The Su God of the Reopening of the Sports Arena

Chapter 2554 35.80 seconds! He beat the entire Jamaica to a pulp.

The night sky above the Bird's Nest was completely ignited by the figures on the track at that moment.

The yellow warning line has been lit in the exchange zone for the third and fourth batters of the US team, and the length of the pre-run zone is strictly limited to the limits allowed by the rules.

The third runner, Guy, exerted all his strength to swing his body as fast as he could, his arms stiffly stretching backward, his fingertips almost touching the palm of the receiver.

However, a slight, almost imperceptible deviation occurred in the pace of the run at high speed, and the angle at which the baton was passed was off by half an inch.

This caused Rogers, who was taking over the baton, to momentarily miss his grip.

If it were Gay at his peak, he could definitely continue this career, but not now.

Guy had already rushed out of the handover zone, and inertia carried him forward, the baton hanging in mid-air like a shooting star that had lost its orbit.

Rogers was forced to stop half a step, reaching out to grab it. His center of gravity collapsed instantly, and his smooth acceleration rhythm was completely broken.

He staggered a step, then tried to push off the ground again.

It was all too late.

They could only watch the tragedy unfold before leaving the handover area.

mistake.

A complete blunder.

Just like in history, there was no miracle, no way to salvage the situation.

All the advantages the team had accumulated in the previous stages vanished in the instant of this handover.

They've even lost the right to sprint at full speed.

They could only run the remaining distance amidst chaos and frustration, becoming the most helpless backdrop in this ultimate showdown.

but.

The audience's gaze did not linger on them for more than a second.

Not many people even pay attention to them.

The reason is that they are no longer the main characters in this game.

All eyes were fixed on the two black and red figures that almost merged into one in the center of the track.

Zhao Haohuan and Powell.

China vs. Jamaica.

The fourth leg, the ultimate showdown.

The moment the handover was completed, Zhao Haohuan had already used the dual advantages of the forward-pushing handover to widen the distance between the two to a full two meters.

This lead is not due to luck.

This position is achieved through superior technology.

Powell did not hesitate or make any adjustments after taking over the baton; all his muscles tensed to their limit in an instant.

His thigh muscles were like springs compressed to their limit, each push off the ground unleashing a force powerful enough to tear the air apart. His ankles provided rigid support, and his feet gripped the ground tightly, converting every bit of the ground's reaction force into forward kinetic energy.

Lower your upper body to the lowest point, swing your arms to the maximum range, and precisely position your elbows at the angle that is most conducive to acceleration.

Shoulders don't sway.

The torso does not twist.

His gaze was fixed on the finish line ahead.

He's working hard.

Give it your all for the best stretch of your career.

The explosive power accumulated over a century in Jamaican sprinting.

They're pushing the limits of the fourth runner, a feat that everyone thought was impossible to surpass.

20 m.

Powell's acceleration has reached the pinnacle of human ability.

The stride frequency is so fast that it leaves a blur, the stride length is extended to its maximum in a very short time, and the speed curve soars upward at an almost vertical angle.

Each step was perfectly balanced between power and speed, the air was forcibly torn apart in front of him, and the resistance was reduced to a minimum.

He could clearly feel the whistling wind in his ears.

I could feel the soreness and burning sensation in my legs.

You can feel every fiber in your body contracting frantically in an attempt to catch up.

He is closing the gap.

At a speed visible to the naked eye, the chasm created by the forward-pushing handover is being narrowed.

Zhao Haohuan did not relax at all during this period.

Because he had already anticipated all of this.

The fourth runner is the best in the world.

Powell is the only one who can do it.

Having faced off against Powell so many times, how could he not know this?
Bang bang bang bang bang.

Zhao Haohuan maintained the perfect fluidity of the forward-pushing handover.

Keep your center of gravity steady, maintain your rhythm, and keep applying force continuously.

The forward thrust from Su Shen seemed to still linger in his body, keeping him in a state of maximum efficiency from the moment he received the baton.

He didn't deliberately look at his opponents.

He was not distracted by Powell's furious pursuit.

All I could hear was my own breathing and the sound of my footsteps hitting the ground.

Each push-off was stable, solid, and powerful.

The rebound is quick and light, like a machine tuned to its limit, wasting not a single bit of energy.

The two-meter advantage was negated within those 20 meters.

40 m.

Powell has fully entered the mid-race high-speed zone.

His speed has already exceeded his personal normal limits. This fourth batter was faster, more fierce, and more reckless than any of his major finals.

He's just like a slightly weaker version of Usain Bolt.

It can be associated with the name Bolt.

Do you know how terrifying that is?

He's at least as good as Usain Bolt from a few years ago.

If Bolt doesn't undergo a comprehensive upgrade and doesn't go to the United States...

That's very likely the case.

The legacy of Jamaican lightning erupted completely in him.

He doesn't care about the physical exertion in the later stages.

They don't care about the maximum pressure their muscles can withstand.

He only knew one thing—to chase.

