After the first round of the game ended, the last person from each team was instructed to write their final answer on a slip of paper and hand it to the instructors.
Throughout the entire process, speaking was strictly forbidden.
No one was allowed to communicate once the round had begun.
The training field was completely silent except for the sound of footsteps and the rustle of paper.
Zhao Mu stared intently as a male trainee from his team carried their answer forward.
Even so, he already knew in his heart that their chances were poor.
The message had passed through too many people.
By the time it reached the final person, it was almost guaranteed to be distorted beyond recognition.
As expected, when the three answer slips were opened and read aloud, the results were absurd.
Mo Guanguan's team had written:
"Chickens talking to ducks."
Shao Han's team had written:
"A roc spreading its wings."
Then came Zhao Mu's team.
"Water dispenser."
The field fell into stunned silence.
Then several trainees struggled not to laugh.
Even Zhao Mu's eyelid twitched.
This was not just wrong.
It was outrageously wrong.
Standing at the front, Instructor Zhang Biao folded his arms and looked at Zhao Mu expressionlessly.
"The third group loses."
"Captain, step forward."
Mo Guanguan and Shao Han both sighed in relief.
The others looked toward Zhao Mu with sympathy, curiosity, or amusement.
Everyone wanted to know what punishment the losing captain would receive.
The Price of Leadership
Zhao Mu stepped forward without hesitation.
Zhang Biao smiled coldly.
"If you want to be captain, then you must bear the responsibility of the whole team."
"The failure of your team members is your failure."
He pointed to the ground.
"Down."
"One hundred push-ups."
Zhao Mu immediately dropped into position.
His palms pressed firmly into the dirt, body straight and steady.
He did not complain.
He did not argue.
Instead, he thought calmly:
Only one hundred? That's manageable.
With his current physical condition, ordinary push-ups were nothing.
He began immediately.
One.
Two.
Three.
But before he reached ten, he suddenly felt a heavy weight land across his back.
Instructor Xie Yingxue had calmly sat down on him.
She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and crossed one leg elegantly.
"I'll count for you," she said.
"Begin."
Though not overweight, her physique was athletic and solid. Her weight added significant pressure.
The difficulty of the exercise instantly doubled.
Zhao Mu inhaled deeply.
Fortunately, it was still within his limits.
He even thought bitterly:
At least it's her.
If Zhang Biao or Xu Zhixiong sat on me instead, I might actually die.
So he continued.
His arms trembled.
Sweat dripped onto the dirt.
But his movements remained stable.
At last, he finished all one hundred repetitions.
Xie Yingxue stood up gracefully as if nothing had happened.
Zhang Biao waved a hand.
"Return to your team."
"You have one minute to discuss strategy before the next round."
Chaos in the Team
The moment Zhao Mu returned, dozens of trainees surrounded him.
Everyone spoke at once.
"This game is impossible!"
"The message changes too much!"
"We should cheat!"
"We can't cheat in front of the instructors!"
"If we don't cheat, we'll lose every round!"
Voices piled on top of each other in total disorder.
Zhao Mu raised one hand sharply.
"Quiet!"
The crowd fell silent.
"One at a time."
A trainee immediately spoke.
"There are fifty-three people passing the message. Accurate transmission is impossible. The only solution is cheating."
Another person snapped back.
"Cheat? Under the instructors' eyes? Do you think they're blind?"
A third added bitterly:
"If we don't cheat, then winning depends on luck."
Many opinions followed.
Very few were useful.
Zhao Mu frowned and thought quickly.
Then he spoke in a steady voice.
"If the punishment is only push-ups, I can still endure it."
"What matters now is understanding the rules."
"The loser is not simply the wrong team—it is the team whose final answer is furthest from the original."
"So we continue."
"We observe patterns."
"We adapt."
The group slowly calmed down.
Though they had lost the first round, many now felt unwilling to accept defeat.
A competitive spirit began to rise.
They wanted revenge.
They wanted their captain to stop suffering for them.
Second Defeat
The second round began.
Signals were passed down the line through gestures and body language.
People squinted, misunderstood, exaggerated, guessed, and panicked.
By the time answers were revealed, Zhao Mu's heart already knew the result.
Their team had lost again.
Zhang Biao laughed loudly.
"Captain!"
"Second round means double punishment!"
"Two hundred push-ups!"
"If you lose the third round, it doubles again!"
