Today was going to be a bountiful harvest of templates.
The selection trials had begun.
In the heavily fortified underground training arena, Russell stood poised. The first opponent was a familiar face, and his eyebrows rose slightly.
"Don't look so surprised. Of course I'm the first one up.
Teaming with a cold, humorless robot has some perks, after all."
Rex walked onto the field, casually glancing at the bulletproof glass on the second floor where several superheroes—his teammates and the robot—were watching.
He planted his feet on the ground, raised his hand in greeting with a lazy grin, still maintaining his usual devil-may-care attitude.
Clearly, he'd gotten wind of the Global Guardians' recruitment early and used his proximity and connection to the robot to snag the first slot.
Russell waved dismissively.
To him, it didn't matter who the first opponent was.
"I know how strong you are, so I won't hold back!" Rex took a deep breath and drew a metal rod from his waist. It charged up instantly, glowing ominously before he hurled it at Russell.
It exploded like a high-powered bomb, leaving a scorched crater in the steel flooring.
Russell vanished in a blink, reappearing ten meters away, hands clasped behind his back, calmly floating midair.
"Boom! Boom! Boom—!"
Rex's arms blurred, flinging alloy rods one after another, each one crackling with searing energy.
Each metal rod carved a blazing red arc through the air before detonating violently, the shockwaves rippling across the arena like overlapping waves, shaking the steel floor beneath them.
Yet—
Russell glided effortlessly through the barrage.
His white cape didn't even flutter, as if the explosions—powerful enough to tear steel—were nothing more than a warm summer breeze.
Each time a rod was about to hit, Russell's figure would shift ever so slightly, like a mirage, narrowly avoiding every strike with perfect precision.
"You've got to be kidding…" From the observation deck above, a superhero known for catching sniper bullets with his bare hands—Shrapnel—unconsciously narrowed his eyes, his pupils contracting sharply. "I can't even track his movements."
"He's so fast. I once encountered Hermes, the Messenger of the Gods—his speed wasn't much better than this," murmured a well-traveled demigod, slowly lowering his crossed arms.
[Conquest Points +7]
[Conquest Points +13]
[Conquest Points +34]...
"Damn it… the gap's not—can't be this big! With this many people watching, this is a total humiliation…"
In the center of the arena, sweat beaded on Rex's brow. His attacks grew increasingly wild, creating a curtain of blazing red in a last-ditch effort to land a single hit and salvage some pride.
But Russell continued weaving through the chaos with calm precision.
"Hah—" someone in the audience unconsciously held their breath. Only when they started to suffocate did they gasp awake and slap their numb face to shake off the tension crawling up their spine.
Russell's cape gently swayed amidst the smoke.
He finally came to a halt in the middle of the arena, eyes calmly locking onto his opponent.
Rex reached for his belt—only to grasp at nothing. His alloy rods were all gone.
"Want to keep going?"
Russell's voice was calm and even, his cape still pristine despite the smoggy battlefield.
He had given Rex ample opportunity to showcase his power, allowing him to wreak havoc on the entire arena.
"Of course!" Rex growled, clenching his fists. His alloy wrist guards glowed red-hot from overuse. "You expect me to admit defeat without even landing a hit?!"
He stomped forward, so hard the steel beneath his feet dented—clearly preparing for one final charge—
But Russell saw no reason to continue the trial.
"Whoosh!"
The white figure vanished like a ghost.
Rex's pupils contracted violently. Before he could react, a searing pain struck the back of his neck.
Russell had controlled his strength perfectly—not enough to knock Rex unconscious, but enough to send him sprawling and unable to move.
Thud!
Rex collapsed hard onto the floor, his face pressing against the scorched steel. Through his dazed vision, he only saw a pair of black combat boots pass calmly before his eyes.
Russell looked up, his gaze piercing the bulletproof glass, locking onto the spectators above.
[Rex Template Acquired]
"Next."
Those three simple words plunged the viewing platform into dead silence.
"Hiss—" Someone sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively stepped back. "Who's up next? Please don't be me…"
Atom Eve watched her scumbag ex-boyfriend get floored in front of everyone and let out a cold snort. Her brow lifted slightly, clearly pleased.
The more miserable Rex looked, the better.
"Russell flying speed?" Mark frowned, suddenly noticing something was off.
Russell hadn't moved that fast in the air before.
"Could it be… he's gotten stronger again?"
As the staff carried off the unconscious Rex, the duplicator Kate walked hesitantly onto the stage, arms crossed.
"Infinite, you're not going to treat me the same way you did Rex, are you?"
"Of course not."
A faint glimmer passed through Russell's eyes, but his tone remained neutral.
Kate the Duplicator—one of the few templates Russell had marked as high priority in this selection. She could freely create dozens of copies of herself.
If he could solidify that ability into a permanent template—and use it across any other power template…
"If that dream scenario comes true…"
Russell couldn't help but raise his eyebrows slightly.
Even if it didn't, he needed this duplicator template.
"Even if I do nothing, I'd have dozens of clones to study for me.
And anything they learn through training or studying—I'd instantly know."
"I… I'm ready!"
Kate clearly relaxed a bit after hearing Russell's assurance. She took a combat stance, then gave a low shout. Several afterimages flickered around her—seven clones materialized instantly.
Each clone took a different fighting stance, attacking from all directions.
Boxing jabs, wrestling throws, capoeira spin-kicks—her arsenal of martial arts flowed seamlessly, creating a barrage with no openings.
Russell didn't move.
His body remained rooted like a mountain. His movements showed no trace of any particular martial style—each strike was brutally simple yet terrifyingly precise.
Thud!
One clone crumpled from an elbow strike.
Crack!
A side kick crushed another's throat, followed by a spinning punch that sent another flying.
In just over twenty exchanges, the arena was littered with fallen clones. The original Kate staggered back, sweat trickling down her brow.
"I surrender," she panted, though her eyes showed gratitude—thankful Russell had gone easy on her.
She turned and left.
[Kate the Duplicator Template Acquired]
As the next challenger stepped onto the field, Russell flexed his wrist slightly, a flicker of anticipation gleaming in his gaze.
"Apologies, infinite. I needed a real fight. Don't hold back."
As expected, the third challenger was the final member of the Teen Task Force.
Atom Eve took a deep breath. Pink energy ignited from her fingertips like flames, flowing around her body until it solidified into a radiant suit of energy armor. She looked at Russell with determined eyes.
.....
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