Hand Of God

Chapter 91 I already learned it

“Huh?” Adam’s body twitched slightly, as if snapping out of a trance-like state.

He looked up, dazed, only to find a towering figure of muscle and scowls standing right in front of him.

Levin snapped, “So now you don’t even bother pretending to listen? Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?”

Adam lifted *Ice Tempest* from his lap, gave it a casual shake, and said, “Didn’t you just tell me to learn these two superpower skills as fast as possible?”

“I figured you meant right now.”

Levin’s eye twitched. His lips trembled, his mind spinning, but no words came out for a solid five seconds.

*Are you serious right now, kid?*

Swallowing his urge to throw another punch, Levin barked, “I meant go study them *after class*, not stand here in line reading like you’re at a damn library!”

“And have you even thought about this? How are you supposed to master a skill in this chaos, in this tiny window of time?!”

“Really?” Adam scratched his nose, genuinely puzzled. “Is there a protocol for this? Because… I already learned it.”

“You what?” Levin’s eyes bulged like he’d misheard.

“You learned it—in under a minute?”

“Yeah.” Adam shrugged like it was obvious. “Is it supposed to be hard? I was told that as long as your superpower is compatible, you just glance at it and pick it up instantly.”

Levin: …

The entire class: …

Basic superpower skills were relatively easy to grasp—but “easy” still meant hours of focused practice, especially for freshmen who’d barely touched real combat techniques.

Serena, the top student in Class One, had set the record by mastering her first basic superpower skill in just over two hours. That feat alone had fueled rumors that the so-called “Adam Training Regimen” might actually be legit.

And now Adam was claiming he’d done it in less than sixty seconds.

Levin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who the hell told you that basic skills are learned in one look?”

“My online friend—the one I play multiplayer games with. She’s a superhuman too.”

*Great. So your mystery gamer pal’s been feeding you fairy tales,* Levin thought, already regretting every life choice that led him here.

With a sigh, he flicked his wrist and pulled a solid concrete brick from his space-superpower ring.

“Prove it. Show me this *Ice Tempest* you just ‘learned.’”

Adam stared at the brick on the ground. “Can I ask… why do you carry bricks around?”

“Don’t focus on irrelevant details. Just do it.”

Adam nodded. Frost gathered at his fingertips, forming a slender ice needle that shot into the brick in a flash.

A second later, he clenched his fist—and the entire block exploded into fine dust.

“I overcharged it a bit,” he said, waving away the cloud of powder. “Still getting the hang of it.”

Levin stared at the pulverized remains, then at Adam, then back at the dust. There was no denying it anymore.

This freak truly defied logic.

After a long silence, Adam asked, “Was there… something wrong with that? Did I mess up the technique?”

“No,” Levin muttered, voice flat. “Nothing wrong at all. In fact, it was perfectly fine.”

“Fine. Stand wherever you want. Do whatever you like—as long as you don’t start stripping naked and dancing, you’re free to ignore me.”

“And for the love of Deity, don’t talk to me. My blood pressure can’t take it.”

Adam: ???

Levin turned sharply and marched back to the front of the class, trying to calm his nerves.

He wasn’t the only one needing to breathe deeply. The other students were reeling too.

*Comparison is the thief of joy—and sanity.*

One belief now burned in every heart: the “Adam Training Regimen” had to be real. And if they wanted to survive this program, they’d better start training like their lives depended on it.

For the rest of the lecture, Class One sat rigid, jaws clenched, listening with desperate intensity.

“Tomorrow,” Levin announced, “is your first minor trial.”

“Some of you might be used to real action”—he shot a glare at Adam—“but most of you haven’t faced what being a superhuman truly demands. So prepare well.”

“Reflect on everything you’ve learned at university: superpower skills, physical conditioning, combat techniques, mental resilience.”

“A field assignment isn’t just a test—it’s a comprehensive trial. You’ll need to synthesize everything under pressure.”

That was it. No extra drills. No sadistic drills. Levin dismissed class early—something unheard of.

But before leaving, he pulled Adam aside, pointed him toward the university library—“It’s packed with foundational superpower manuals”—and added one last warning: “Don’t slack off.”

Then he walked away. He couldn’t look at Adam’s face another second without risking a stroke.

***

Time passed quickly. By the next morning, all fifty students of Class One boarded a university shuttle.

Each received a secure comms unit—untraceable, anti-jamming—for coordination and emergency calls.

For everyone except Adam, this was their first group trial. Excitement and nerves crackled through the air.

Adam, slumped in the back row, looked bored out of his mind.

This mission sounded like a tutorial quest—child’s play compared to what he’d faced before.

Reports described a city district plagued by “hauntings.” Local police were helpless. The UHG had finally called in superhumans.

Initial analysis pointed to an Acolyte using a Sequence Weapon blessed by a Deity, stirring chaos in a residential zone.

The only complication? The anomaly covered nearly half the borough. Harmless for now—but too vast for a solo operator.

Hence, fifty elite freshmen were deployed to investigate.

“You’re the top class,” Levin had said. “Early exposure builds instinct.”

“Your objective: uncover the truth behind these ‘hauntings.’ Locate the Acolyte. Eliminate if possible. If outmatched, report back and secure the Sequence Weapon.”

“Your performance determines your rating.”

“Now get off the bus. Expenses go through university reimbursement.”

Silence.

No one moved.

Every student’s eyes flicked toward the back—where Adam sat, eyes half-lidded, radiating indifference.

*Why even bother with a trial?* they thought. *With him here, we might as well hand in blank reports.*

His perception alone could pinpoint the Acolyte’s hideout in minutes. One burst of ice, and the whole operation’s over.

And if he couldn’t handle it? Then they were all walking into a s*******r.

Before Levin could snap at their hesitation, Henry suddenly stood up.

From his backpack, he pulled a mini-fridge, grabbed a fruit platter, and hurried to Adam’s seat.

“Heh… big bro, boss...” he said with a nervous grin, offering the tray. “Have some fruit.”

Adam glanced up, about to speak—when Henry leaned in and whispered:

“I’ll pay you. Just… sit this trial out, okay?”