Simulated Battle Room
Seeing the numbers flash on the screen, the crowd gasped.
Vanessa herself looked stunned.
"God!" she whispered.
Just yesterday, her strength had barely broken 900 kilograms. She never dreamed that in a single night it would nearly double.
"This is incredible!"
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. When she had bathed earlier, she had already suspected her power had grown significantly—her body movements had felt heavier, sharper, almost distorted—but she had not expected such an exaggerated leap.
They all knew how difficult it was to increase strength over time. By consuming the flesh of ferocious beasts, the nine of them had climbed to over 800 kilograms in a little more than a month. Yet in the following month, their progress had slowed, with only about a hundred kilograms gained. Even that had seemed like defying heaven's limits.
From under 200 kilograms to nearly a ton in just over two months—already superhuman. Even in their mercenary days, none of them had seen humans with such physiques.
And now, after this single night of cultivation, Vanessa's strength soared to one and a half tons. She could practically lift a car barehanded.
And from what Xu Mo had told them, this was only the beginning. With the [Gene Energy Cultivation Method], their growth would have no ceiling.
Xu Mo nodded approvingly.
"Test your speed," he instructed.
Vanessa stepped to the device, took a running start, and her figure blurred across the track.
"38 meters per second!"
"Not bad," Xu Mo said. For a woman of her smaller frame, speed was her advantage. She was already close to the level of an intermediate warrior.
Captain Soran quickly jotted down the result.
"Next—Harry!"
Harry charged forward, brimming with excitement.
"1650 kilograms! 34 meters per second!"
…
One by one, the rest tested their strength and speed. Most reached around 1,600 kilograms. Only Soran broke past 1,960 kilograms, a step away from becoming a true mid-level warrior. At this rate, he would advance in days.
---
Meanwhile, at the other end of the island:
"What? Appoint new instructors to conduct intensive training for the soldiers?"
"I don't agree!"
Colonel Harry stood rigid, glaring at Stark.
"I've been training these men according to special forces standards. No one else can do better!"
"Colonel," Stark replied coldly, "your duty is to follow orders. Don't make trouble, or you'll answer to me."
With that, Stark turned and left the garrison camp.
Harry's face drained of color. In recent days, Baron Stark had ordered the soldiers relocated to this island, confiscated their weapons, and now intended to assign new instructors. Everything signaled one thing—Harry was being sidelined.
But he did not dare openly defy the order. Instead, he swore to himself: when those so-called instructors arrived, he would teach them a lesson. He had once been a U.S. Special Forces instructor, and he trusted in his training and combat skill more than anyone's.
---
Inside the Star Tower.
Xu Mo stood at the door of the simulated battle room.
He entered, finding a row of capsule-like pods. Without hesitation, he lay inside one. As the hatch closed, his vision blurred—then he stood in a void.
"Please select your opponent and combat environment," an emotionless mechanical voice intoned.
A panel appeared before him. He chose a planetary first-level warrior and set the battlefield as a grassland.
"Please select your weapon."
He selected a heavy sword.
Light shifted; the starry void dissolved into rolling fields. The blue sky stretched overhead, grass bent in the wind, and the scent of greenery filled his nose.
Xu Mo plucked a blade of grass, feeling its cool touch.
"It's so real," he murmured.
Even knowing this was a simulation, the world was indistinguishable from reality.
Ahead, the form of a middle-aged man solidified. At first, the figure's eyes were dull. But the moment the battle began, life flared within them. Sword in hand, the man lunged.
Xu Mo tightened his grip and rushed to meet him.
The clash was explosive.
Xu Mo's body was hurled back like a shadow, skidding across the grassland and gouging deep furrows. He rose, shaking his numbed arm, eyes locked on his opponent.
The simulated warrior was no ordinary foe. A first-order planetary warrior, pushed to peak condition, with raw strength of 2,000 tons. Nearly double Xu Mo's own.
Normally, Xu Mo could make up for such gaps with his spiritual power, but warriors at this tier could amplify their physical output fivefold. Xu Mo's own amplitude was only threefold. Even with mental energy enhancing his blade, he still managed only half of his opponent's might.
Telekinesis had its own limits—it amplified numbers, not individual power. Xu Mo could control twelve weapons at once, each carrying 1,000 tons of force, but he could not double that on a single blade.
That was why telekinetic weapons existed—to transcend these natural caps.
Only his reflexes and his space-freezing ability had saved him from being cut down instantly. Twice the power did not mean twice as dangerous—it meant exponentially more. Against warriors like this, even facing hundreds of himself, the enemy would need only a fraction of effort to prevail.