"Step inside the chamber, please."

"Here...?"

"Yes."

"Hm..."

Adam carefully approached what could only be described as a colossal treadmill. The machine stretched nearly twenty feet in length and width; it might probably even be bigger than his old apartment.

"Step inside the chamber, please," the technician repeated, guiding Adam into the rectangular machine that enclosed the massive treadmill. The walls were lined with sensors, vents, and the same plates that were used back in the ECS Frame.

The technician followed him inside, adjusting the magnetic cuffs before fitting an oxygen mask over Adam’s nose and mouth. The mask felt heavy, but it wasn’t really connected to anything at all.

"This would measure your breathing, Mr. Smith," the technician explained. He took several steps back before standing in front of Adam.

"I am obligated to tell you that this endurance test will push your body and tolerance to their absolute limits. First, the system will calibrate based on your Strength test results, then possibly exceed those parameters. We’ll introduce various elements that could potentially wound, hurt, or even incapacitate you." The technician pointed at several parts of the chamber.

"Oxygen levels will decrease, temperature will fluctuate dramatically, and magnetic forces will apply stress to your body. Indirectly, we’ll also be testing your durability. Unlike the strength evaluation, this test won’t stop automatically—it continues until you verbally surrender or your body collapses completely."

Adam nodded his understanding.

"Do not worry, the mortality rate of this test is less than a percent."

"...So, someone already died here?"

"Good luck, Mr. Smith," the technician said, stepping out of the massive machine and not answering Adam’s question at all.

[Chamber closing in 3...]

The heavy doors of the chamber started to close, causing a hint of smoke to seep out.

And like before, the doctors focused primarily on their monitors rather than Adam himself. Through the observation window, one of them leaned toward the intercom.

[Are you ready, Mr. Smith?]

As soon as Adam nodded, the treadmill hummed to life beneath his feet. The belt moved at a gentle pace.

[Just maintain a light jog for now.]

"Got it," Adam started to move against the treadmill, doing as the doctor ordered. It... felt weird—not physically, not yet.

This should remind him of the Hospital. The tests, the orders, the voices... the doctors. And yet, it was only now that he thought of them—and it wasn’t even because of the tests at all, no. He wasn’t even thinking about the horrendous things he’d experienced there.

He was about to wonder why that was... but he already knew. Unlike in the Hospital... he had the option to stop here whenever he wanted to.

And soon, Adam wasn’t able to think anything else at all as he felt an incredible weight settle across his shoulders and chest, as if someone had draped a lead blanket over his entire body. It was the magnets again.

"Applied load now at sixty percent of Hero’s recorded maximum strength," one doctor announced.

Adam felt like invisible hands were pulling him backward with each step, but he maintained his pace.

Meanwhile, the doctors back at their station sipped their coffee casually. They weren’t looking at the monitors anymore, and some of them were chatting with each other—the Endurance test, after all, usually took a while.

"Increase load to seventy percent. Reduce oxygen concentration to sixteen percent."

The doctors remained casual, barely glancing at the monitors. One of the monitors showed the air growing thinner inside the chamber, and the way Adam exhaled and inhaled more frequently reflected that.

"SpO2 is stable. Heart rate elevated but within expected parameters." The technician nodded. "Drop to fourteen percent."

The doctors continued their conversation among themselves. But soon, one placed his coffee cup on the table and focused intently on his monitor.

"Vitals are... surprisingly still normal. Weird, I saw it drop earlier."

"Reduce to ten percent. Hold."

And soon, the other doctors also began setting down their coffee cups. "Saturation is going down... but no difference in movement?"

The doctors started looking at each other, squinting as some of them glanced at the intern, who now had his arms crossed.

"Begin thermal shift," the technician said. "Reduce chamber temperature to zero degrees Celsius."

Adam felt suffocated now, but he continued to jog. His breaths came out as wheezing gasps at first, and his lungs cracked from the chill. But soon, his breathing gradually stabilized. The doctors were beginning to look confused.

"His body... should be compensating by now."

"He is compensating."

"No—he’s stabilizing."

"Have... we ever recorded something like this before?"

"We have... but all of them are from—"

"Reduce temperature to negative ten degrees," the technician raised his hand, cutting everyone off as he adjusted the panel in front of him. Still, even as he reprimanded the other doctors, he, too, was actually quite curious as to what exactly was happening.

Adam’s vitals clearly showed red warning indicators, but his pace didn’t suffer. If anything, his stride seemed to grow more confident with each passing second.

"Now sudden increase of temperature to seventy-five degrees."

Adam’s vitals all flashed red across the board, but he continued running as if nothing had changed.

None of the doctors was speaking now.

"Apply intermittent force dispersion."

Adam felt a sudden, violent tug, as if someone had struck him hard across the legs. He dropped to his knees and was dragged several feet by the treadmill before managing to stand up.

Another violent tug hit his other leg, but he simply stood up again. Then he felt his tracking suit tighten around his torso, constricting his breathing further.

The doctors sat in extreme quiet as they stared at Adam’s vitals and the real-time scans of his body. Their expressions remained just curious at first.

But then... an hour had passed.

The doctors began to look at each other again, eyebrows raised in silent questions.

And then another hour passed.

The doctors now all had wide eyes—all of Adam’s vitals had somehow completely stabilized despite all the stress and pressure being thrown upon it.

And then, another hour passed.

Adam was now jogging completely normally, and all of his vitals were green.

Another hour had passed.

And now, no one could contain themselves from speaking.

"We’ve never seen anything like this before!"

"Once we remove all the pressure, his vitals all return to baseline. No—slightly above baseline."

"This might have something to do with his special ability."

"I concur. He did list his special ability as Regeneration, correct?"

"...But to this point? This isn’t regeneration... but adaptation."

Dr. Peterson, standing in the back, now looked directly at the senior doctor who had been scolding him earlier. The senior doctor was the only one who was quiet amongst his peers, staring intently at his monitor in an attempt to completely avoid the intern’s gaze.

"Mr. Smith." The technician’s voice crackled through the intercom. "How much longer do you think you could continue?"

Adam’s voice came back clear and steady. "I don’t know."

The doctors all turned to look at each other, then back at Adam, who continued his steady jog as if he could run forever.

"Hmm..." the technician glanced at the other doctors, and all of them nodded quietly in agreement.

"Well then, since the data and all of us agree..." he paused.

"Endurance classification, High S-tier."

Immortal In A Death Game Chapter 139

You May Also Like