The first thing Yi Qiang did after he finished his run around the track was collapse to the ground. He had spent 12 days working without rest. Before that, the first section had occupied five days of his time. In those 17 days, Yi Qiang had worked tirelessly, straining his body and his mind perpetually.

Putting even thoughts of whether he was going to be able to pass the third section in the time he had, and any others there might be, Yi Qiang just lay there, letting the accumulated stress and tension seep out of his body.

As much as he tried, Yi Qiang was not a machine, nor was he omnipotent. He had limited willpower, like anyone else.

It had been a while since he reached that limit, but it was no less valid than that of anyone.

He let himself lie there, his mind soaking into his body and purely enjoyed the relaxation.

It was around ten minutes before Yi Qiang felt refreshed entirely, and he returned to training.

I needed that.

Now that he had stopped wasting energy and momentum in his movement, what Yi Qiang had to start spending his time on was the movement itself.

In his own experience, at least, Yi Qiang was pioneering what one could best describe as a new branch of martial arts. As such, he had to take it slow. There were no established ideas or refined training methods. He had to tackle this issue completely by himself, relying only upon his own hard work and capabilities.

The marksman began to run in slow motion, doing his best to picture in his mind where every bit of momentum and energy was going. He had a vague idea of what he wanted to do - if possible, Yi Qiang was looking to direct as much of the movement as possible forward, without losing any momentum. He had to find the point where all the aspects of running aligned perfectly.

Besides slow motion, the marksman also put several tools into use. He started tracing vague figures with his finger on the track, in order to help him see things without a third-person perspective.

The first thing he started messing with was the position of his torso. It made sense that it was essential to keep it bent forward - that would make it easier for his center of gravity to stay near the sole of his foot, which was from where most of the power when one ran came.

If the angle were too drastic, however, he would start having to allocate energy to keep himself from falling. Thus, it was a delicate balance, and finding it was a task that required a very keen perception of the body.

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Thankfully, that wasn't something Yi Qiang lacked, especially after the 12 days he spent refining his muscle sensitivity.

A few hours were spent running, in a constant state of trial and error. Constantly, he tweaked with the position of his torso, finally confident in his optimal placement after a few hours.

But he wasn't done. Nowhere near it.

The arc of his step, where he pushed off with each stride, even the movement of his arms - the list was endless. A neverending list of things he had to perfect, each complexly interrelated with the other.

The marksman had never realized just how complicated running was until that moment. Mechanically, it was something humans did on instinct, and would be nearly impossible to learn manually.

Now, though, Yi Qiang had to essentially relearn how he moved on foot. It was an extremely time-consuming and painful project, but one he had no choice to devote his all to.

It took two days of countless tinkering before Yi Qiang refined his form to where it was perfect, cutting down his time to 5.5 seconds.

It isn't enough.

As much as he was tempted to, especially for the final half a second, there was no point in brute-forcing the issue. He could only spend time to agonize over his movement, straining his mind as much as possible to uncover the flaws, no matter how tiny.

Three hours after, he was ready. His last run timed in at 5.02 seconds, meaning he needed five thousands of a second to pass the second section finally.

He spent thirty seconds placing himself into the optimal mental state to push himself to his limits. As much as he hated to admit it, Yi Qiang wasn't in control of anything - the effect of being "psyched up" was mysteriously crucial. Unfortunately, there was no way he could replace it with sheer will.

After bouncing on his toes for a few seconds, Yi Qiang stood at a random spot on the race track. A deep breath, and he exploded.

Darting around the race track, Yi Qiang ran at an incredible speed as his legs almost seemed to blur and fold space under them.

Early on, the marksman developed the trick of staring at a spot past where he needed to go through. It ensured he didn't slow down near the end, a problem Yi Qiang was not confident in avoiding entirely. Even if he could, the marksman was not willing to sacrifice the difference between passing and failing for it.

As he focused, time blurred together. It passed, but Yi Qiang didn't notice it as his mind focused solely upon running.

Time: 5.013.

You have passed this section.

Everything turned dark for a second before a new environment revealed itself to him.

The first thing he felt was a cool, salty wind against his cheek. Spread out before his eyes, Yi Qiang saw only the ocean, grand and a deep shade of unfathomable blue.

He couldn't resist taking a deep breath, feeling the fresh ocean air enter his lungs. Only after fully enjoying the experience did the marksman look around.

He was standing on a grassy cliff ledge, overlooking the ocean. Behind him, there was only another cutoff, dropping down to the ocean. Essentially, he had around two dozen square meters of grassy ground, before he was surrounded by sea.

The marksman waited patiently for the window explaining what he needed to do to appear - after all, there was no obvious objective like in the first section, so he assumed the third section would be like the second.

After a few minutes, Yi Qiang started getting worried.

There was no window.