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Chapter 133 The Gaze of God, The Darkest Hour Before Dawn

Day three.

Of the original three hundred people, only one hundred remain.

These one hundred people have become unrecognizable.

With sunken eyes and prominent cheekbones, everyone looked like a demon who had been through hell.

But their eyes became brighter than ever before.

It was a kind of madness driven to the extreme, a dead fire reigniting from ashes.

Chen Xi did not reappear on the high platform.

In the center of the training field, a huge LED live broadcast screen was erected.

The screen was black, with only a few lines of scrolling text.

Those were real-time bullet comments connected to Chen Xi's phone.

The ID that sent the bullet comments was the one they hated so much—[Erlang Xiansheng Zhenjun].

Chen Xi set up his phone in the monitoring room so that Yang Jian could "monitor the project remotely".

For the soldiers, this was a form of mental torture far more terrifying than physical torture.

"That one called Wild Wolf."

Suddenly, a line of text appeared on the screen, bright red and glaring.

"He got the pose right, but his spine was as stiff as a dead snake."

"The force originates from the ground, but breaks at the waist."

"With this kind of training, even if you train for another ten years, you'll still be crippled."

The wolf, who was gritting his teeth and persevering on the training ground, was so angry when he saw these words that he almost choked and nearly fell over.

"And the one on the right, the one in the camouflage vest."

The comments section started scrolling again, filled with scathing remarks that were utterly offensive.

"His breathing was as erratic as a bellows, and his heart was about to shatter, but he was still stubbornly holding on."

"What? You think you can break through by turning your face purple?"

"madness."

"Take it away, don't dirty this land."

Every comment was like an invisible slap in the face of these privileged individuals.

They didn't know who was on the other side of the screen.

They assumed he was some reclusive martial arts master, or an old monster invited by the state.

The feeling of being completely seen through and belittled to the point of being worthless brought them to the brink of collapse.

What they were so proud of—their willpower—seemed to be nothing more than laughable stubbornness in this person's eyes.

The sun was gradually setting.

The number of comments on the screen is decreasing.

This is not because they have mastered the skills.

It's because that "True Lord" seems to have become too lazy to even curse anymore.

Panic began to creep into the ranks—they felt abandoned.

Until the sun set, turning the entire training ground blood red.

Finally, the last message of the day popped up on the screen.

It was a forwarded message from Chen Xi, a private message sent to him by Yang Jian.

【Erlang Manifests His Divine Power】: @Chen Xi.

[Erlang Manifests His Divine Power]: This batch of seedlings is too poor.

【Erlang Manifests the Holy True Lord】: Even those few sweeping boys at the foot of Meishan Mountain have higher comprehension than them.

[Erlang Manifests True Lord]: This lord finds it annoying.

[Erlang Manifests the True Lord]: If by sunrise tomorrow no one has been able to complete a small cycle of Qi circulation and draw Qi into their body.

[Erlang Manifests His Divine Power]: I will no longer serve as an advisor.

[Erlang Manifests True Lord]: You should find someone else more capable, don't keep me from walking my dog.

Dead silence.

Utter silence.

This is more than just criticism.

This is the judgment.

Chen Xi's image appeared at the bottom of the screen.

He was still holding the teacup in his hand, his face even colder than the night.

"Did you hear that?"

Chen Xi's voice was as cold as ice.

"That important person is going to abandon you."

"In his eyes, you are not even qualified to be his mentors."

"A sweeping boy?"

Chen Xi chuckled.

"Those are servants who do odd jobs in other people's homes."

"You are not even as good as servants."

Chen Xi raised his wrist and glanced at his watch.

It's 8 PM now.

"Nine hours until sunrise."

"If no one has broken through by tomorrow morning."

Chen Xi paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the hundred "survivors" present like a sharp blade.

"The 'South Heavenly Gate Project' training camp will be disbanded on the spot."

"You are all eliminated."

"Go back to where you came from."

"Furthermore, I will forever engrave the word 'trash' on your files."

After that, the screen went black.

Only a lone searchlight remained on the drill ground, casting long, despairing shadows on everyone.

A desperate situation.

A true dead end.

If they fail, they will not only lose the opportunity to become the strongest, but will also bear the shame of being "worse than servants" for the rest of their lives.

No one speaks.

No one left.

The wolf slowly got up from the ground.

His knees were worn raw, and blood soaked through his trouser legs.

But he didn't get it bandaged.

He simply walked back to his seat silently.

Take a deep breath.

He struck that pose that caused him unbearable pain once again.

This time.

There was no anger or resentment in his eyes.

There is only one kind of extreme, pure focus.

That was a resolute decision to risk one's life.