The skyline was tinged with a layer of pale dawn. This jungle of steel and concrete remained immersed in the tranquility of dawn. The city’s pulse had yet to beat, with only sanitation trucks occasionally passing by, playing looping music. Xiao Shuai yawned as he walked out of the bedroom, his eyes half-closed, his hair a messy bird’s nest. When his gaze habitually swept across the living room, his entire being froze in place like a wooden stake. Check latest chapters at NovєlFіre.net The unfinished yawn in his throat was forcefully swallowed back down. The remnants of his drowsiness instantly vanished. By the window at the front of the living room, a figure was quietly doing a handstand. It wasn’t the acrobatic handstand common in circuses, but a pose that defied the common sense of physics. The whole body was astonishingly balanced on a single index finger planted on the floor, rising and falling up and down. The faint morning light sketched the silhouette, as if it were a finely carved work of art. There wasn’t an ounce of extra fat, just a layer of bronze skin covering dense and solid muscles. From fingertips to the closed legs, the entire body stretched into a perfect straight line, like a javelin piercing the sky. Together with the towering skyscrapers outside the window, it formed a strange and harmonious silhouette. Xiao Shuai rubbed his eyes instinctively, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. Late last night, the President suddenly arrived, saying he wanted to personally monitor Noah Pharmaceutical’s movements. The two of them watched the window, receiving information through earpieces, until after one in the morning when they finally went to rest. Xiao Shuai assumed that no matter how strong the President was, being human, he would at least sleep until dawn. After all, such intense surveillance tasks greatly consume one’s Spirit. But now...what time is it? Not only was the President already awake, but...what was he doing? Xiao Shuai’s mind went blank, his gaze fixed on the finger supporting the body’s weight, his Adam’s apple rolling once. Doing handstand pushups with a single finger? This had gone beyond his understanding of human physical capabilities. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it no matter what. But the scene in front of him was more impactful than any movie special effects. It suddenly reminded him of a scene in the teahouse. The President effortlessly treated two knife-wielding robbers like hand grip tools, tossing them back and forth in the air with a hint of boredom on his face. That was the first time he felt firsthand the superhuman strength of the President. And now, he saw the true source of that strength. Clearly, the President already possessed strength beyond ordinary people. Yet he still used every unsleeping dawn to grind and temper his body in the most rigorous, unimaginable ways. This discipline, which had seeped into his bones and become instinctual, shook Xiao Shuai more than the non-human strength itself. At this moment, the President seemed completely unaware that there was another person in the living room, fully absorbed in training. The finger in contact with the floor was as stable as if it had taken root, no trembling at the knuckles, steadfastly supporting his strong body. A drop of sweat rolled from the corner of his forehead, sliding along the taut jawline, making an almost inaudible "tap" sound. His upper body was bare, each muscle under extreme control. No exaggerated bulges, but a refined sturdiness forged through countless drills. His latissimus dorsi folded like wings, abdominal muscles distinct, like a sculpture, every inch exuding harmonious strength and beauty. As his arms bent downward, his body slowly descended, stable as a hydraulic press. Then, with a slight exertion of the finger joint on the floor, his body was pushed up again, held steady. The whole process was smooth and tranquil, filled with an ease of complete mastery. Xiao Shuai instinctively held his breath, not daring to make a sound. He remembered the Illuminati’s creed. "To build order in the chaos of darkness, to protect everything worthy of protection with absolute strength." So this was the origin of "absolute strength." It wasn’t a gift bestowed from thin air, nor a vague Talent. It was forged from every unnoticed drop of sweat, every time limits were surpassed, day after day, year after year, from the most basic of trainings. An indescribable heat surged forth from the deepest part of Xiao Shuai’s heart. It flowed through his limbs and bones in an instant, dispelling the remaining drowsiness, invigorating him entirely. He was the second member of the Illuminati, the first under the President. This position, like in those martial arts novels, equated to being the sect’s head disciple, second only to one person. The President was so strong and disciplined, what excuse did he have for idleness or laziness? Following the steps of the strong did not mean merely cheering from behind. It meant pushing oneself with all one’s might, so as not to be left too far behind. At the very least, he needed to clearly see the strong one’s back. Xiao Shuai immediately resolved that starting today, he would also begin training. Though currently weak, not even comparable to one of the President’s fingers. But in training, the true competition wasn’t against others, but against yesterday’s self. As long as he was slightly stronger than yesterday each day, someday he too could become truly strong, qualified to share in the President’s burdens, rather than always hiding under his protection.