My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 5: Strength test

The bus halted with a soft hiss as the brakes engaged gently.

Ethan peered through the window, his gaze fixed on the massive edifice before them. The Martial Alliance Branch Hall stood as a formidable landmark, constructed from dark metal and reinforced stone. Ancient martial emblems were etched into its exterior, each one a testament to long-standing legacies of power. A grand archway served as the entrance, where a tall figure stood in wait.

As the students exited the bus, their lively conversations died down upon seeing the man. He possessed a broad-shouldered, towering frame and a posture as straight as a sword. His presence exuded a quiet, unshakable confidence—the unmistakable mark of a combat veteran.

Arnold stepped forward, maintaining his characteristic composure. "Students, I would like to introduce Richard Hervey," he announced. "He is a senior executive officer of this Martial Alliance branch and a Martial Master. He will be supervising your examinations today."

Ethan’s eyebrow twitched upward.

A Martial Master? Having one here was impressive, but it was Richard’s demeanor that truly piqued Ethan's curiosity.

When Richard addressed Arnold, his tone changed slightly and his stance became even more rigid. A faint look of deference appeared in his eyes—a genuine respect that seemed out of place. It appeared as though he was addressing a superior of much higher rank.

Why is he showing such respect to Arnold? Ethan pondered. Arnold doesn't radiate the Qi of anyone beyond a Martial Warrior... unless he has been concealing his true Cultivation this entire time.

Pushing the thought aside for the moment, Ethan followed the group into the building.

The interior hall was expansive and solemn, illuminated by recessed white lights reflecting off the polished dark flooring. High on the walls hung decorative banners of the Martial Alliance, their symbols representing unity, strength, and heritage. The perimeter was lined with training chambers and testing rooms featuring glass partitions for observation. A faint scent of iron and disinfectant lingered in the air—the signature aroma of a place dedicated to discipline and combat.

They were ushered into a spacious side room where ten heavy-duty machines were lined up—metallic pillars equipped with thick striking pads and digital monitors.

"This," Richard said, indicating the equipment, "is the first stage: the strength assessment. You will be tested in groups of ten. Your goal is to strike the machine with a single punch. If your impact force surpasses the required limit, you will advance to the speed test."

A ripple of whispers went through the crowd. The standard was common knowledge—500 kilograms of force. This was the baseline for any student hoping to gain admission into a top-tier martial academy.

The first ten students—six boys and four girls—stepped up. Each took a position in front of a punching machine. Some rotated their shoulders while others loosened their wrists as the tension in the room rose.

"Begin," Richard commanded.

The students prepared their fists. They adjusted their stances and drew deep breaths before striking simultaneously.

BAM!

The sound of ten impacts thundered through the room like a synchronized volley. The machines whirred as the digital readouts climbed rapidly.

Machine 1: 400 kg Machine 2: 600 kg Machine 3: 500 kg ... ... Machine 10: 533 kg

Once the numbers stabilized, Richard gave a curt nod. "Six have passed."

The four who failed appeared crushed. Their gazes fell to the floor, and one girl's hands trembled with frustration. Years of dedicated training had culminated in this single moment, and they had fallen short.

Arnold stepped in, his voice projecting a firm kindness. "Do not lose heart," he said. "Missing the top academies is not the end of your path. There are second-tier universities and other avenues—you could join the military or pursue the life of a free warrior. Your journey continues. Often, those who trip at the start end up climbing the highest."

His words carried weight, echoing the wisdom of someone who had witnessed many successes and failures.

The failed students looked up, their despair replaced by a flickering resolve. Meanwhile, the six who succeeded were beaming, some exchanging celebratory high-fives.

The next groups were summoned. In the second round, five more passed.

Then came the third group—the one containing Mark Silva.

The room grew quiet.

Mark approached his machine with an arrogant stride, his chin tilted high. He showed no sign of nerves, only pure ego. He took his time adjusting his gloves, ensuring he had the audience's full attention.

