Chapter Twenty-Eight: "The Supernatural"

The moment the data appeared, Zhou Shu nearly let loose a string of curses, but he quickly swallowed them back—after all, there were plenty of people around.

"Xiao Shou, what's going on? How could it estimate a score of 0.98?"

"The valuation procedure and determination program are operating normally. I suggest you move closer to observe for a more accurate assessment."

"On it."

With that, Zhou Shu made his way through the crowd.

He really had to get closer now. Good heavens, a maximum score of 0.98—astounding.

The world record for the men's 100-meter dash is 9.58 seconds, and the system rates the relevant stats at around 0.95. Now, 0.98 for agility...

"I think I've stumbled onto something extraordinary."

"At a distance of five meters, secondary data estimation complete."

"Strength: 0.94–0.97; Agility: 0.96–0.99; Endurance: 0.95–0.98."

After recalculating, the changes in the other stats aside, the highest number had actually gone up.

By now, Zhou Shu had entered the field and stood beside the onlookers, watching the person inside dart and weave.

He noticed the other's rhythm was excellent, but the speed was not outrageous, so he asked Xiao Shou, "Is this person holding back? Don't tell me 0.99 agility is just this?"

"Correct. The target is currently using about 0.91 strength and 0.93 agility, maintaining a level between world champion and international master athlete."

Zhou Shu nodded unconsciously, then, after a while, asked, "Xiao Shou, are you sure the world champion level is 0.95?"

"Not certain. The previous data was derived from video analysis, not real observation, so world champion stats should be around 0.95."

"Most importantly, a world champion's performance can't be equated with the human limit."

Fair enough—that made sense.

There are eight billion people on Earth; not everyone seeks the spotlight, and some don't need achievements or fame to embellish their lives.

Still, 0.99 was simply staggering—wasn't this approaching the theoretical human limit? That number "1."

Of course, theory is usually a step away from reality, and most theories only apply to general cases, not the extremes.

Among eight billion, there are bound to be anomalies.

Take "hyperthymesia" for example—a rare condition, technically a mutation, but with effects akin to superpowers.

Hyperthymesia is a highly unusual medical phenomenon, a branch of non-selective memory, manifesting as the brain's automatic recording system.

People with this condition use the left frontal lobe, which processes language, and the posterior parietal cortex, which stores visual memory, to hold long-term memories.

They lack the ability to forget, which is why hyperthymesia is a disorder—a passive skill.

Those afflicted remember every single detail of their lived experiences with perfect clarity, whether painful or joyful.

But they often suffer from headaches, dizziness, autism, depression, and mental confusion.

Some sufferers have said, "This ability is nothing like what outsiders imagine."

Moreover, this disorder only passively enhances memory, not logical thinking. Trying to become a scientist or the like with this alone is no different from anyone else—it all depends on innate talent.

In fact, they might fare worse than average. If talent is mediocre, an ordinary person can at least maintain clear logic, whereas those with hyperthymesia may be overwhelmed by an avalanche of memories. Without proper organization, they could easily collapse mentally.

Out of the Earth's eight billion, only around twenty cases have ever been documented.

They either appear in documentaries and variety shows, or they "moonlight" in various medical research institutions.

Theoretically, there are no more than seventy such people worldwide—about one in 117 million.

How many there were throughout history is unknown; perhaps some famous historical figures had similar "superhuman" conditions.

Because of this, Zhou Shu was now desperate to find out who this person was. How could such a figure exist in Dongyuan City?

He glanced around, then politely asked a burly man next to him, "Excuse me, sir, may I ask who that person doing parkour is?"

The muscular young man turned and saw Zhou Shu wearing glasses and a school uniform. Instead of answering, he asked, "You don't do extreme sports, do you? Or follow the scene?"

"Uh, no, just passing by."

"That explains it," the man nodded, then introduced with enthusiasm and pride, "That's Coach Zhang Peng. He's an instructor at our city's Ripple Sprint Extreme Sports Club, and a registered coach and referee with the National Extreme Sports Association."

"He's trained several world champions, and his expertise spans parkour, rock climbing, BMX, and more—he's a real powerhouse!"

Zhou Shu nodded in understanding—no wonder the agility stat was off the charts.

Indeed, it was… unbelievable!

As soon as the introduction ended, Zhang Peng finished his run, and the others hurried over.

"Coach Zhang, you’re amazing!"

"I was blown away, Coach!"

"Coach, please teach me, I’m Lightning’s friend!"

"Coach, how do you make your moves so smooth?"

"Coach Zhang…"

Seeing the others gather around, Zhou Shu joined in, eager to get closer for more precise physical data.

But as an ordinary student, he couldn't muscle through a crowd of parkour enthusiasts.

He settled for getting as close as possible, then took out his phone to look up information on Zhang Peng.

What he found shocked him.

In the eyes of ordinary people, "Coach Zhang Peng" barely registered—he'd never entered the public eye. But in the world of extreme sports enthusiasts, he was a towering figure.

It wasn't that his own athletic prowess was so extraordinary—his highest honor was only third place in a national competition—but his teaching ability was truly remarkable.

In the realm of extreme sports, six world champions were his disciples, and over a dozen had taken his classes. It was said that dozens publicly credited their victories to his guidance.

He was also generous with his expertise. Besides coaching at Ripple Sprint, he often attended enthusiast events, giving free advice, reportedly in search of promising new talent at the grassroots.

Sure enough, Zhang Peng soon quieted the crowd and began patiently explaining technique. Zhou Shu listened in as well.

Not that it would do him much good.

These weren't basic skills but advanced techniques.

According to the Hunter's estimates, you'd need at least 0.8 or higher physical stats to even attempt them, especially high agility. Zhou Shu's agility was his strongest attribute, but even then, it was only 0.75.

If he maxed out agility now, he'd reach 0.83, though that was because he hadn't trained agility much in the virtual arena at first, missing some gains compared to his other stats.

Honestly, he found these techniques for weaving through complex environments enviable.

Zhou Shu thought, if he mastered them… maybe he'd get to the cafeteria faster after school?

After all, when school ended, students would charge for the cafeteria like rabid dogs; if you were late, all the good food would be gone. He felt this skill was absolutely essential.

But to learn this, boosting agility alone wasn't enough—strength had to hit a baseline too, at least 0.8; otherwise, you couldn't jump high or grip walls, and agility alone would be useless.

And he'd been thinking about boosting endurance as well…

"Damn it, they say single attributes cost less energy to level up, but I always end up saving up to boost them all at once."

Because he was so curious about Zhang Peng, Zhou Shu stayed a long time, trying every way to get closer. When the instructor finished his lesson and others gradually went off to practice, he finally got his chance.

Seizing the moment when only a few people remained, Zhou Shu got within a meter of Zhang Peng, scanned for ten seconds, and collected the data.

A few stragglers were still asking questions, but Zhou Shu had to slip away quickly.

Because he was afraid he… couldn’t resist!

"Dammit, there really are people with stats over 1!"

PS: Today is the Dragon Raises Its Head festival, our village’s temple fair—had guests at home, so this was posted late~~