Chapter 105: Extension of the Corporate Battlefield (Please Vote for the Month)
Just like the Martial Arts Competition at Bailong High School, this year’s Sports Competition hosted by Ziyun High School was scheduled for midnight. However, unlike previous years, Songyang High School—long known for its serious investment in Sports Competitions—had arranged a private bus for the team this time.
At this hour, under the cover of night, five contestants—He Dayou, Zhang Yu, Bai Zhenzhen, and the other two—along with Wang Hai, the team’s coach, were all packed into the bus, speeding toward Ziyun High School.
In addition, Qian Shen and Zhao Tianxing, friends of Zhang Yu, had also managed to squeeze in thanks to Wang Hai’s leniency, joining the trip to watch the event.
But while Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen brimmed with determination, the others aboard the bus showed little interest. Some were cultivating Spirit Energy through breath control, others read books, and still others scrolled through phone videos—each treating the competition like a mere formality to get through.
Of course, even Songyang High students weren’t mindlessly scrolling. The video currently playing showed a woman over four meters tall, her shoulders wider than a truck, posing like a giant as she promoted Strengthening Medicine.
Wang Hai glanced at the screen and narrowed his eyes. “Stay away from these so-called ‘bodybuilding influencers.’ All fake. Just scams to sell you pills.”
The student frowned. “But Teacher Wang, this one has millions of followers. Lots of people have met her in person. She can’t be fake, right?”
Wang Hai snorted coldly. “How could someone reach that level of cultivation just by injecting drugs? It’s obvious they’ve undergone plastic surgery—fake muscles, dead tissue.”
As the number of high schoolers grew and the bodybuilding industry flourished, a new aesthetic had taken root: bigger was better, taller was superior.
Wang Hai knew all too well how extreme things had become. Under fierce competition, these influencers were pushing their physiques to grotesque extremes—abandoning real strength in favor of spectacle. Where once a normal height of two or three meters was standard, now some aimed for four or even five meters—unnatural, monstrous figures designed solely to attract attention.
“Real cultivators who rely on drugs, training, and a bit of surgical enhancement—those who stick to the basics—can realistically reach three meters tall and two meters wide. That’s the absolute limit.”
He shook his head. “The four-meter giants? They’re stuffed with fake muscle and artificial bones. Look closely—those needle marks on their bodies? The placement’s all wrong.”
Sighing, Wang Hai added, “Our company even funnels young people into loans for plastic surgery. Survive the operation, and you become a celebrity influencer. After a few years, when the side effects kick in, you’re dumped for the next trend.”
“They’ll lie about anything, sell any trash medicine just to make money. Don’t watch them.”
Why did Wang Hai know so much?
Because a classmate of his had taken that path—dying during a live stream, bankrupted by medical bills, unable to recover from the surgery’s aftermath.
Even Wang Hai himself had once been approached by a talent agency, nearly pulled into the same abyss.
But now, as he finished speaking, a wave of melancholy washed over him.
He thought of the recent breakthroughs in bodybuilding technology at Bailong, Ziyun, and Hongta High Schools.
For the past two weeks, he’d been using his connections to dig into what Luzhou Group had actually provided to the three schools—and what price the schools had paid in return.
This kind of technological leap would inevitably shake up the entire Songyang City bodybuilding market, and as a top-tier coach, Wang Hai knew it would drastically alter his own future.
But no matter how hard he tried, neither the schools nor their corporate backers would give him a single concrete clue—only vague hints visible during last year’s sophomore-level Sports Competition.
And recalling that event, Wang Hai’s expression darkened further.
He had watched, helpless, as Songyang’s sophomore students were utterly crushed—ejected from the rankings by the overwhelming dominance of the three elite schools.
Even Lan Ling—trained since freshman year, with her muscle fibers already transplanted from senior students—had been stomped into the dirt by the prodigies from the top three schools.
A bitter realization settled in: the era had changed.
And as he thought of that, his mind drifted to one name.
“Zhou Chichen…”
As a second-year student and vice president of the student council, Zhou Chichen should’ve been competing in this year’s Sophomore Physical Fitness Competition.
Yet he was absent—completely missing.
“Could he know something we don’t?” Wang Hai wondered.
At that moment, not far from him, Zhang Yu was also deep in thought.
After learning of the breakthroughs at the three elite schools, Zhang Yu had immediately asked his older sister—the top-ranked student in all of Songyang City, the number one senior at Bailong High School: Zhang Pianpian.
In his mind, he replayed her words.
“Luzhou Group, the companies and families behind Bailong, Ziyun, and Hongta—this year, they’re taking the Freshman Physical Fitness Competition very seriously.”
“Why focus on freshmen instead of other grades?”
“Because the younger the grade, the greater the impact of bodybuilding technology on scores. The difference between schools becomes more obvious.”
“Zhang Yu, this isn’t just a battle between students. It’s a clash of Immortal Dao Technology—between schools, between companies.”
“It’s the extension of the corporate battlefield.”
“And as for the other schools? To the three elite ones, it’s just a side task—something to crush for show.”
“To demonstrate the superiority of their advanced techniques.”
Zhang Yu remembered his own question.
“Sister… does that mean you don’t think I have a chance?”
Zhang Pianpian smiled faintly. “Whether I believe in you doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you have the strength to beat your opponent.”
Now, sitting in the bus, Zhang Yu stared at his Feather Scroll.
Do I have that strength?
It had been over a month since the last competition at Songyang High School.
In that time, thanks to the Hunyuan Pill, Zhen Linggen, and Chisui Hunyuanqi, his cultivation had surged forward—his Physical Strength Level had skyrocketed.
