Bang!
The sound resonated, a sharp crack, but it wasn't as earth-shattering as the bald man's own demonstration.
But it was clear that she had exerted significantly more effort than he had in his seemingly effortless flick of a finger.
The strike landed dead center with controlled, precise force. Her wrist remained perfectly aligned with her forearm, no slack, no unnecessary tension, ensuring maximum impact.
Immediately, she retracted her fist with fluid motion and returned to her original, ready stance. The technique wasn't flashy or acrobatic, it was a textbook jab, executed with a discipline that spoke volumes.
It was a technique that focused on proper foot placement, a quick, powerful hip twist, a tight guard, and, most importantly, controlled breathing. This refined technique was designed to deliver a strong, precise strike from the user to the intended target.
After she had completed her powerful strike, she
stood tall and looked up, watching the numbers climb rapidly on the screen. They started slowly, then accelerated quickly, before finally slowing down and settling on the ultimate score.
"What the…!" a student exclaimed from the crowd, his voice laced with utter disbelief. The number that had appeared on the dark screen was quite a shock to everyone present.
Even the stoic bald man seemed genuinely impressed, a flicker of surprise in his normally impassive eyes.
"Her hit has even more hit points than the teacher's own!" another student muttered from the side, a mix of awe and envy in his tone.
Even though what the bald-headed man had done was merely a demonstration with the flick of his fingers, it was still considered a high show of power.
So, for someone to not only match but even surpass his casual display meant that the person must possess a truly decent level of innate strength.
These were the collective thoughts racing through the minds of the students, their estimations of power being redefined before their very eyes.
'It seems like I did improve after all,' she thought, smiling inwardly, a wave of profound satisfaction washing over her. She too was incredibly proud of her accomplishment.
Who wouldn't be, after so much rigorous training, countless restless days and nights, all in meticulous preparation for this crucial assessment? Anyone would be overjoyed seeing their arduous efforts pay off so remarkably well.
Seeing the impressive number on the screen, the bald man spoke, his voice tinged with genuine admiration.
"I knew from your stance that it was going to be a hard blow, but I never expected this," the bald man said, his gaze fixed on Sarah, looking quite impressed.
On the screen, the number eighty glowed with all its majesty, a testament to her raw power. "Your master, whoever he is, did teach you well," he commented, a hint of respect in his tone. "With such a result, I'm certain you know your position already.
There is no reason to fail such a talented young one," he continued, his voice rising in declaration.
"PASSED!" he screamed, the single word echoing through the hall, solidifying her success.
After that, a military personnel came forward and, with a curt gesture, escorted her towards the back, to the small opening that served as an entrance to the other side of the massive earth walls constructed by the military personnel using their mutant abilities.
With that, the first person's performance was over, and it was a truly wonderful performance at that, perhaps a good sign for the rest of the students, a signal that they too could make it, or at least that was their hopeful thought.
Immediately after Sarah's impressive performance, names were called one after another in rapid succession. Some were able to make it, their hit points slightly above the crucial thirty mark, while others weren't, their hit points agonizingly close, sometimes even twenty-nine.
One person even managed to reach exactly thirty but was disqualified, strictly according to the rule.
Another name was called. Coming forward, it was a young teenager with dirty brown hair, his movements hesitant.
Fai knew instinctively who it was. 'He was with us earlier; he even consumed the Earth Mutant pill, so now he's a mutant, but still a new one. Maybe I should use him to test my own strength.'
Fai thought, his mind already calculating.
Until now, Fai had not been able to accurately measure his strength, as the people who had gone forward were either too strong, making their performance too good , or too weak, providing no helpful gauge in his specific situation.
When Fai saw the boy, he was certain he could use his performance to measure his own strength, observing how a freshly mutated human would perform could surely help him guage his own strength.. Right?
'Man things are complicated since I'm not to think as a human anymore '
The young teenager, when called, moved forward with a nervous yet determined stride, like everyone before him.
He was standing in front of the formidable punching bag machine, his eyes fixed on the target.
'I don't know why,'
he thought, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him, 'but since I consumed that pill, I feel stronger, I feel more energized.
I can feel it: the energy all over my body, pulsating, alive! With this newfound power, I'm sure of it, I won't lose.'
The boy thought, a newfound confidence swelling within him as he took a firm stance.
He kept his left foot behind him and his right one slightly in front, his gaze locked straight ahead, his target: the dark, round spot on the machine.
With a sudden burst of energy, he then bounced off the ground, the internal energy within his body acting as an immediate, powerful assist.
He was fast, swift, and utterly focused, his hand moving straight ahead, followed by the concentrated power from his shoulders and the full weight of his body, all aiming for that precise spot, the dark, round target.
And like that, his hand had connected with the spot.
All the gathered energy he had within him was explosively released, and with that, a loud bang was heard.
It was loud, as thunderous as Sarah's and the teacher's, the sound reverberating through the hall. Even the teenager responsible for the hit could feel the immense power that had just left his body.
'I'm sure of it, I've done it!' he thought to himself, a triumphant smile beginning to form as he looked up at the screen, only to be utterly surprised, and then dismayed, at what he saw.
Not only him, though, even the kids from the crowd couldn't believe what they were seeing, a collective gasp echoing through the assembly.
"I'm sure of it, his hit was heavier than most of the others, right?" a student asked, confusion etched on his face. "Yes, you're right," another replied, equally perplexed.
"If so, then why is the machine showing that sign? Has it gone bad just because of how hard his hit was?" The students were undeniably confused. Of course, using logical analysis, a louder bang sound typically mean a stronger hit.
Yet, for some reason, it just felt like this fundamental principle didn't apply in this bewildering situation.
On the black screen, where the numbers would usually be displayed, a large, ominous red "ERROR" message could be seen, stark against the dark background.