"This gap is a bit exaggerated..." Wei Hong said.
Feng Wenhao looked at Zhou Leng and said, "Your progress recently has been unusually fast, dodging scores over 90? At Eighth Middle School, that's Zhang Xinglie's domain."
"Maybe I got lucky."
"I believe it."
Soon, the third event, the weighted run, began.
Everyone carried an iron sandbag weighing 100 kilograms on each shoulder, a total weight of 200 kilograms.
At Deng Zhijue's command, the first ten people started running together.
Everyone watched as Zhou Leng darted ahead like a rabbit among turtles, with the other nine lagging further and further behind.
Tao Bing whispered, "Young Master Chang, if you don't make a move now, it'll be too late. Except for the obstacle run, the later events are unsuitable for making a move."
Chang Luan remained silent.
