Chapter 88 That’s not what I expected at all
1044 Words
Adam was completely lost. “What training regimen? What ‘terrifying results’? I don’t remember teaching anyone any kind of training method.”
“You really don’t know?” Levin frowned. “Could it be a rumor? But it’s been spreading like wildfire across campus.”
“They say it’s 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run—every single day.”
“And supposedly, once you master it, you can punch through the atmosphere and kill Deities with a flick of your wrist.”
The spoon Adam had been about to dip into his soup froze mid-air. He went rigid.
Oh no.
He suddenly remembered—right before the PR mission, Serena had come to him asking for training advice. He’d jokingly thrown out that ridiculous routine as a throwaway line.
And now… it was going viral?
“This basic routine—how did it even catch on? Does anyone actually believe it?” Adam asked, trying to sound casual as he took a slow sip of congee.
“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Levin said between huge bites of food. “But then things got weird.”
“The day you left, it started circulating in our class. Nobody took it seriously—except one girl. She’s been doing it religiously.”
“Then people noticed her progress in superpower skill acquisition was *way* faster than average. That’s when rumors started: Maybe the regimen actually works?”
“From our class, it exploded across the entire freshman cohort. Now it’s spreading to upper years.”
Adam: …
*That’s… not what I expected at all.*
“You haven’t noticed?” Levin wiped his mouth. “Come on, finish eating. I’ll show you.”
He watched Adam eat with growing impatience, then finally grabbed him by the arm and hauled him toward the public training grounds.
When they arrived, Adam was genuinely stunned.
He’d never seen anything like it.
The entire field was packed. Students sprinted laps around the track. Others hammered out push-ups, squats, and sit-ups in open zones. There wasn’t a single person just lounging or chatting—everyone was grinding, sweating, pushing themselves to the limit.
Levin surveyed the scene and nodded grimly. “Huh. It’s gotten even worse today.”
At first, only Serena trained this way—and no one cared. But once people saw *her*—a top-tier freshman—doing it, and knew *Adam*, the strongest newcomer, had “endorsed” it… doubt turned to anxiety.
*What if it actually works?*
Fear of falling behind dragged the whole class in. Then other classes saw Class One’s intensity and panicked: *If they’re working this hard, we’re doomed if we don’t keep up!*
Now, no one even questioned whether the routine had merit. They just… did it. Blindly. Compulsively.
Even upperclassmen had started joining in.
Adam listened, utterly speechless.
*This is textbook social escalation.*
A useless routine becomes mandatory because everyone else is doing it. If you don’t join, you feel left behind. But if everyone joins—and no one sees results—no one dares stop, just in case it *might* work.
“If I told you I made that up as a joke… would you believe me?” Adam said weakly.
Levin’s eye twitched. “Knowing you? Yeah. That tracks.”
Adam: …
“But honestly?” Levin suddenly grinned—a rare, almost warm expression, though his scarred face still made it look like a threat. “It’s not a bad thing.”
“Deities are a mountain hanging over every superhuman’s head. But humanity’s gotten soft. Complacent.”
“We’ve forgotten what it feels like to bleed for survival. Like safety is guaranteed.”
“But this? This shows they want to get stronger.”
“This training *will* help them—maybe not in the way they think, but every rep builds discipline, endurance, willpower. That’s never wasted.”
“So don’t bother debunking it. Let them believe.”
For the first time, Adam saw something in Levin’s eyes he’d never expected: genuine pride.
Then the giant clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. At 1.8 meters, Adam was tall—but next to Levin’s 2.2-meter frame, he felt like a teenager.
“You’ve got real influence, kid. One offhand comment, and the whole campus starts sweating.”
“If it were me? I’d need a whip and a megaphone just to get these brats to do ten push-ups.”
Adam smirked. “Well then… does the university plan to pay me royalties or something?”
Levin froze.
All the heartfelt sentiment evaporated. His eye started twitching again.
He’d been trying to have a real moment with this kid—and now he just wanted to strangle him.
Veins bulged in his neck as his grip tightened on Adam’s shoulder. “Say that again,” he growled, voice dripping with menace.
Adam: …
“If you don’t wanna pay, fine. No need to get violent. What kind of teacher attacks a student?”
“Hmph,” Levin snorted. “Attack you? At this point, I doubt anyone on campus *could* bully you.”
He gave up. Two minutes of conversation, and Adam had already given him a headache.
With an exasperated sigh, he pulled two faintly glowing blue books from his **space-superpower bracelet**.
“Here. While you were gone, most of the class started learning superpower skills.”
“These are for you. *Ice Tempest* and *Formweaving*. I picked them myself—they suit your affinity. Learn them. Fast.”
“You’re Level-5 already—how the hell do you not know a single proper superpower skill?”
He tossed the books at Adam and turned to leave.
Despite his earlier claim that he wouldn’t help Adam catch up, he’d clearly gone out of his way to find the perfect materials.
*Tough love* didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Uh… Professor?” Adam called after him, flipping through the books.
Levin didn’t turn. “Less talking. More training.”
Adam watched him stomp off.
…He’d just wanted to ask how to *open* these things. They felt like solid slabs of wood—no pages, no spine, just smooth, glowing surfaces.
But of course, Levin was already gone.
- Writer