- Dao Heart: Level 4 (80%)
- Martial Energy: 43.9
- Physical Strength Level: 4.95
But even with these numbers, Zhang Yu felt unsatisfied. He sensed a plateau forming in all three core metrics.
“Sigh… Zhou Tian Cai Qi Fa isn’t enough anymore. My Martial Energy refining speed has slowed down lately. After this competition, I have to find a new breath cultivation technique.”
Techniques were graded from foundational to expert, military, and immortal sect levels—quality determined the tier.
But no matter how good a Qi-Refining method was, it couldn’t help beyond the Foundation Establishment Realm.
And Zhou Tian Cai Qi Fa was still just a beginner-level technique. Zhang Yu had long since outgrown it—now approaching sophomore-level cultivation. He needed something for the middle stage.
He thought again: The Dao Heart… Tianwu Cultivation of the Heart Scripture could still carry me forward. But the problem is—every session requires dual cultivation, mastering nine external martial arts.
But lately, Zhang Yu had been focusing entirely on boosting his Physical Strength Level through Chisui Hunyuanqi.
That left no time for Tianwu Cultivation of the Heart Scripture.
So he could only rely on Huangniu Zhenhun Xinfa in his mind—another beginner-level technique.
And that, too, would cap out around Dao Heart Level 5.
“So I need another technique—one that can be cultivated continuously in the mind, without needing physical movement.”
Then there was Physical Strength Level.
Thanks to Zhen Linggen’s support, combined with the Hunyuan Pill and the 10th-level Chisui Hunyuanqi, his strength had risen rapidly—until nearing 5.00, when progress slowed dramatically.
“Chisui Hunyuanqi is still usable. The bottleneck isn’t in the technique—it’s in the level.”
“Why the slowdown now? Probably because I’ve been pushing too hard recently. My heart hasn’t caught up.”
Unlike the drug-enhanced competitors, Zhang Yu had trained naturally, with minimal use of performance-boosting supplements.
His organs and heart hadn’t grown as fast.
But with Zhen Linggen’s help, he could feel his heart growing stronger every day—soon, it would be able to support another leap.
“So after this competition… I need to buy a new cultivation method and a heart-spirit technique.”
“And speaking of that… the prize money has kept rising. Now it’s a full 300,000—just for winning.”
The thought made Zhang Yu’s pulse quicken.
And the fact that the prize had ballooned so much confirmed what Zhang Pianpian had said: this wasn’t just a regular competition.
This was a high-stakes battle—big companies, massive stakes, unprecedented competition.
And Zhang Yu felt the pressure.
Even though only eight months had passed since the start of the school year, his base stats were already near the average level of Songyang High’s sophomores.
That was already a staggering pace—only the elite from the three top schools made him feel truly challenged.
From across the bus, He Dayou watched Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen, both radiating fierce determination.
He couldn’t understand it.
After all, how could they still be confident in a world where the three elite schools had just revealed breakthroughs in bodybuilding technology?
He hadn’t tracked their progress since the last Monthly Exam—too many days skipped, too much time lost.
But even so, how could two individuals possibly match up against such technological advantages?
Just then, the bus pulled to a stop at Ziyun High School’s main gate.
Unlike Bailong High’s sleek, modern skyscraper, Ziyun High appeared from the outside like a classical Chinese garden—bridges over flowing streams, pavilions, pagodas, all bathed in golden and white lights that gave the campus an ethereal, otherworldly glow.
The school’s grounds were vast, yet there were no high-rises—just serene landscapes, like a park.
To build such a campus in the heart of the city, it was clear: Ziyun High School was backed by unimaginable wealth.
After entering, Zhang Yu and the others were guided through a VIP corridor.
As they walked, a spray of disinfectant burst from the ceiling.
The Ziyun High School receptionist, apologetic, said: “Sorry, but our school rule requires all external visitors to undergo disinfection—to purify any impurities.”
What the hell? Zhang Yu thought, stunned. Are we supposed to be dirt?
Now he understood—Ziyun wasn’t just Le Mulan’s personal obsession with cleanliness. The entire school was a hygiene fanatic.
And just like Bailong High, this place was utterly ridiculous.
Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen stepped forward, standing tall.
Zhang Yu pointed at himself, then at the others. “I scored 660 or above in the Monthly Exam, won the Martial Arts Competition, placed fourth in the Mana Competition. We’re not like them.”
“I could get into Bailong High School for free. Do I really need to be disinfected?”
Bai Zhenzhen nodded. “Yeah. Is there a VIP channel for students scoring over 660?”
The receptionist shook his head, still apologetic. “Sorry, the rule applies to all outsiders. No exceptions based on scores.”
F this place. Zhang Yu thought. Even worse than Bailong.
In that instant, Ziyun High’s ranking in their minds plummeted to the bottom.
Then Bai Zhenzhen suddenly pointed. “Why aren’t they being disinfected?”
Everyone turned.
A group of students in Bailong High School uniforms walked past through another corridor—no disinfection, no fuss.
The receptionist smiled, as if the answer was obvious.
“Different rules,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re from Bailong High. As a partner school, they’re not considered outsiders.”
Wang Hai sighed. “Alright, enough. We’re here. We’ll follow their rules. No time to waste.”
A veteran coach with decades of experience leading teams to the top schools, Wang Hai had seen it all—humiliations, injustices, betrayals.
He was no longer shocked.
But in past years, he’d still clung to hope—some small chance for his students to win a medal, to restore pride.
This year… there was no hope.
He stepped into the disinfection channel first.
(End of Chapter)
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