the country, capturing the hearts of countless young men and women.

“So the way you test speed is… by playing a game?” Chang Yu’s tone was uncertain, suspecting Katerina had made a mistake.

“That’s right, it’s a game,” she replied confidently. “Don’t underestimate Fruit Slice—it trains both physical movement speed and neural reaction speed. Get ready—the game is about to start. Don’t be nervous; the gameplay is no different from what you’re used to.”

As she finished, a rain of fruit began to fall on the big screen: apples, bananas, watermelons, and various other types. Through the VR projection, Chang Yu felt as if he was truly immersed in the scene, the fruit seemingly about to strike him.

As fruit after fruit dropped before him, he hurried to slash them in half. But unlike the version he remembered, this Fruit Slice game was far faster, the fruit plummeting so quickly he could barely keep up. Even as he swung his arms with all his might, many fruit slipped past unscathed.

At last, the game ended. The final score on the screen was 58—not even a passing grade. Panting, he removed the headset and handed it back to Katerina, grumbling, “This game is too hard. The fruit falls way too fast—I can’t react in time! My body can’t keep up, and 58 is already my limit.”

“This version is three times faster than the normal game. It was specially developed by the bureau for our internal training,” Katerina explained.

“No wonder the fruit drops so quickly!” Chang Yu finally understood.

“Three times speed is already the slowest setting we have here. There’s also five times and ten times—those are truly fast,” Katerina continued.

“What! There’s a five times and even a ten times speed?” Chang Yu exclaimed in shock. “Is that even a game for humans?”

“Of course. I once saw a senior play at ten times speed and score a perfect 100,” Katerina said. “And I should remind you—strictly speaking, we’re no longer considered normal humans.”

Her words left Chang Yu silent for a long time. Indeed, none of them could be called ordinary humans anymore. Who had ever seen a normal person punch with the force that would put Mike Tyson to shame? Or conjure an egg-sized air cannon just by rubbing their hands together?

“So I didn’t even pass the test just now?” he asked, feeling no satisfaction after recalling the senior’s performance.

“For us, three times speed is the slowest. A score of 58 really isn’t high.” Katerina, noticing his dejection, offered some comfort. “But from what I observed, it’s not so much your physical movement speed, but your neural reaction speed that’s lagging. In other words, it’s your reflexes that are holding you back. That’s what you need to train, because in battle, it’s usually those with slow reflexes who get hurt.”

“Work on your reaction speed whenever you can—this VR game will help you.” She then turned to Feng Sanpao. “Alright, Feng Sanpao, it’s your turn.”

“Sakura-chan, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Naruto!” Feng Sanpao muttered discontentedly, but put on the VR headset all the same.

His movements were even clumsier than Chang Yu’s. With his skinny frame swaying before the big screen, he looked like a stalk of foxtail grass ready to be toppled by the slightest breeze.

Chang Yu rubbed his forehead, averting his gaze, somewhere between wanting to laugh and being unable to. It wasn’t that Feng Sanpao was slow—his performance was simply a little too comical.

At length, the game ended. Feng Sanpao sat on the floor, panting, his face flushed and sweating profusely. Katerina glanced at the score: only 20, more than thirty points below Chang Yu.

“It seems you need to work on your physical training as well. In both movement speed and reaction speed, you’re far behind Chang Yu.”

Feng Sanpao’s face fell. “I know I did terribly, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve been slow since I was a child, and I’m not exactly athletic.”

“Your abilities are more of the spell-casting type. You don’t need to push yourself too hard,” Chang Yu said, stroking his chin. “If we’re comparing it to a game, my role is like a warrior—I have to fight face-to-face, so speed is crucial for me. But you’re different. You’re more like a mage—when it matters, you just need to hide behind us and charge up your big move. Speed isn’t as important for you.”