RBCT Chapter 11 New Record
Chapter 11 New Record
The number on the display screen remained steadily at 3000.
The entire examination room number nine felt as if an invisible hand was choking it; more than three hundred people stood there, yet not a single breath could be heard.
Someone's water bottle slipped from their hand and fell to the ground, spilling water everywhere, but no one looked down to look.
Everyone maintained the same posture—craning their necks, widening their eyes, staring intently at the numbers lit up on the force gauge, their eyes filled with the same word: impossible.
The chief examiner, Zhou Zhengyang, stood rooted to the spot, his expression as if he had been struck on the back with a club.
He inspected examinations for 23 years, rising from an ordinary examiner to the chief examiner, visiting dozens of examination venues in more than a dozen cities across the province, and seeing at least hundreds of thousands of candidates.
He had seen people weighing 2000 jin (1000 catties) before; not many, but they did exist.
He had seen someone weighing 2100 jin before; that was last year's national champion, a monstrous genius who had awakened a Earth-level martial spirit.
He weighed 2130 jin (approximately 1450 catties) in the largest examination hall in the provincial capital, which caused a sensation throughout the entire examination hall.
But now his force gauge shows 3000 jin. Not 2100 jin, not 2200 jin, but a full 3000 jin.
Zhou Zhengyang subconsciously rubbed his eyes.
A martial arts master at the prefecture level rubbed his eyes in front of more than 300 candidates and more than a dozen examiners during the college entrance examination.
If this got out under normal circumstances, he would be utterly humiliated.
But he couldn't care less about that now, because the number was still lit up on the screen, unmoving.
He crouched down and began to inspect the base of the force gauge.
He ran his fingers over each of the K10 model numbers, calibration dates, and last maintenance times displayed by the military.
The shock-absorbing springs of the load-bearing plate were not deformed, the indicator lights of the rune array were flashing normally, and the seal of the data module was intact without any damage.
The instrument performed perfectly during the unified calibration last night, with an error of no more than three per thousand.
In other words, if the instrument shows 3000 jin, then the actual value is between 2991 jin and 3009 jin.
The instrument is working properly.
Before Zhou Zhengyang could voice his judgment, a roar erupted from the crowd.
"It's fake!" Zhang Hu's face turned bright red, veins bulged on his neck, and his hand pointing at the force gauge trembled violently. "It's definitely fake! The instrument must be broken!"
"He couldn't possibly be lifting 3000 jin! A month ago he was only 300 jin!" His voice was no longer speaking, but roaring and howling.
It was as if he wanted to shout out all the shock, resentment, and disbelief he had felt from morning until now.
The other candidates neither echoed nor refuted this time.
They were still reeling from the shock of that number, their minds were scattered, and their mouths were open but they didn't know what to say.
Even the examiners couldn't maintain order in the examination room anymore; they all quickly walked towards the number seven force measuring instrument.
They huddled around the instrument, bending over, inspecting everything from the base to the display screen, from the load-bearing plate to the rune array, each trying to find something wrong with it.
I can't find it.
The examiners straightened up, looked at each other, and saw the same shock in each other's eyes.
Every force gauge is working perfectly; none of them have any problems.
Zhou Zhengyang was silent for a few seconds, then pointed to another force gauge next to him: "Just to be on the safe side, we need to verify your score. Use that instrument to test you again."
Lin Fan nodded: "No problem."
To be honest, even he himself was a little surprised by the figure of 3000 jin (1,500 catties).
He knew that Dragon Form Fist was stronger than Returning Mountain Fist, after all, it was a Xuan-level martial art, an Olympiad-level fist technique, but he did not expect it to be so much stronger.
The Perfected Realm of Returning Mountain Fist achieved a strike of 2000 jin, while the Subtle Realm of Dragon Form Fist directly soared to 3000 jin, a net increase of 1000 jin.
No wonder Zhao Xiaoyue's father spent a lot of money to buy her that Dragon Form Boxing manual; this set of boxing techniques is indeed worth the price.
Unfortunately, Zhao Xiaoyue didn't master it.
He walked up to the designated force gauge.
This time he did not close his eyes, adjust his breathing, or do any preparation.
The twelve overlapping forces of the Dragon Form Fist have been etched into his muscle memory, and the Dragon Form Breathing Method has become an instinct of his body.
He simply stood in front of the load-bearing plate, clenched his right fist, and then threw a punch.
boom!
The display screen flickered, the numbers climbed rapidly, and then came to a steady stop: 3032 jin (approximately 1550 catties).
It weighs 32 jin more than before.
"I can take another test." Lin Fan withdrew his fist and walked towards the third force measuring instrument.
He didn't wait for anyone to make arrangements, because he knew the most powerful proof was to test all the instruments here, so that any possible doubts would be silenced by the numbers.
boom!
3015 pounds.
