Chapter 7
Meng Huai didn’t even glance at the boy collapsed on the floor, lazily waving his hand: “Someone help him back to his chair to lie down. You weaklings might catch a cold lying on the ground, and then the principal will come trouble me.”
The few boys who had been chatting lively with the yellow-haired boy exchanged glances, none daring to move.
It was Su Bei, who hadn’t spoken to him, who leisurely stood up, effortlessly grabbing the boy’s collar, lifting him from the ground, and casually placing him on the chair, giving a gentle push to his back. The boy naturally slumped onto the desk, looking as if he were merely asleep.
Who says unconsciousness isn’t sleep?
Thanks to years of persistent intense training, Su Bei’s physical condition was far beyond ordinary.
He handled physical tasks with ease. By his estimation, in Class F, only the class monitor Mu Tieren’s physical condition could compare to his.
After finishing, he nodded to Meng Huai and returned to his seat under everyone’s gaze.
Others feared Meng Huai, but he couldn’t possibly be afraid. The reason was simple: a man from a military background who became a teacher at an Ability academy would never harm students.
Yes, in his view, Meng Huai was most likely a former soldier.
His own father was a soldier, so he was very familiar with the profession. Though Meng Huai appeared slouched and casual, his walking posture, the instinctively straightened back, and his overall demeanor all told Su Bei his identity.
Besides, according to typical manga progression, a homeroom teacher like this would either become an ally to the protagonist group or a minor arc. In any case, he wouldn’t be sent away at the start of the school year for harming a student.
So there was nothing to worry about. Stepping up to help might even earn him more panel time in the manga.
Seeing Su Bei’s fearless attitude, a glint of interest flashed in Meng Huai’s eyes. Just as Su Bei could tell he was a soldier, how could Meng Huai, with his sharper eye, not notice the traces of military training on Su Bei?
Interesting.
If he recalled the student records correctly—and he had memorized them—Su Bei’s file only mentioned that both his parents were deceased, with no indication of a military background.
But Meng Huai quickly curbed his curiosity, his eyelids drooping lazily again. Whatever Su Bei was hiding, a new student in Class F wasn’t worth his attention yet. He’d care when Su Bei climbed to Class A.
That said, could someone with a trash Ability like [Gear] really make it to Class A? Unless his Ability wasn’t [Gear] at all.
At that thought, he curled his lip, mood improved, and said to the class: “It’s the first day of school, so I won’t push you too hard. Run ten laps around the field, then you can eat.”
Ten laps around the field?
At those words, everyone’s eyes widened. Many felt their world collapse.
Ten laps? Why not just kill them outright!
Endless Ability Academy might not have many students, but it covered a vast area. The school field alone was a full 1,600 meters.
In other words, ten laps equaled 16,000 meters. Junior high boys had only ever run 1,000 meters at most, and girls 200 meters less.
Though awakening an Ability greatly improved physical condition, who could handle a sixteen-fold increase!
And it was already 11:30, nearly lunchtime. Though Meng Huai hadn’t said it explicitly, the implication was clear: they could eat only after finishing the run.
Sixteen thousand meters would take even Su Bei, with his excellent physical condition, an hour and a half.
For other students, three hours was a starting point. Running on an empty stomach would only make it more grueling.
Most students immediately wore bitter expressions, but Meng Huai’s earlier display of strength kept them from protesting. They could only whisper complaints about the teacher leaving them no way out.
Su Bei, seated in the back, couldn’t see the front students’ faces, but their body language revealed plenty.
The complaining students mostly slouched, leaning this way and that, clearly disheartened.
But a few sat upright, mentally prepared, like Jiang Tianming and Lan Subing.
Lan Subing, realizing she might not need to do a self-introduction, was already thanking the heavens, uncaring about what came next.
As for Jiang Tianming… from the first season of the manga, due to childhood hunger and deprivation, his physical condition was average, but his willpower was exceptionally strong. Even if he couldn’t run, he wouldn’t falter before starting.
Glancing back, Su Bei noticed the white-haired boy behind him had sat up at some point. Up close, his refined features were even clearer.
