Shao Han was in terrible condition.
Because the punishment forbade the use of Spiritual Power, he had no choice but to rely entirely on his raw physical endurance. Under normal circumstances, that might not have been impossible.
Unfortunately for him, he was not Zhao Mu.
Zhao Mu's body was abnormal enough to make most people question reality. Shao Han, on the other hand, was only an outstanding student by ordinary standards.
After reaching around eight hundred repetitions, his pace slowed dramatically.
By the time he passed one thousand, each movement looked agonizingly slow.
His body rose and fell like a snail dragging itself through mud.
If not for the occasional roar from the instructors, many would have assumed he had already collapsed.
His face had turned purple.
His arms trembled violently.
Sweat dripped from his chin like rain.
Several trainees watching from the side were genuinely worried he might faint at any moment.
Yet no one dared speak.
A Silent Punishment
More than an hour passed like that.
The training ground remained unnaturally quiet.
Hundreds of trainees stood in silence, watching one person suffer alone.
For Shao Han, it felt like an execution.
For the rest of Group Two, it was also punishment.
No one had been ordered to do push-ups themselves, yet everyone felt the pressure pressing down on them.
At that moment, all of the new recruits understood something clearly.
The military was cruel.
One person's mistake could cause everyone else to pay the price.
Just as Shao Han's careless behavior had dragged the entire group into this miserable atmosphere, a mistake on the battlefield might cost lives instead of discomfort.
That was likely the lesson the instructors wanted them to learn.
Responsibility.
Discipline.
Consequences.
Shao Han, however, had no energy left to reflect on philosophy.
He had already entered the stage where his push-ups no longer resembled push-ups.
His body flopped weakly up and down like a dying fish.
Many called it the "butterfly flap."
It was ugly.
It was embarrassing.
And it was all he had left.
He still had nearly six hundred repetitions remaining.
A Cup of Hope
Then, without warning, Instructor Xie Yingxue spoke.
"Go get him a cup of water."
The words struck Shao Han like divine music.
His dull eyes widened instantly.
His ears seemed to clear.
For one shining moment, he thought the punishment was finally over.
Someone quickly brought over a drink.
It was glucose water.
Xie Yingxue took the cup and held it in front of him.
Then she said coldly:
"You are not allowed to drink it."
"You may only gargle."
Shao Han nearly cried.
Still, while pretending to obey, he secretly swallowed a small mouthful.
That tiny sip felt like salvation.
Surely things would get easier now.
Surely he could recover.
Surely—
No.
The expected miracle never came.
His arms still shook.
His chest still burned.
His body still felt as if it were being crushed under a mountain.
And he still had over six hundred push-ups left.
That was true despair.
Zhang Biao's Lesson
At that moment, Instructor Zhang Biao sneered and barked at him.
"Did you think it was over?"
"Did you think I would pity you?"
"Wrong!"
His voice thundered across the field.
"When you reach a real battlefield, your enemies will not show mercy!"
"They will only push you deeper into despair!"
"When you are cornered, when you are exhausted, when no one comes to save you…"
He pointed directly at Shao Han.
"The only thing you can trust is your own strength!"
The words echoed through every trainee's heart.
Even Zhao Mu, standing among the formation, narrowed his eyes.
So that was the purpose behind all of this.
Boot camp was not merely physical training.
It was psychological tempering.
They were being taught how to endure suffering, how to obey orders, how to survive under pressure, and how to become soldiers capable of facing war.
By the end of this month, every recruit would be changed.
Zhao Mu Can't Take It Anymore
Then suddenly—
"Report!"
Zhao Mu's shout exploded across the field.
Everyone jumped.
Heads snapped toward him.
The other recruits looked at Zhao Mu as if he had lost his mind.
He wasn't the one being punished.
Why would he deliberately attract attention now?
Zhang Biao slowly turned his head.
The look in his eyes made it seem as if he wanted to eat someone alive.
He strode over in heavy steps and stopped directly in front of Zhao Mu.
"Recruit Zhao Mu!"
"You enjoy standing out, do you?"
"Tell me why you called out!"
Zhao Mu straightened his back and roared:
"To obey your orders, Sir!"
The answer was so sharp and clever that half of Zhang Biao's anger vanished immediately.
He snorted.
"Damn brat."
"You really are a genius."
"Your IQ must be one hundred sixty."
Then he narrowed his eyes.
"So tell me…"
"What do you want?"
A Volunteer for Punishment
Zhao Mu shouted with complete sincerity:
"Your words deeply moved me!"
"I have decided to accept the same punishment as Shao Han to strengthen my will!"
The training ground fell silent.
