LIGHTNOVELONLINE CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 40: A New Approach to Training
The harsh light of a post-apocalyptic dawn spilled through the dusty windows, marking the 22nd day since the world had succumbed to chaos. Today, according to Lu Ming’s meticulously crafted training schedule, was leg day. A day normally filled with grueling exercises like squats and leg presses, a symphony of groans and strained muscles. But unlike other Sundays, a spark of anticipation crackled in the air—today, Lu Ming had Zhang Chengcheng by his side.
Leg training was paramount in Lu Ming’s regimen. Powerful legs fueled explosive movements and, more importantly, boosted testosterone production, a key ingredient for enhanced performance. Building immense lower body strength also allowed him to push the limits of his workout equipment, which typically met its demise under the relentless assault of his training sessions.
Today, however, with Zhang Chengcheng’s ability at his disposal, the potential for progress is limitless. A slight adjustment to his routine was necessary.
“First, the warm-up,” Lu Ming began, a touch of formality in his voice. A proper warm-up was crucial to prevent injuries, but for Lu Ming, it had become a frustrating formality. The measly treadmill, incapable of surpassing his blistering speed, rendered a half-hour jog useless. It wouldn’t even break a sweat on him—a stark contrast to the pre-apocalypse days when such a workout could feel like a stroll.
But today, with Zhang Chengcheng’s power as a potential game-changer, things are different.
“Before we jump in,” he said, patting his chest, “let’s test the limits of your gravity manipulation. Use it on me.”
“All right,” Zhang Chengcheng responded, her voice laced with a hint of nervous excitement. With a focused gesture, a ripple of energy emanated from her hand, engulfing Lu Ming in its distorted field.
The world tilted on its axis. The familiar weight of his body doubled, a crushing sensation that would have sent him sprawling in the pre-apocalypse days. 200 kilograms, a significant upgrade from his pre-awakened weight of 150, pressed down on him. He could feel the strain building in his legs, but it wasn’t enough.
“More,” he gritted out, the challenge glinting in his eyes.
Zhang Chengcheng’s expression grew serious, her brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ll gradually increase it, Brother Lu,” she warned. “Just let me know when it gets too much.”
“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low growl.
With a deeper breath, Zhang Chengcheng pushed her power further. The gravity intensified, a relentless pressure that threatened to buckle even his strengthened legs. The familiar groan escaped his lips, not from pain, but from the exhilaration of finally pushing his limits.
The world warped around him, a distorted reflection of the weight he was now bearing. Two times Earth’s gravity. This was a whole new level, a training ground unlike any he had experienced before. The potential for growth… it was exhilarating.
Three times gravity. Four times… the weight continued to escalate, a relentless symphony pressing down on Lu Ming. At five times, a familiar strain returned, a welcome ache that pushed him beyond his pre-apocalyptic limits. Ten times. Fifteen times. Here it was. The world lurched—gravity a crushing force that mirrored the days before he awakened. This wasn’t simply the weight of three tons—the sensation was different, a deeper strain that resonated within his very core.
He glanced up, meeting Zhang Chengcheng’s gaze. A sheen of sweat beaded on her forehead, a testament to the exertion required to maintain this amplified gravity. “Fifteen times, right?” he rasped, his voice strained but steady.
“Yes,” she confirmed, a hint of exertion lacing her words. “It takes a lot out of me.”
Superpowers were a double-edged sword. They granted immense power but were fueled by a mysterious internal energy that demanded a heavy toll. Even with a target as small as Lu Ming, fifteenfold gravity took its toll on Zhang Chengcheng.
“How long can you hold it?” he inquired, already formulating his next move.
“Thirty minutes, at most.”
Thirty minutes. A frown creased Lu Ming’s brow. His usual workout routines stretched for an hour and a half, sometimes two. This new limitation demanded a strategic shift.
“All right,” he declared, acknowledging the need for a change. “Let’s take a break.”
With a gesture, Zhang Chengcheng deactivated her power. The crushing weight receded, leaving a faint echo in its wake. Lu Ming paced back and forth, lost in thought. Five minutes ticked by before he finally let out a long sigh.