High nose bridge, pale but well-shaped lips, smooth facial lines. Yet the most striking feature was his golden eyes—clear, innocent, untainted, as if untouched by the world’s desires.
Unlike Su Bei, his white hair lay softly on his head, slightly messy from just waking up. But a stubborn strand of ahoge atop his head showed the hair wasn’t as docile as it seemed.
The white-haired boy gave a reserved yawn, looking toward the podium with a bored expression: “Mm… time to run?”
Su Bei naturally replied: “Yeah, ten laps. Let’s go, no food if you don’t finish.”
From his observations, since the white-haired boy slept through the homeroom teacher’s opening speech, he was clearly someone who prioritized his own comfort. Food was likely important to him.
Sure enough, at those words, the boy’s face turned serious. Dropping his earlier languid, refined demeanor, he stood decisively: “Then we’d better hurry.”
After taking a few steps, he suddenly realized his actions might seem like abandoning a bridge after crossing it. Turning back, he asked somewhat sheepishly: “Together?”
A hint of amusement flickered in Su Bei’s eyes. If the other hadn’t invited him, he wouldn’t have followed. Too degrading.
Good thing his efforts weren’t wasted.
“Sure, I’m Su Bei. You?”
“I’m Feng Lan,” the boy said earnestly, pausing before adding, “Nice to meet you.”
Clearly, this was a sheltered young master who’d had little social interaction in his life. His earlier reaction was likely drilled into him by family.
Su Bei quickly tagged Feng Lan with a few mental labels, then closed the distance further, breaching normal personal space: “How’s your stamina?”
He was testing, gauging Feng Lan’s tolerance for such proximity. If he stepped back, it’d show he preferred distance, and Su Bei would keep a safe gap. But if he didn’t move, it’d prove he was a blank slate in this regard. A blank slate could be written on freely, couldn’t it?
Faced with the sudden closeness, Feng Lan’s pupils contracted slightly, instinctively wanting to retreat, but he forcibly restrained himself: “My stamina’s probably decent.”
Su Bei noted this, not pushing further: “Good, let’s go.”
By now, a few classmates had already left. His earlier chat with Feng Lan wasn’t just to bond but also to delay.
As a semi-otaku, Su Bei knew readers’ minds. A manga character always being first was loved, but if that wasn’t possible, one or two firsts paled compared to the popularity of someone revealed to be holding back.
He knew himself well. His stamina was good, but compared to students in other classes with physical Ability boosts, it fell short. His Ability was even less certain, unclear how far he could tweak it via the manga.
Thus, rather than vying for Class F’s top spot and exposing his limits, it was better to hold back initially, letting future discoveries mislead manga readers.
At the field, the 1,600-meter track looked vast, but for students facing ten laps, it was despairingly so.
No other classes were on the field. First-years started school early, and other grades hadn’t arrived yet. Among first-years, no teacher was as ruthless as Meng Huai, making students run 16,000 meters on the first day.
Meng Huai didn’t follow, nor did he watch from the window. A girl with loose hair trudged toward the track, glancing at the vast field with a hint of retreat in her eyes, whispering: “If we run a few laps less, you think the teacher will notice?”
This needed a leader, and several classmates quickly chimed in: “I think it’s fine. The teacher’s not watching, we can just go through the motions.”
Another boy was blunter: “Honestly, what if we don’t run at all? Can he really expel us on behalf of the school?”
“Exactly! I’m just walking five laps.”
Su Bei coldly observed their talk. Undoubtedly, such antics on the first day were begging for a lesson. The yellow-haired boy’s fate clearly hadn’t taught them enough.
But this didn’t concern him. Glancing at the four students already running, including Jiang Tianming and Lan Subing, he exchanged a look with Feng Lan, and they stepped onto the track together.
Feng Lan’s long legs moved lightly, catching up to the front group in a few strides. Feeling an emptiness beside him, he glanced over and saw Su Bei, who’d been next to him, had vanished.
Looking back, he saw Su Bei plodding along at a turtle’s pace.
Confusion filled Feng Lan’s golden eyes, his head tilting as if a tangible question mark sprouted atop it: “What are you doing back there?”