I can receive unlimited protection; my parents handed me over to the state.

The training ground is located on the east side of the building complex and covers a very large area.

Lu Yuan followed Zhao Qingxuan inside, and the scene before him surprised him.

This place doesn't resemble a training ground; it's more like a small military base. It has a standard 400-meter running track, various equipment areas, a combat ring, a shooting range… and everything else you could need. In one corner of the training ground, several armed helicopters and armored vehicles are parked.

"This is normally a training ground for special operations forces," Zhao Qingxuan explained. "But starting today, this will be your private training ground."

Lu Yuan was stunned.

"Exclusive?"

"Yes." Zhao Qingxuan adjusted his glasses. "As a member of the [God-Making Project], you have certain privileges."

He took out a black card from his pocket and handed it to Lu Yuan.

The front of the card features a dragon emblem, while the back displays Lu Yuan's photo and a serial number.

"This is your [ACE-level Access Card]," Zhao Qingxuan said. "With this card, you can access the resources of any military facility, research institute, or material warehouse within China. As long as you do not violate basic laws, you have the right to refuse anyone's orders, including those of a general."

Lu Yuan held the card, feeling its weight in his hand.

This card is much heavier than I expected.

"Of course, with great power comes great responsibility." Zhao Qingxuan's tone became serious. "If you cannot complete the task within a month, this card will be immediately revoked, and you will be downgraded to ordinary genius training."

Lu Yuan nodded.

"I see."

Zhao Qingxuan glanced at the watch.

"It's 3 PM now, five hours until 8 PM. Mr. Lu, your training can begin."

He snapped his fingers.

Two soldiers carried a huge metal backpack over and placed it in front of Lu Yuan.

"This is a 50-kilogram weighted backpack," Zhao Qingxuan said. "Please put it on and then run 10 kilometers along the track."

Lu Yuan stepped forward and tried lifting the backpack.

Very heavy.

He took a deep breath and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

Instantly, a heavy pressure pressed down on his shoulders, causing his body to sag slightly.

"Let's begin." Zhao Qingxuan pressed the timer in his hand.

Lu Yuan took a step and started running.

---

The first kilometer was fine.

Although Lu Yuan is not an athlete, he still has basic physical fitness.

But by the second kilometer, he began to feel the strain.

With 50 kilograms of weight pressing down on him, the muscles in his shoulders and legs protested violently with every step he took.

Sweat quickly soaked through his clothes, dripping down his cheeks onto the track.

His breathing became heavy, and his heart pounded violently in his chest.

The third kilometer.

Lu Yuan's steps began to falter.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going.

Standing by the track, Zhao Qingxuan held a tablet in his hand, recording data with a blank expression.

"Mr. Lu, your speed has decreased by 30%." His voice came through the headset. "At this rate, you won't be able to complete the task within the allotted time."

Lu Yuan did not answer.

He doesn't even have the strength to speak now.

The fifth kilometer.

Lu Yuan's legs had begun to tremble, and every step he took felt like he was fighting against gravity.

My vision began to blur, and the sound of breathing echoed in my ears.

He wanted to stop.

But he can't.

He remembered his father Lu Tianhe's trembling hands due to injury, the scene of his mother Lin Rou begging for help to prepare medicine for him, and Su Lie's words, "Whether it works or not depends on you."

He can't stop.

The seventh kilometer.

Lu Yuan's consciousness began to waver.

He felt that his body no longer belonged to him, and he was just mechanically repeating the action of "lifting his leg, landing, lifting his leg, landing".

Just then, Zhao Qingxuan's voice rang out again.

"Mr. Lu, there are still three kilometers to go."

"I know you're tired, but I have to tell you something."

"Your current physical fitness level is even lower than that of the weakest member of the God-Making Project."

"If you can't even complete this much training, then you're not qualified to stand on that stage at all."

Lu Yuan suddenly raised his head.

A hint of stubbornness flashed in his eyes.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to speed up.

Eighth kilometer.

The ninth kilometer.

The tenth kilometer.

The moment Lu Yuan crossed the finish line, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

Zhao Qingxuan walked over and glanced at the timer.

"Twenty-three minutes in one hour," he said. "Barely passing."

Lu Yuan lay on the ground, feeling as if all the bones in his body were about to fall apart.

"Ten-minute break," Zhao Qingxuan said. "After ten minutes, we'll begin the next training exercise."

Lu Yuan closed his eyes and felt the world spinning.

Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye.

Zhao Qingxuan appeared in front of Lu Yuan right on time.

"Mr. Lu, it's time for the next training exercise."

Lu Yuan struggled to his feet and followed Zhao Qingxuan to the other side of the training ground.

There, a row of knife racks was set up, with dozens of standard military knives neatly placed on them.

"Basic sword techniques, five thousand slashes," Zhao Qingxuan said. "The movements must be precise, otherwise they won't count."

Lu Yuan picked up a military knife and felt the weight of the blade.

"Let's begin."

The first knife.

Second knife.

The third cut.

……

For the first hundred cuts, Lu Yuan was able to maintain a standard posture.

But after 500 cuts, his arm started to ache.

After a thousand cuts, my arm began to tremble.

After two thousand cuts, each swing required gritting one's teeth and persevering.

Three thousand cuts.

Lu Yuan felt as if his arm no longer belonged to him.

The muscles are screaming, the bones are groaning.

But he can't stop.

Four thousand cuts.

The blade sliced ​​through the air, leaving a faint whooshing sound.

Lu Yuan's eyes had become vacant, and he had entered a mechanical state.

Swing the sword, sheath the sword, swing the sword, sheath the sword...

Five thousand dollars.

As the final strike was delivered, Lu Yuan's military knife clattered to the ground.

He fell backward, but Zhao Qingxuan caught him before he hit the ground.

"Not bad." Zhao Qingxuan rarely showed a smile. "You are more resilient than I imagined."

He took out a pale blue vial from his pocket and handed it to Lu Yuan.

"Drink it to restore your strength."

Lu Yuan took the medicine, unscrewed the cap, and drank it down in one gulp.

A cool sensation instantly spread from my throat throughout my body.

The tired muscles began to recover quickly, and the soreness subsided rapidly.

"This is..." Lu Yuan looked at the empty bottle in his hand in surprise.

"Military-grade physical recovery medicine," Zhao Qingxuan said. "It costs 300,000 per vial on the market, but we have plenty here."

Lu Yuan held the empty bottle, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside him.

This is the country's allocation of resources.

He gave away the 300,000-yuan dose of medicine without hesitation.