Chapter Eleven: The Atlas of Human Physical Qualities
As the number of people being compared increased, the data became more complete, so the Hunter provided an average attribute value of 0.75 for mid-18-year-old adolescents. At Dongyuan No.1 High School, there were several newly graduated intern teachers, aged between 22 and 27—ordinary adults at their physical peak—with the system giving them an average value of about 0.8.
Within this age group, the average attributes for males would slightly exceed 0.8, while some females wouldn't reach 0.8, and natural physiological differences began to show. After the age of 30, the values would basically stop increasing, and the older one got, the more sharply those values would decline.
In fact, once an attribute exceeded 0.8, further improvement required a prerequisite: "training." With the addition of "training," the gap between those approaching adulthood and those already adults wasn't significant.
Take the school's athletes, for example. Some had not yet reached 18 or had just turned 18, yet their physical fitness surpassed that of ordinary adult teachers, and even their 40-year-old PE teachers. Thus, when an ordinary person's physical attribute exceeds 0.8—especially when it clearly reaches the 0.85 tier—it is the result of dedicated training.
Moreover, upon reaching the 0.85 tier, differences among various attributes tend to become more pronounced. After all, the human body is complex; becoming a perfectly "balanced warrior" is extremely difficult. In the process of human growth, various factors inevitably lead to the enhancement or weakening of certain attributes, making it hard for all attributes to progress in lockstep.
Take Zhou Shu, for example. His endurance was currently lower than his other attributes. This could be due to innate factors or a result of environment, habits, nutrition, and other acquired influences. Perhaps training could improve it, or perhaps it would never catch up.
Similarly, sprinters have explosive short-distance speed and powerful legs for bursts of acceleration. To achieve faster sprints, they undergo specialized training, causing their overall musculature to adapt—consequently, their long-distance endurance declines. Of course, this "decline" is relative to long-distance runners; compared to untrained individuals, even their endurance remains an insurmountable peak.
Humans have limits and cannot excel in all aspects simultaneously; trying to do so ensures that the overall cap is not high. It’s like Zhou Shu, who juggled both art and academics, having to split his time, whereas everyone else only had 24 hours in a day—unlike Zhang Heng, who seemed to have 48. Assuming that a typical humanities student spends ten hours a day studying, Zhou Shu, an art student, would only have five. Given equal ability, with less study time, an art student's academic performance would naturally lag behind that of a regular humanities student.
On the other hand, although Dongyuan No.1 High didn’t have soldiers, boxers, wrestlers, or top athletes—nor any foreigners—the internet was so developed that all sorts of information were readily available. Learning about basic facts was not difficult at all: how fast the world’s best sprinters could run, how long human endurance could last, how much weight a champion lifter could raise—all these statistics were clearly recorded.
With these data, today's firsthand observations, and Zhou Shu himself as a real-world sample, the Hunter established several tiers for attribute values above 0.8. Since athletics best showcased physical qualities, sports competitions were used as the standard.
Those who engaged in long-term self-training without specialized adaptation could reach roughly 0.85, with robust physical fitness equivalent to a national Level II athlete in the Great Qin. For example, if strength reached 0.85, agility and endurance would also be fairly high. In the 100-meter dash, a stellar performance could achieve an electronic time of 11.5 seconds. Even without perfect execution, running 11.74 seconds would meet the national Level II standard for sprinters.
From 0.85 onward, further improvement required highly specialized, targeted training and a clear development focus—diversifying would no longer be advisable. With proper training and further gains, one could participate in major domestic competitions.
If any attribute reached 0.9, that was a solid Level I athlete in the Great Qin, even brushing the minimum threshold for the title of "Elite Athlete." In sprinting terms, an exceptional performance could break the 10.5-second mark—the bare minimum for elite status. Even without a perfect race, a time around 10.9 seconds would meet Level I standards.
An athlete with a 0.9 attribute was no longer anonymous—such performers could contend for national titles. Should their strength reach 0.92, with other attributes not lagging far behind, their best 100-meter dash could be 9.9 seconds. At present, this was the best ever achieved in the Great Qin—a national and Asian record.
If any one of the five main attributes reached 0.95, that was unequivocally world champion level. In terms of the 100-meter dash, this translated to a potential time of roughly 9.5 seconds. The current world record stood at 9.58 seconds—held by a foreigner.
Such differences were inevitable, given slight variations among Earth's populations and their "innate skills." Strength and endurance were not the strong suits of the Great Qin. However, in the realm of agility, Asians excelled, especially in table tennis, where Great Qin's athletes consistently dominated, prompting the International Table Tennis Federation to repeatedly revise the rules.
Zhou Shu had the potential to allocate points. If he raised one of his attributes to 0.95, wouldn't that be...?
Amazing! The thought made Zhou Shu’s blood surge with excitement. Even the dream of becoming a super scientist was momentarily cast aside.
In fact, the system's calculated numbers were all standard values. Most humans could not consistently perform at their absolute peak, but Zhou Shu was different—his body had been transformed by source energy, allowing him to fully unleash his "temporary upper limits."
If it was truly possible to allocate attributes to such extremes, perhaps being a super-athlete wouldn’t be a bad path. Higher, faster, stronger—this had always been humanity’s pursuit!
Given this reasoning, the number "1" likely corresponded to the limits of human potential. After all, a 0.95 attribute could break world records, records that often stood unchallenged for years.
"Could '1' really be the human limit?"
Thinking of human limits and the 0.95 attribute value, Zhou Shu turned his attention to his highest attribute. His mental attribute had mutated to 0.91, and after further increases, reached a staggering 0.93.
By the numbers alone, it wasn’t quite at world record level, but at the very least, it placed him among the international elite. If this value were translated into the strength attribute, and other weaker attributes were ignored, it would be roughly equivalent to running a 100-meter dash in an extreme 9.75 seconds.
That time, while not quite matching the world record of 9.58 seconds, was impressive—the record holder had only ever achieved that peak once; subsequent times ranged from 9.6 to 9.8 seconds, slowing with age and injury, until he retired years ago.
Thus, if Zhou Shu could actually run 9.75 seconds in the 100 meters, he might not break the world record, but he would still have a shot at becoming world champion.
Of course, these were mere fanciful thoughts—his strength attribute was nowhere near that high; it was his mental attribute that stood out. Yet the mental attribute was far too mysterious to measure—there were no standards and certainly no competitions.
The only thing Zhou Shu could think of related to mental attributes was hypnosis. But it wasn’t as if there were hypnosis competitions—and besides, he didn’t know how to hypnotize, nor was he sure if it was even related to mental strength.
At this point, the considerate Hunter provided an answer:
[Data missing, unable to answer. It is recommended you gather more information.]
Well then, a golden finger with missing data was truly unreliable.