Chapter Ninety-Five: The Escape Route

December 2nd.

After Rousseau returned from the capital to Peng City, he plunged straight into intense training.

This time, the competition only yielded a single attribute point. Rousseau didn’t assign it to either “Strength” or “Agility”; he wanted to maintain balance between the two, not only because this was the optimal physical trait for his “Acceleration” skill, but also due to his obsessive need for symmetry.

Since his constitution couldn’t be improved, Rousseau shifted his training focus to technique. He quickly grasped the purpose of his newly acquired skills: “Gathering Momentum” and “Balance.”

“Gathering Momentum” boosted strength, reaction, and focus—especially useful in the starting phase. By combining it with the “Glass Crown,” Rousseau could push his starting speed to about 0.13 seconds, a world-class level.

Additionally, Rousseau discovered that this skill was quite effective in discus and javelin throws. By extension, it might also be valuable in billiards, baseball, and similar sports.

As for “Balance,” it was just as Rousseau expected—a skill for curve running. If Rousseau’s personal mastery of curve technique rated an 80, the “Balance” provided by his status bar was a perfect 100.

This intrigued him…

Rousseau started pondering a question: were the so-called “skills” in his status bar actually sprint techniques he could master through years of practice? But with the status bar’s aid, why bother training? Was a score of 100 simply not enough?

Perhaps that was the case. One hundred might suffice to become a champion, but it wouldn’t usher him into the divine realm of sprinting.

Regardless, with “Gathering Momentum” and “Balance,” Rousseau’s 200-meter technique made another leap forward.

On December 4th, after activating all his abilities, Rousseau ran the 200 meters in a staggering 20.42 seconds. If he’d achieved this at the Eastern Youth Games, Fujimitsu Masafumi wouldn’t even have caught a whiff of Rousseau’s exhaust.

For the 100 meters, Rousseau officially clocked 10.30 seconds—a time matching the current national record held by Pan Kai.

Lu Jinrong was stunned. Only a month had passed since the Eastern Youth Games, just thirty days, and Rousseau’s performance had soared again. If things continued at this rate, Rousseau’s bold claim—that he would break the 10-second barrier in the 100 meters in 2005—might actually come true.

So Lu Jinrong took Rousseau’s report straight to Director Chen Peng at the Peng City Sports Committee.

Chen Peng was in high spirits—thanks to Rousseau. At the recent indoor track invitational, Rousseau had taken first in the 200 meters and second in the 60 meters, losing the latter by just 0.02 seconds to the national record holder Zhang Zhen. These results were impressive.

It meant Peng City’s traditionally weak sprinting events had made notable progress during Chen Peng’s tenure. The boost to his political achievements was one thing, but Chen Peng genuinely loved sports—especially sprinting. Every time he saw those newspaper reports, he felt a surge of pride.

Thus, Chen Peng warmly welcomed Lu Jinrong’s visit.

But when he saw Rousseau’s latest report, Chen Peng was momentarily incredulous.

“Twenty point forty-two seconds for the 200 meters… If I recall, Rousseau’s time at the Eastern Youth Games was 20.58 seconds, and that wasn’t officially recognized due to wind speed,” Chen Peng remarked.

Lu Jinrong nodded.

“For the 100 meters, Rousseau’s last official result was at the provincial games two months ago: 10.49 seconds,” Chen Peng recalled—since 10.50 was the record he himself held.

Again, Lu Jinrong nodded.

“So, is this real?” Chen Peng asked, astonished.

“It’s absolutely genuine. I measured it myself—twice,” Lu Jinrong confirmed.

Hearing this, Chen Peng sprang to his feet, nearly knocking over the large tea mug on the desk. Lu Jinrong hurried to steady it, while Chen Peng began pacing the room. After several laps, he finally stopped.

“So Rousseau is now the top domestic sprinter in both the 100 and 200 meters!” Chen Peng exclaimed.

“The 200 meters, certainly. As for the 100 meters, Pan Kai’s best is also 10.30, but Rousseau says he’ll keep improving—he’s aiming for 10.20, and even 10.10 at the National Games,” Lu Jinrong explained.

Lu Jinrong himself had doubted Rousseau’s claims, but seeing his rapid progress, he couldn’t help but believe—at least, there was hope.

“That means our province has produced a sprinting genius!” Chen Peng rubbed his hands in excitement. “If Rousseau wins both the 100 and 200 meters at the National Games, I’ll apply for a bonus for him—a special talent package.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” Lu Jinrong said. “Considering Rousseau’s achievements, the Golden League plan I mentioned before—we can try it now. Also, if when the Asian Games come around, Rousseau doesn’t change his mind and Li Yan is still in charge of the national team, we’ll need to figure out how to get Rousseau to the Asian Games.”

“The Golden League—no problem. As long as Rousseau qualifies, the city will allocate funds to support his participation, full backing without conditions,” Chen Peng promised.

The venues for the World Athletics Golden League are spread across the globe, and Rousseau himself couldn’t possibly cover the expenses. Visas were another issue. Normally, the national bureau handled such logistics, but in Rousseau’s case, there was no point relying on them.

Rousseau’s plan to fight for his own rewards was admirable, but what if he failed to win at any event and didn’t secure prize money?

As Rousseau’s coach, Lu Jinrong had to prepare backup options for him, just in case.

Fortunately, Peng City’s Sports Committee had the resources.

This also connected to another issue: Peng City had long planned to apply for hosting rights to a top-tier IAAF event, such as the World Athletics Golden Grand Prix—Peng City station—but was still waiting in line.

If Rousseau could achieve results, or even win in the Golden Grand Prix, he’d draw the IAAF’s attention, greatly strengthening Peng City’s application.

Thus, Chen Peng could make the call to support Rousseau’s participation, provided Rousseau really made it.

“As for getting Rousseau to the Asian Games… It’s difficult, but not impossible. There’s precedent with Liu Yu—if Rousseau delivers the results, we can push for direct management by the Athletics Center, assign a coaching team. But when that day comes, Li Yan will likely have to step down,” Chen Peng said.

Li Yan, an accomplished coach but without domestic foundations, could be replaced—but those leaders who signed the head coach contract behind him would have to bear responsibility. So, it’s not impossible, but it’s risky and faces resistance.

“But if Rousseau really breaks the 10-second barrier in 2005, becoming the first Asian to do so, no one will be able to stop him! Whoever denies him entry to the Asian Games will become a national disgrace!” Chen Peng declared, waving his hand with fervor.

Lu Jinrong was swept up by Chen Peng’s passion, feeling a surge of emotion.

Indeed.

If Rousseau really broke the 10-second barrier,

He would make history.

And as the coach behind Rousseau, he would witness that history.