With a sharp exhale, he assumed a perfect martial stance and unleashed a punch.

The monitor beeped as the digits surged upward.

100... 300... 600... 750 kg.

The room erupted in gasps.

"750!" someone muttered in awe.

"Unbelievable..." whispered another.

"The Silva family is truly elite. Following Old Master Eric, another genius has appeared."

Mark stood there with a smirk, soaking in the admiration. He turned his head slightly, searching for one specific person.

Ethan.

However, Ethan’s face remained a mask of calm. There was no jealousy or shock—just an unreadable, quiet stillness.

This infuriated Mark to his core.

"Hmph," he growled, tightening his fists. "Just you wait, trash. When you fail this, you'll regret ever crossing me."

The next group was called, including Rose and Ryan.

Ryan looked nervous as he stepped up to Machine 2, glancing around anxiously. Rose, conversely, was the picture of serenity. She walked to Machine 7 with practiced ease.

"Begin."

BAM!

Ryan’s display showed 433 kg—a solid attempt, but not enough to pass. His expression darkened.

Then, all eyes shifted to Rose’s monitor.

The numbers climbed at a dizzying pace—500... 700... and finally stopped at 800 kg.

A stunned silence filled the room.

Even Richard looked surprised. Arnold let out a soft chuckle, nodding in approval.

"800 kg... and she hasn't even undergone awakening yet," Richard remarked quietly. "That is a rare sight, even in the super cities."

While the other students whispered in shock, Rose simply walked back to the group without a hint of pride.

Ryan looked crushed, but Ethan gave him a gentle nudge with his shoulder.

"Don't sweat it," Ethan said with a grin. "When I become a Heavenly King, I'll appoint you as one of my generals."

Ryan blinked in surprise before laughing. "As you wish, my king."

The tension eased as the two shared a lighthearted moment.

Then, it was Ethan’s turn.

He approached the machine silently, his mind racing. His actual strength was over 6,000 kg—but the theoretical peak for a human before gene-unlocking was only 1,000 kg.

Should I hold back? Maybe hit 900 kg to stay under the radar? Then, a different thought took hold. No... why hide? In a few months, I will surpass even the greatest warriors. Let them see.

He raised his fist without adopting a stance. He used no special form and no visible preparation.

The students began to murmur again.

"What is he doing?"

"Does he really think he can hit 500 kg with zero form?"

"He's about to make a fool of himself."

Mark smirked, trembling with the anticipation of Ethan's failure.

And then—

Ethan threw the punch.

BOOOOM!

The impact sounded like a cannon firing. The machine shook violently as the display flashed frantically.

The numbers sky-rocketed—300, 500, 700, 900...

1000 kg.

The room went dead silent.

Nobody moved. Not a soul spoke.

Ryan’s mouth hung open. Rose’s usually calm eyes were wide with shock.

Mark’s smirk had vanished, replaced by a face twisted in rage and disbelief. He ground his teeth so loudly that people nearby noticed, though no one felt sorry for him.

In that moment, every gaze was fixed on Ethan.

Arnold’s mask of calm finally cracked, showing genuine astonishment.

As for Richard?

His eyes burned with interest. "Student Ethan," he said, stepping toward him slowly, "that was... incredible. I doubt even the super cities have many like you."

He reached out to shake Ethan's hand. "You have a luminous future ahead. I will be keeping a close eye on you."

Arnold laughed from the side. "Well done, kid."

Ethan merely nodded, remaining as composed as ever. Yet, a spark of pride warmed his chest. He had made his presence known, and he could no longer be overlooked.

The remaining groups finished their turns, but the atmosphere had reached its peak. Nothing could top Ethan's performance.

By the end, seventy students had successfully cleared the strength test.

Richard clapped his hands to gather their attention. "Very well. Those who passed, follow me. It is time for the speed test."

The thirty who failed were disappointed but not broken. Many looked on with renewed determination, their eyes reflecting a desire to train harder.

The selected seventy followed Richard deeper into the facility, ready for the next challenge.