The fourth unit weighed 3033 jin (approximately 1550 catties).
The fifth unit weighed 3042 jin (approximately 1500 catties).
The sixth unit weighs 3050 jin (approximately 1525 catties).
He tested all ten force gauges in the examination room. The lowest score was 3000, and the highest was 3050.
On the display screen of each instrument, the four-digit number remained steadily lit, like a reinforced concrete monument, unshakable.
No one spoke anymore.
Zhang Hu's mouth was open, but no sound came out of his throat.
His lips moved a few times, as if he were reciting something, but the person standing next to him could not hear any syllables.
Those who had confidently claimed that "the equipment was broken" all lowered their heads now, wishing they could disappear into a crack in the ground.
Chief examiner Zhou Zhengyang looked at the row of force measuring instruments displaying numbers above 3000, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled.
3000 jin (1,500 catties) – it wasn't a broken machine, luck, or a coincidence; it was real, hard work.
All the instruments were tested, and each one gave a number of over 3000.
This result is accurate, without any cheating or luck.
He walked up to Lin Fan, his voice much more serious than before: "Lin Fan, your final score is based on your third punch, 3000 jin."
The scores from other instruments are used to verify whether the instruments are functioning properly and are not included in the college entrance examination score.
3000 jin, 50 jin less than the highest weight ever.
Lin Fan nodded, not paying any attention.
3000 jin and 3050 jin may seem like worlds apart to others, but to him they are the same.
3000 jin is enough to crush all the candidates in the country. Last year's national champion weighed just over 2,100 jin, so his 3000 jin is almost 900 jin more than the other candidate.
Getting into the top martial arts university shouldn't be a problem, and becoming the top scorer in the country shouldn't be a problem either.
He turned and left, his steps as composed as when he entered.
The exam resumed after a brief pause. But everyone knew that today's exam had taken a different turn.
Lin Fan's score was like a mountain crashing down on the playground. Every subsequent student who stood in front of the dynamometer...
His mind wasn't on how to exert force, how to adjust his breathing, or to what extent he wanted to unleash the Returning Mountain Fist.
All they could think about was that 3000-jin figure from earlier.
A boy wearing glasses stood in front of the force gauge, and his hand was shaking when he threw a punch.
His arms were trembling, his punching posture was completely distorted, and he couldn't even perform at 70% of his usual training level.
His first punch weighed 612 jin (approximately 340 catties), a full 80 jin (approximately 40 catties) less than his best training result. He gritted his teeth and threw a second punch, weighing 598 jin (approximately 249 catties). His third punch weighed 605 jin (approximately 305 catties).
He stood there staring at the screen for a long time, then silently stepped aside, took off his glasses, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
The next candidate's situation was similar.
He lost his strength halfway through the boxing routine, and the nine layers of strength dissipated after only the third layer. He was even stunned when the numbers popped up.
During school tests, I consistently achieved a high level of proficiency in the first stage of the Returning Mountain Fist, never dropping below 900 jin. But today, I only managed 760 jin.
The candidates sighed and groaned, but not one of them complained about Lin Fan.
It's not that I don't want to complain, it's that I don't know how. They earned their results through their own abilities, what right do I have to complain?
Your poor performance is due to your own lack of mental fortitude and inability to withstand pressure. What does it have to do with anyone else?
The examiners also seemed somewhat distracted.
When an examiner was recording the score, he wrote 768 instead of 786. When he crossed it out and rewrote it, the tip of his pen pierced the paper.
Another examiner misread the decimal point when announcing a number, saying "78.6 jin," which caused a moment of stunned silence before he realized his mistake and corrected himself to "786 jin."
Their gazes kept drifting toward the No. 7 force measuring instrument, which had already been "blessed" by Lin Fan, and disbelief still lingered in their eyes.
Zhou Zhengyang stood in the center of the playground, his hands behind his back, the smile on his lips impossible to suppress.
3000 jin. He had been an examiner for 3000 years and had never seen anything like it.
The highest record in the history of the National College Entrance Examination was 2300 jin (1,150 catties) created twelve years ago by a prodigy who awakened a Heaven-level Martial Soul. That record was displayed in textbooks and looked up to by countless martial arts students for twelve years.
Everyone says this record is unbreakable; 2300 jin is the limit of the Body Refinement Realm.
But now, that record has been broken, and not just slightly, but by a whopping 700 jin (350 catties).
What does 700 jin (600 catties) mean?
Last year, the combined score difference among the top 100 students in the province did not even amount to 700 jin.
More importantly, this record appeared in his exam room.
He was the chief examiner in exam room number nine, and his name was signed on the score sheet. His name would also be written in the witness column for the record-breaking achievement.
In the future, when others talk about the "highest record for college entrance examination weight of 3000 jin", they will say, "That was the year that Zhou Zhengyang was the chief examiner in examination room number nine."