Everyone stared.
Even Shao Han paused mid-push-up.
No one could believe what they had heard.
Voluntarily asking for punishment?
What kind of person did that?
Someone muttered under their breath.
"He's insane…"
Even the instructors were stunned.
Zhang Biao, Xu Zhixiong, Xie Yingxue, and the assistant instructors had trained many batches of recruits.
They had seen cowards.
They had seen hotheads.
They had seen flatterers.
But they had never seen someone eagerly volunteer to be punished.
What they did not know was that Zhao Mu had an entirely different problem.
Watching Shao Han slowly struggle for two to three hours felt unbearable to him.
That much time could be used to train.
That much time could increase skill proficiency.
That much time could improve stats.
Ever since awakening the ability of the Demon Clown, Zhao Mu had developed something close to obsession.
If his progress bar was not moving, he felt uncomfortable all over.
Standing still was torture.
Training was relief.
The Perfect Student
Zhang Biao rubbed his ears.
"You are asking for punishment willingly?"
Zhao Mu shouted:
"It is my realization of the spirit you taught us!"
"It is also tempering myself!"
His eyes blazed with determination.
He looked like the ideal soldier from a propaganda poster.
For the first time, tears nearly formed in Zhang Biao's eyes.
He pointed dramatically at Zhao Mu and shouted to everyone else:
"If every recruit had Zhao Mu's awareness, we would have wiped out the Dark Races long ago!"
Then he waved his hand.
"Fine!"
"Go!"
"Be careful of the stones on the ground!"
At that moment, Zhang Biao looked at Zhao Mu with more affection than he would his own son.
Zhao Mu nearly laughed in delight.
He immediately dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups.
Something Is Missing
After a few repetitions, Zhao Mu frowned.
This didn't feel right.
He raised his head and looked at Instructor Xie Yingxue.
"Instructor Xie…"
"What are you waiting for?"
The field froze.
He continued seriously:
"It doesn't feel right without something on my back."
Everyone: "…"
Xie Yingxue blinked.
Then, realizing what he meant, she walked over expressionlessly and sat down on Zhao Mu's back.
Only then did Zhao Mu smile happily.
"Much better."
And he resumed his push-ups.
Total Misunderstanding
The trainees from Dormitory 207 watched with strange expressions.
Meng Qiuqiu thought to himself:
Brother Mu is terrifying. He completely outplayed the instructors.
But now I understand… he doesn't love training.
He's an M!
Zhuo Yun's eyes shone with admiration.
So this is his true preference.
He likes mature women.
He asked for punishment just to have the instructor sit on him.
Brother Mu… you are my idol.
Meanwhile, the most embarrassed person present was actually Xie Yingxue.
Originally, sitting on recruits was meant as humiliation and added punishment.
But since Zhao Mu had requested it willingly, the meaning felt completely different now.
She coughed awkwardly and tried to act normal.
Zhao Mu's Real Goal
Zhao Mu, however, cared about none of that.
He had already activated the Demon Clown ability.
At the same time, his Strength proficiency was rising rapidly.
Weighted push-ups.
Continuous resistance.
Perfect training conditions.
His arms moved powerfully and steadily.
Sweat poured down his body.
His breathing was smooth.
His expression was joyful.
Nearby, Shao Han's eyes turned bloodshot.
Zhao Mu!
You're doing this on purpose to provoke me!
His heart roared with rage.
But he did not even have the strength to curse aloud.
Twelve Years of Hard Work
The truth was simple.
Zhao Mu had always been stronger than Shao Han in physical tests.
For twelve years at Yuwu School, that had never changed.
Long ago, his friend Bu Yanhuan once told him:
"People like us, born poor, are different from the children of wealthy families."
"If we want to surpass them, there is only one path."
"We work harder than anyone else."
Talent existed.
Of course it did.
But sometimes, what people called talent was simply the result of relentless effort.
And perhaps—
Hard work itself was a kind of talent.
Zhao Mu loved the feeling of training under pressure.
Even if his muscles ached.
Even if sweat soaked his clothes.
Even if tomorrow he could barely move.
As long as he could see himself improving, he was happy.
Progress Never Stops
His arms pumped faster.
His back remained stable beneath the instructor's weight.
The progress notifications flashed in his mind.
[Strength – Innate Divine Strength: Proficiency 198]
Another push-up.
[Strength – Innate Divine Strength: Proficiency 199]
Another push-up.
Every drop of sweat.
Every breath.
Every repetition.
All of it transformed into strength.
And while the others watched in confusion, admiration, or horror—
Zhao Mu grinned.
To him, this was not punishment.
It was paradise.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)