Wang Ye was sprinting around the track in circle after circle.
Initially taking one second per lap, he gradually increased to 0.8 seconds per lap.
The military officers and doctors stood southeast of the track, about ten meters away, constantly being pushed back by the blasts of air.
They shielded their faces with their arms, and even with their goggles, they couldn't help squinting, as the violent vibration from the wind and sand hitting the lenses caused their eyes to ache.
Everyone present was experienced elite soldiers who had undergone high-intensity training.
Even among average people, they could take on five or even ten opponents at once.
But in front of Wang Ye,
they couldn't withstand even a trace of his aura.
They tried to resist the onslaught of the wind, attempting to catch a glimpse of Wang Ye's running figure.
But all that came into their view was a gray blur racing around the track.
It almost formed a continuous gray line.