The words "to be remembered in history" swirled in his mind countless times.
At 6 p.m., the last candidate threw his final punch.
All the results were recorded, sealed in a data module with rune seals, and delivered to the provincial examination authority by special escorts.
Zhou Zhengyang stood in the center of the playground and announced his final words in his deep voice as a martial artist of the Earth rank.
"Examination Room No. 9, the martial arts examination has come to a successful conclusion."
The examiners began disassembling the force gauge and loading the equipment onto the military's transport trucks.
The candidates walked out of the examination hall in twos and threes, their expressions varied.
Some people hung their heads, some had red eyes, and some clenched their fists and secretly vowed to repeat a year.
But the expressions on most people's faces were something indescribable, like relief or a daze.
Whether they did well or poorly on the exam, they will never forget this test for the rest of their lives.
On a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, they took the college entrance examination in the same examination room as a monster who weighed 3000 pounds.
The doors to the examination hall slowly opened.
The parents outside were already getting impatient.
The street was packed with people from the afternoon onwards. Some people were sitting on the curb eating boxed lunches, some were pacing back and forth counting the cracks between the bricks on the ground, and some were constantly checking the time on their phones, checking it every minute.
The moment the door opened, everyone stood up and rushed towards the door.
"Son! Over here!"
"How did the exam go? Did you perform well?"
"Daughter! Did you achieve that goal you mentioned last time?"
But to the surprise of all the parents, the first thing their children said after coming out of the exam room was not "How much did I weigh?" or "How did I do?"
It wasn't even "I want to eat something." All the test takers were saying the same thing.
"Mom! There's a monster in our exam room!"
"3000 jin! Someone chopped up 3000 jin!"
"The examiner said it broke the national record! This year's top scorer in the country is in our exam room!"
"I saw it with my own eyes; he tested all ten force gauges, and each one weighed over 3000 jin!"
The parents stood there, stunned, forgetting to hand over the water cups, snacks, and towels they were holding.
3000 jin (1500 catties)? National champion?
No, they came to pick up their own children and wanted to hear how many points their children scored. But every child who came out of the exam room went crazy talking about others.
"Wait, wait!" A parent grabbed their son's arm. "What did you say? 3000 jin? I remember last year's national champion only weighed a little over 2,000 jin, right?"
"Two thousand one hundred and three!" another student chimed in, clearly having repeated this number countless times today. "Last year's national martial arts exam champion was Chu Feng from the provincial capital, weighing 2130 jin, but he was snatched away by the Kyoto Martial Arts University."
But Dad, this guy weighed 3000 jin today! That's almost 900 jin more than Chu Feng! 900 jin!
The parent gasped.
Parents who arrived late and missed the front row were also bewildered by the discussions coming from the front.
They originally came to ask about their child's grades, but the news coming from the exam hall was more and more explosive than the last.
"A monster has appeared..."
"National top scorer? Are you sure? The martial arts exam just ended, the national results haven't even been tallied yet, how do you know he's the top scorer?"
"3000 jin isn't enough to be the top scholar? Tell me, who else can throw 3000 jin?"
"this……"
Lin Jianguo stood in the crowd, holding a bottle of mineral water in his hand, and next to him was a plastic bag containing two steamed buns he had bought for his son on the way here.
He had taken leave from the factory to come over, and he hadn't even had time to change out of his work clothes; the sleeves of his clothes still had oil stains on them.
He didn't understand martial arts training or college entrance exam records, but he could still understand the number 3000 jin.
Last year's top scorer in the national exam weighed over 2,100 jin (approximately 1,500 kg), while someone in his son's exam room weighed 3000 jin (approximately 1,500 kg), almost half again as much as last year's top scorer. What does that mean?
Isn't this the epitome of genius?
"Incredible, incredible!" Lin Jianguo exclaimed, clicking his tongue in amazement. He was just about to pull aside a nearby examinee to ask what this genius who had pounded 3000 pounds looked like and what his name was when he heard this.
Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking out of the examination hall.
Lin Fan.
Wearing a white T-shirt and black pants, he walked slowly and unhurriedly through the bustling crowd.
"Son! Over here!" Lin Jianguo quickly raised the water bottle in his hand and waved to him.
Lin Fan saw his father, smiled slightly, turned and walked through the crowd.
He looked relaxed, unlike the dejected candidates next to him, or those who cheered after receiving satisfactory scores.
He looked as if he had just come back from a walk on the playground, exuding a calmness from head to toe.
"Dad, what brings you here?"
"You have your martial arts exam today, how could I not come?" Lin Jianguo shoved the water bottle into his son's hand, then lowered his voice impatiently, his tone full of curiosity and excitement.
"Son, I just heard those test takers say that a national champion came out of your exam room? And that he weighed 3000 jin (1,500 catties)?"
Who is he? Do you know him?