Waking from a deep sleep, Lei Zhengyang found the room shrouded in dim light, silent as a grave. Instructor Two, who'd been checking his vitals, was nowhere to be seen.
Click. A lamp flickered on, and there he was—the old man in the wheelchair, his piercing gaze fixed on Lei. This time, Lei didn't react with childish bravado. Instead, he studied the man like a priceless painting, searching for the secrets hidden within its strokes.
The wheelchair glided to his bedside. As Lei moved to sit up, the old man waved him down. "Stay put. Your medical report shows severe energy depletion. You need proper rest. I'm making an exception—one full day to recover."
Compared to their first meeting, the old man seemed calmer, almost gentle.
"Wondering why I'm not whipping you this time?" he said with a faint smile. "I am you. We're one and the same. Punishing you is punishing myself. But these past six months, you haven't let me down."
Lei, still bitter from the relentless torment, snapped, "Even if you're trying to rewrite your fate, do you have to treat me like a damn animal? You say we're one—if you know that, why not just hand me some cutting-edge tech to take back? I could rule the world and avoid ending up like you, a miserable wreck!"
The old man chuckled softly, his tone indulgent yet firm. "Clever idea, but naive. I spent decades and a fortune building this time machine, and it only works twice. Plus, it's limited to a single temporal plane—not the game-like time-travel you're imagining. Taking modern tech back forty years? That's not a blessing—it's a curse. If it triggers a temporal reversal, both planes could collide and annihilate each other. No one dares risk that mistake, not even me."
Lei, clueless about the science, couldn't argue. Instead, he demanded, "How much longer are you gonna torture me? I nearly died this time. If I go down, don't you vanish too?"
The old man nodded gravely. "If you fail to change my fate, my life remains a tragedy. Death would be a mercy. But I'm lucky—you're still kicking, and so am I."
"Enough pointless talk," he continued. "I believe in you because I've always believed in myself. I'm here today to offer you a new power."
"New power?" Lei scoffed. "Aren't these trainings brutal enough? You trying to kill me for real? Look, if you're done with life, go hang yourself, swallow a bullet, or slit your wrists—whatever. But I'm still trying to live!"
The old man ignored his protests. "Technological progress has driven society forward. A decade ago, scientists developed the Superbrain, analyzing every form of power. They found that human potential is tied to the brain's untapped regions—the forbidden zones of legend. In this era, soldiers who unlock this are called Super Soldiers. In the East, this Superbrain power is known as the Flying Dragon, or Golden Dragon for short. I'm giving you the chance to inherit the Golden Dragon's power."
He pressed a button on his wrist device, and a holographic 3D image materialized. A soldier, wreathed in a menacing purple aura, stood before them. With a flick of his arms, the ground quaked, and a five-meter slab of earth was ripped from the soil. Purple light coalesced in his fist, shattering the slab with a single punch. He moved like the wind, gliding over waves, his presence more devastating than a Category 12 typhoon. Bamboo groves were sliced by invisible blades, stone cliffs crumbled under his blows. He was a reincarnation of the ancient Warlord of Chu, a thousand years reborn.
The hologram faded, and the old man spoke. "That's a Level 8 Golden Dragon master. But it's not the peak. The ultimate is Level 10, though even I don't know its true strength. Rumor has it the West birthed a Level 9 War Emperor, capable of crushing five Level 8 Golden Dragon masters single-handedly."
His tone grew flat, tinged with disappointment, as if the East's warriors had let him down.
"By accepting the Golden Dragon's power, you'll start training thirty years early. Maybe you'll surpass the Level 9 War Emperor and reach the Level 10 War God."
Lei stared at him, then snorted. "You've got the wrong guy. I barely survived those trainings by dumb luck. Don't pin your hopes on me. I'm just a spoiled rich kid, a playboy who loves chasing women and racing cars. Becoming a War God? Find someone else, or don't blame me when I ruin your grand plan."
The old man didn't look at him, his voice cold. "Talking to you is a waste of breath. Get back to training."
He was clearly pissed.
Lei didn't care. Dragged forty years into the future and forced to claw through life-and-death trials like a beast, he had no patience for the old man's mood. All he wanted was to survive, escape this hell, and return to his carefree life.
The day's rest worked wonders, restoring his strength. Instructor Two had treated his wounds again, using some futuristic miracle drug. The healing was uncanny—his injuries itched, then vanished. When he checked, the scars were gone.
He'd meant to thank her, especially for the bracelet that saved his life, but the half-man, half-woman freak had gone too far. On his arm, where the wound had been, she'd tattooed a military dagger. No wonder it stung like hell.
"Pretty cool, huh?" she teased.
Lei rolled his eyes. "What's cool about it? You're not even a woman—why so damn extra?"
Her lips pursed, irritation flaring. "I do what I want! Disobey me, and I'll whip you senseless."
Lei was speechless. She looked like a goddess but wasn't a woman. What kind of cosmic punishment is this? If she were real, he'd have already swept her into his arms, consequences be damned. His courage in love—or lust—had always been boundless.
"Forget it," he muttered. "I'm a real man, big-hearted, so I'll let you off. Here, take your bracelet back. It saved my life—thanks."
Her face lit up with surprise. "Really? It's that powerful? Keep it as a lucky charm for now. You're up for a submarine assault next, facing elite navy forces. I hope it saves you again. 001, don't let me down!"
Her sincerity was disarming, a shift from their usual banter to something deeper, almost like camaraderie. But the closer they got, the more uneasy Lei felt. Friends with a freak? If word got out, the Lei family's third son would be a laughingstock.
Still, as she slipped the bracelet back onto his wrist, he couldn't find a reason to refuse. Pushing it back would mean physical contact, and that thought alone sent shivers down his spine.
The submarine assault was his second escalated training. Instructor Two had mentioned it would take place entirely at sea, the swimming drills from earlier now making sense. Swimming was no issue, but Lei couldn't wrap his head around the insanity of the task: one man in a tiny motorboat, sent to hijack a submarine. He was given a few coordinates—points where the sub would surface for air. Those were his windows.
The process didn't matter, only the result: seize the submarine and pilot it to a designated location.
If he pulled it off, Lei was certain he'd be the first man in history to take down a submarine with a motorboat.