“Thirty minutes…” he muttered, a challenge glinting in his eyes. “Looks like I need to adjust the plan.”
He stood at the entrance, revising his routine on the fly. Running for a warm-up? Inefficient with the limited time. He needed something intense, something that pushed him from the get-go. High-Intensity Interval Training—HIIT—sprang to mind. Jumping jacks, squats, lunges, push-ups—a rapid-fire sequence designed to burn fat, repurposed as his new warm-up. With his enhanced physique, it seemed like a perfect fit.
“Fifteen times gravity,” he announced, his voice resolute. “Begin!”
At his command, Zhang Chengcheng activated her power once more. The world lurched again, the crushing weight returning. Lu Ming, however, was a whirlwind of motion. He jumped, he squatted, he pushed himself to the limit, his body a blur under the amplified gravity. Every cell screamed, burning through energy at an alarming rate, sweat pouring down his face like a waterfall. Five minutes of this relentless assault, and Lu Ming had finished his warm-up. Yet, it felt like an eternity under the tyrannical weight of fifteen times gravity.
“Maintain the intensity!” Lu Ming barked, dropping into a perfect squat. This time, no additional weights burdened him—only his own body weight amplified by Zhang Chengcheng’s power. Initially, fifteen times gravity felt like a challenge, but not enough. He pushed her, demanding an increase to twenty times.
Down. Up. Arms held straight, his entire form a testament to controlled power. Each movement sent ripples through his muscles, his legs like writhing serpents—powerful, defined, and with a hint of raw energy. Twenty grueling squats, his form unwavering, then a gasp escaped his lips. “More! Twenty-one times!”
Sweat beaded on Zhang Chengcheng’s forehead, her exertion mirrored in the tremor of her hands. This was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Maintaining such a high level of gravity in a localized area was draining. Yet, Lu Ming continued, pushing himself further.
From the edge of the zombie defense perimeter, Wang Xiong, a former mixed martial arts expert, couldn’t tear his eyes away. He understood the importance of physical fitness in combat—agility, speed, strength, explosiveness—it was the foundation for any fighter. He’d devoured training manuals and honed his body through years of rigorous exercise. Watching Lu Ming, from the warm-up to the squats and stretches, a curiosity gnawed at him.
Twenty-five minutes later, the workout ended. Lu Ming panted heavily, his muscles screaming, while Zhang Chengcheng slumped on the ground, utterly drained. It was she who seemed more exhausted.
Wang Xiong finally broke the silence. “Brother Lu, do you enjoy training this much?”
Wiping sweat from his brow, Lu Ming simply nodded.
“But why?” Wang Xiong pressed. “Awakened ones don’t need training to get stronger. Our powers take care of that. At best, exercise just maintains our physical condition.”
This was the crux of his confusion. Fitness could only take an ordinary human so far, but awakening broke those limitations. An Awakened’s body was already beyond human peak. Wang Xiong hadn’t touched a weight since his awakening.
“I’m different,” Lu Ming finally replied, his voice ragged.
Wang Xiong exchanged a glance with Zhang Chengcheng, a flicker of understanding passing between them. They were on the verge of a revelation.
“You have a unique power,” Wang Xiong ventured, his voice turning serious. “A power that allows you to further enhance your physical strength through training? This… this is incredible!”
Lu Ming remained silent. He couldn’t explain the attribute system, but fortunately, Wang Xiong and Zhang Chengcheng were filling in the blanks for him.
Stroking his chin, Wang Xiong mused, “If that’s the case, then I might be of some assistance.” Witnessing Lu Ming’s workout, he couldn’t help but notice flaws—inefficiencies, a basic structure one might find in a beginner’s program. It wasn’t terrible, but it had immense room for improvement. As a former athlete, Wang Xiong’s expertise in fitness far surpassed Lu Ming’s. “Your training regimen,” he began cautiously, “seems… rudimentary. How about we work together to refine it?”
End of Chapter 40