Only now did everyone realize how cruel the system truly was.
Lose three rounds in a row?
Four hundred push-ups.
Lose four?
Eight hundred.
Lose five?
One thousand six hundred.
The punishment escalated mercilessly.
Pressure descended on the whole team.
Not only on Zhao Mu—
But on everyone.
Because while Zhao Mu suffered physically, they felt guilt growing in their hearts.
Their weakness had caused it.
Their mistakes had made their captain pay the price.
Without complaint, Zhao Mu dropped down once more.
He completed two hundred push-ups under the burning sun.
His breathing grew heavier this time.
Sweat soaked his shirt.
But he still stood afterward.
Then he immediately raised a hand.
"Instructor."
"May we rearrange team order?"
Zhang Biao looked at him with interest.
"Reason?"
Zhao Mu answered instantly.
"The people at the back determine the final answer."
"The further the message travels, the greater the distortion."
"If weaker communicators stand near the front instead, stronger members can repair errors later."
Zhang Biao nodded.
"Allowed."
Reorganization
Zhao Mu turned back at once.
"Zhu Meng, you take the last position."
"You'll be responsible for the final answer."
Zhu Meng nodded immediately.
Besides him, Zhao Mu shifted several others.
Some with poor reaction speed were moved forward.
Some with better observation skills were placed near the end.
The third round began soon after.
This time, Zhao Mu believed they had a real chance.
Even statistically, they should not lose three times consecutively.
Yet when the results were announced—
Their hearts sank again.
The third group had lost.
Again.
Several trainees from the other teams openly smirked.
This time the punishment was four hundred push-ups in one go.
Some members of Zhao Mu's group clenched their fists in frustration.
Others merely watched with detached expressions.
After all, they were temporary teammates.
Not everyone cared.
Some even thought:
Who told Zhao Mu to volunteer as captain?
Four Hundred Push-Ups
Zhao Mu said nothing.
He simply lowered himself to the ground once more.
The scorching sun burned overhead.
The dirt beneath him radiated heat.
He began.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four hundred repetitions.
Each one slower than the last.
His muscles burned.
His shoulders felt like fire.
Sweat poured from his forehead and splashed onto the ground below.
Yet hidden beneath the suffering, Zhao Mu felt something else.
Opportunity.
As he exercised, the power-training function of the Demon Clown ability activated continuously, increasing his mastery and strengthening his body.
To outsiders, he was being tortured.
In reality, he was gaining benefits.
Still—
Repeated defeat was unacceptable.
That was not Zhao Mu's style.
If he was captain, then he intended to win.
Morale Collapses
After the punishment ended, the team once again gathered for their one-minute discussion.
This time, spirits were low.
Zhu Meng spoke first.
"Changing positions didn't help."
"As long as even one person in the middle makes a serious mistake, the final answer gets ruined."
Nearby, Meng Qiuqiu leaned close and whispered:
"There's no helping it."
"Many people in our group were leftovers from the selection."
"Their overall quality is lower than the other two teams."
His words hit the truth directly.
The trainees came from martial schools across the five counties and seven districts of Lujiang City.
Most already knew each other.
During team selection, the strongest and smartest candidates had largely been chosen first by Mo Guanguan and Shao Han.
That did not mean Zhao Mu's team was full of fools.
But in a game like this, even two or three slow thinkers could destroy the entire chain of communication.
That was enough to cause three consecutive defeats.
The group felt helpless.
This was not a contest of individual combat strength.
This was not a test of stamina.
Zhao Mu's personal excellence could not directly carry them here.
For the first time, many understood the weakness of relying on one talented person.
Several trainees lowered their heads in shame.
They could not even meet Zhao Mu's eyes.
In forty-degree heat, he had already done seven hundred weighted push-ups for them.
Yet he had not blamed anyone.
Zhao Mu Sees Through It
Just then, Zhao Mu smiled.
A calm, confident smile.
Everyone looked up in surprise.
"It's fine," he said.
"I understand the rules now."
The team stared at him.
Even those who had given up felt hope returning.
Zhao Mu wiped the sweat from his forehead and straightened his back.
"This game is not about passing the correct answer."
"It's about controlling error."
"It's about reducing distortion better than the others."
He looked toward the rival teams.
"Next round…"
"We begin our comeback."
His eyes sharpened.
"And this time, their captains will be the ones doing push-ups."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)