Chapter 129: 10.15 Seconds

In truth, for the thousands of ordinary spectators at the Galaxy Gymnasium, the significance of a 10.15-second finish was lost on them. They simply saw the athlete from Guangdong Province, the one they were most familiar with and felt obliged to support, cross the finish line in a commanding lead. Behind him, there was a noticeable gap before the other seven competitors arrived in what looked like a continuous, undulating wave.

Anyone could see it was an overwhelming victory. The other athletes were not weak, but Lu Suo’s 10.15 was simply too strong. Their cheers were for this crushing win, for the powerhouse on the track. At this moment, the Guangzhou Galaxy Gymnasium was cheering for Lu Suo.

...

The 100-meter semi-final was being broadcast live on the Guangdong Sports Channel. The earlier qualifying heats had only received limited coverage, but since the athletes' performances were so outstanding, the semi-final was upgraded to a live broadcast.

A host and a special guest were providing commentary on the race.

"Oh, oh... he’s across the line! Lane 4, Lu Suo, has crossed the finish line with an absolute lead! Let’s see his time. Before it comes up, would you care to estimate what it might be?"

The local expert from Guangdong was quite excited. "It’s likely to be a truly astonishing time!"

"Why is that?" the host asked, stating the obvious.

"Like many viewers, I have been following Lu Suo’s progress. In domestic track and field, he has emerged as a dark horse. I can list the times from the few public 100-meter races he’s run—currently only two. The first was his 10.49 at the Guangdong Provincial Games, and the second was his 10.28 in yesterday’s National Games qualifying heat," the expert explained.

"A massive improvement," the host interjected.

"Exactly. And Lu Suo has been in professional training for less than six months. He is an incredibly, incredibly gifted athlete... Alright, the time is up... 10.15!" The expert’s voice rose.

"A staggering time! 10.15!" the host echoed. "What does this mean?"

"It means Lu Suo is now one of the two fastest 100-meter sprinters in the country!" The expert paused to steady his emotions. "It is also a world-class performance, even by Asian standards. It’s truly shocking; I never expected such an incredible result during the semi-final stage of these National Games!"

"One of the two fastest—who is the other?" the host asked.

"Pan Kai," the expert replied.

"Oh, the 'Superman in Glasses,'" the host noted, recognizing the name.

"There is currently some controversy online between Lu Suo and Pan Kai," the expert noted, clearly an internet user himself. "Everyone is debating who is truly the best in the domestic 100-meter field, so the showdown between Pan Kai and Lu Suo in the final is highly anticipated..."

...

"You ran too fast..." Lu Jinrong said, handing Lu Suo a towel and leaning in to support him. But Lu Suo showed no signs of the exhaustion that usually follows such an all-out effort. Lu Jinrong sensed it immediately.

Lu Suo chuckled, saying nothing. Lu Jinrong nodded, feeling reassured. It was clear that Lu Suo hadn't even pushed himself to the limit yet.

...

Pan Kai was in the second heat of the semi-finals. He looked up at the electronic scoreboard, his expression betraying a hint of shock. 10.15. He wasn't the only one capable of running that fast. This Lu Suo... had achieved such a time so easily. No wonder that man had suggested he withdraw from the race.

"Don't be nervous," Pan Kai’s coach from the Capital team said, noticing him staring blankly at Lu Suo’s result. "Run your own race. Don't let it affect you."

Pan Kai nodded, though his gaze drifted in a particular direction. Sure enough, Li Yan, dressed in a sharp suit, was standing there. Li Yan seemed to represent a choice. If Pan Kai withdrew, he would remain the number one. His brand endorsement with A·F would be safe, and he could continue to enjoy the fame, honor, and income that came with being the top sprinter.

But one could run for a moment, not for a lifetime. Pan Kai understood this well. He shook his head at Li Yan.

...

"I understand," Li Yan said, turning away and walking out through the athlete’s tunnel. Dong Zijian followed behind him, still feeling it was all too surreal.

"10.15," Dong Zijian said, needing to vent his shock. "How is that possible? His 10.28 in the qualifiers was already stunning enough, but 10.15 in the semis? And besides... why would he run a 10.15? Shouldn't he save his full strength for the finals?"

"What if he still hasn't used his full strength?" Li Yan suggested. "He clearly had more in the tank."

Dong Zijian recalled Lu Suo’s state at the end of the race—tired, but not exhausted. As Lu Suo’s coach during the East Asian Youth Games, he knew Lu Suo’s habits and condition well; that was not the look of someone who had given everything.

"How can there be such improvement..." Dong Zijian repeated like a broken robot.

Indeed, it was truly shocking. 10.15.

"I will suggest that the event organizers test Lu Suo's urine several more times," Li Yan said, though he shook his head almost immediately. "But it’s unlikely to yield anything. We simply have to acknowledge the existence of such a miracle."

"Do you think Lu Suo is using a performance-enhancing drug that can't be detected?" Dong Zijian’s voice dropped to a whisper. Doping was a taboo word among domestic athletes; the scandal from a decade ago that decimated the track and field circle still hung over everyone like a dark cloud.

"Based on what I know of Lu Suo’s social circle, he couldn't get his hands on that kind of high-end stuff," Li Yan said, then smiled as if remembering something. "Coach Dong, do you know what attracted me most when I received the invitation from the national team?"

"What was it?" Dong Zijian asked.

"It was your country’s track and field atmosphere. What a pure circle this is! Compared to some other countries, it is almost touchingly clean." At that moment, Li Yan smiled like a devil.

In the pleasant 20-degree warmth of Guangzhou, Dong Zijian felt a sudden chill.

...

In the second heat of the 100-meter semi-finals, Pan Kai finished in 10.18 seconds. He also took first place. Although it was 0.03 seconds slower than Lu Suo, it was a negligible difference. The host on the live broadcast saw the time and shouted, "I can already see the smoke of battle! I am truly looking forward to tomorrow’s final!"

...

10.15. 10.15.

When Lu Xiaoyu learned the news, a cold light flashed in her eyes. As expected, her brother was worth every fried dough stick and egg he had eaten. Now, this time would be the Dragon-Slaying Saber and Heaven-Reliant Sword in her hands, helping her slaughter all opposition online.

*Come on,* she thought. *Let me see who is worthy of a fight!*

Lu Xiaoyu had specifically asked for an afternoon off. She ran home, tossed her schoolbag aside, and began to clatter away at her keyboard.

*Let’s fight at my pace! You internet scum!*