“Uh…”
Meimeike looked a little awkward.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help.
It’s just that, in her previous world, as a half-dragon, Meimeike already had a bit of prejudice against the Minotaur race.
Minotaurs were naturally sweaty and rough by nature, which repulsed someone like Meimeike, who loved cleanliness and had a sensitive personality.
It’s definitely not because Minotaurs are the mortal enemies of purity in “those kinds” of books—after all, with biological incompatibility, those kinds of magical plots couldn’t happen in reality.
Even though this Minotaur gentleman was rather polite and didn’t carry any of that weird smell, her long-held bias still made her reluctant.
Oh well.
No one ever pays attention to a timid girl like me anyway…
“You just finished the test and used a lot of energy. Would taking me over there be too tiring for you…?”
Su Xinran looked at Meimeike, noticing her hesitant expression, and asked softly.
After all, she had once been a student too.
She fully understood how frustrating it was to get randomly tasked with something by a teacher.
While navigating this massive 1,000-meter track field with just a little slip of paper would’ve been confusing for her, Su Xinran still preferred to be considerate of Meimeike.
“Uh…”
Meimeike froze slightly, then asked timidly:
“You’re… asking for my opinion?”
“Yeah, that’s right. If it’s inconvenient, please don’t feel pressured.”
“No no, it’s fine. The cafeteria isn’t open yet, and the dorms don’t have hot water at this hour either. I don’t have anything to do if I go back anyway.”
Meimeike waved her hand.
How rare… Someone actually asking how I feel…
And even rarer that it’s coming from a Minotaur…
She muttered silently in her heart.
“I haven’t even asked your name yet…”
“My name is Su— ahem, I mean, Horus. My name is Horus!”
“Alright then, Mr. Horus. Come with me, the physical test area is on the other side.”
“Thanks for your help!”
…
At the physical testing zone, thanks to Meimeike’s guidance, Su Xinran avoided many wrong turns.
After successfully scanning in her number at check-in, she arrived at the waiting area by the track.
Well, what else would you expect from monsters?
Even the weakest of them ran like Olympic sprinters—and could maintain that speed for 20 kilometers.
Watching the last runner in the previous group finish with a time of 40 minutes, Su Xinran’s heart sank a little.
Once the previous group fully cleared the track, it was Su Xinran’s group’s turn to enter.
“Good luck, big bro Horus!!”
Meimeike waved to Su Xinran from the spectator stands.
She was a bit worried about this Minotaur “big brother,” because the Minotaur race wasn’t known for agility.
Long-distance running was practically their universal weak point—they rarely scored well.
Su Xinran noticed Meimeike cheering for her.
After fumbling around inside the suit for a bit, she finally found the “smile” button on her helmet and returned a perfectly sunny grin.
The mechanical exoskeleton wasn’t built for speed.
Running normally would definitely mean a low score.
Su Xinran could’ve chosen to give up on this test and focus on other events instead—but she didn’t want to.
As the other contestants warmed up on the track, Su Xinran showed a sly smile inside her helmet.
“On your marks!”
The starter raised the signal gun.
All the contestants shifted their weight forward and raised their hips.
All except Su Xinran—who crouched down low instead.
The strange movement drew curious looks from the starter and the observers in the booth, but the starter didn’t care and pulled the trigger right on time.
Bang!
Everyone shot forward like arrows—except Su Xinran, who leapt forward like an actual arrow, rocketing ahead!
“WHOA!!”
This scene immediately drew the attention of everyone in the stands.
What kind of move was that?!
Su Xinran had turned a long-distance race… into a long jump contest!
“D-Does that count as a foul…?”
The long-distance exam proctor asked the chief examiner beside him, visibly troubled.
“You’re asking me? Who am I supposed to ask…?”
The chief was just as dumbfounded.
Thanks to the massive track with its extra-long straight lanes, Su Xinran was covering hundreds of meters per leap.
In just a couple of seconds, she had already reached the first curve!
The contestant who had been running in the lead suddenly felt a blur of shadow flash past—she was instantly overtaken by a huge margin!
Upon landing, Su Xinran used the inertia to take a few running steps, then did another jump with a running start.
If her standing jumps were already terrifying, her running leaps were even worse—like a shell fired from a cannon, she blinked forward and surpassed the leader once again!
That contestant watched as another dark blur zipped past and thought:
“I just got lapped—AGAIN?!”
“Whoa…!”
The entire arena could see what was happening on the long-distance track.
The audience gasped in shock, and more and more people came flooding in, drawn by the commotion.
The latecomers could only see a black blur flashing across the track.
Most had no clue what was even going on.
They instinctively rubbed their eyes, wondering if they were hallucinating.
This bizarre cycle repeated over and over—leap, land, run, leap again—until finally, Su Xinran’s wristband beeped, indicating the completion of her test.
Beep!
Su Xinran slammed to a stop—but still slid a long way forward from the momentum.
Because everyone was running at high speeds and the track was crowded, the organizers couldn’t use a standard red finish line, which might interfere with runners still on the track.
Instead, they used wristband sensors to count laps.
The moment Su Xinran finished, her time was uploaded to the massive scoreboard.
“15 minutes and 21 seconds?!”
The proctor cried out in disbelief.
Long-distance records are notoriously hard to break—shaving off even one second, let alone 0.1 seconds, is a huge feat.
But Su Xinran…obliterated the previous record of 20 minutes and 59 seconds—by over five minutes!
“Chief, should we consider this cheating?”
The proctor, still recovering from shock, finally turned to the equally stunned chief examiner.
“Uhhh… according to the rules, everything is judged by the wristband’s digital tracking.
Since the wristband successfully registered the time, let’s record the score for now.
Just to be safe, I’ll go consult with the Vigilance Alliance Headquarters.”
The chief mulled it over for a bit before answering.
“Let him continue with the other tests. I’ll be back before we announce the final scores and rankings.”
“Keep an eye on the time—it’s about to start. Don’t be late.”
The proctor pointed at his wristwatch as the chief left.
“Sigh… Let’s just hope nothing unexpected happens this time, like in rehearsals…”
“Um… All contestants who have completed the test, please exit the track and come to the stands to receive your results!”
Since one person had already finished, the announcement had to be broadcast early—though it was clearly directed at Su Xinran alone.
Hearing the announcement, Su Xinran looked around for a way up to the viewing platform—then saw Meimeike waving at her.
“Over here~!”
Meimeike stood at the foot of the stairs, holding up a bottle of water and gesturing for her to come up.