They caught up with the red figure ahead.

To reclaim Jamaica's glory.

Powell's stride was wide and sweeping, with each step covering nearly three meters.

Step frequency remains high.

Body control at high speeds is an art.

The track receded rapidly beneath his feet.

The shouts from the audience blurred into a deafening roar in my ears.

In his world, all that remained was the back view in front of him.

The gap continues to narrow.

From two meters, he was forcibly pressed down by more than one meter and still had four body lengths left.

Zhao Haohuan remained as steady as a mountain.

He didn't lose his rhythm despite Powell's relentless pursuit.

Forcibly increasing step frequency does not lead to distorted movements, nor does it.

There was no fluctuation in the center of gravity due to pressure.

Because he had already gone through all of this countless times in his mind.

Powell's strength.

No one understands him better than him.

Therefore, it is entirely within the plan.

What is there to panic about?

Bang bang bang bang bang.

The acceleration advantage brought by the forward-pushing handover translates into stable high-speed endurance in this segment.

His posture was more relaxed, less strenuous, and more enduring than Powell's.

Swing your arms naturally and relaxed, push off the ground fully and powerfully, and keep your torso upright without being stiff.

The entire running curve was so smooth that there wasn't a single ripple.

Having gained a significant advantage, he knew that all he had to do was keep running and maintain his position.

He could feel the pressure coming from behind him.

You could feel Powell's almost insane impact.

But he didn't panic.

There was no chaos.

No refund.

They still had a four-body-length advantage, but he kept them firmly in front of him.

60 m.

Powell has pushed speed to its absolute limit in his lifetime.

My breathing started to become rapid.

My lungs felt like they were being burned by fire, and lactic acid was rapidly accumulating in my muscles. Every time I lifted my leg, I had to overcome an increasingly heavy and sore feeling.

But he still didn't slow down.

They did not give up.

His arms continued to swing wildly, and his legs continued to push off the ground with all their might.

At that moment, Powell could see Zhao Haohuan's back right in front of him, so close that it seemed he could reach out and touch him.

It's only a little over a meter long.

With a Black person's arm span, it really does feel like you could reach out and touch them.

It was so close that he had the illusion that he could overtake them in the next step.

He used all his talent.

They gave it their all in training.

He gave his all, sacrificing all the dignity he had as Jamaica's top sprinter.

can.

That's the difference.

It stayed a little over a meter away.

It can no longer be shrunk even by a fraction.

Zhao Haohuan entered the most stable high-speed cruising phase during this section.

His speed did not decrease at all.

The movement was flawless, and the smooth, seamless transition provided by the forward-pushing handover was fully demonstrated at this moment.

He doesn't need to overexert his body to maintain top speed like Powell, nor does he need to rely on ferocious exertion to compensate for the losses during the initial startup phase.

From the moment he took over the baton, he has been in his most comfortable and efficient running zone.

Every step was light yet powerful, every breath steady and regular, and the body maintained an amazing balance at high speed.

He knew someone was chasing him.

I knew that he was the world's top fourth batter.

Knowing that the other party has already given it their all.

But he still steadily maintained the one-meter distance in front of him.

No refund.

No.

Not lost.

And he is very confident in one thing.

My own top speed.

Once it's fully up and running.

Even if you are Powell.

Even I am not as good as myself.

It's that simple.

In this world, the fastest person can outrun you.

Not including you, Powell.

80 m.

Powell's physical abilities began to show a visible decline.

Even with his historically exceptional physical abilities, he finally reached his limit under such intense and frantic pursuit.

The cadence decreased slightly, the stride length began to shrink slightly, and the thighs were lifted less than before.

The force of pushing off the ground weakened slightly.

He is still sprinting with all his might, still gritting his teeth and persevering.

But that violent impact could narrow the gap.

It has gradually dissipated.

They pushed themselves to the limit.

He squeezed out the last bit of explosive power from his body.

But they could never get that final meter closer.

Zhao Haohuan maintained a stable output during this period.

He could feel the pressure behind him gradually decreasing.

You can sense that Powell's pace is no longer as aggressive as before.

He didn't choose to speed up and shake off the competition, nor did he choose to risk changing his rhythm; he simply maintained the pace he was most familiar with.

Steadily moving forward.

The red battle robe fluttered in the wind.

The track receded smoothly beneath my feet.

The finish line became clearer and clearer in sight.

That one-meter advantage was like being welded to the track.

Not moving.

80m-100m.

The last twenty meters.

The decisive moment.

Powell let out a low growl that was barely suppressed.

The remaining strength in his body erupted completely at this moment.

He forcefully lifted his heavy legs, swung his arms more widely, and stared intently ahead.

Make one last desperate strike.

This is his last chance.

They are Jamaica's last hope.

He almost poured his soul into his legs.

Just to shrink that last insurmountable meter or so.

indeed.

After it took effect, the size began to shrink again.

But that is, it has shrunk.

It's all too late.

Zhao Haohuan remained completely calm in the final stage.

He did not lunge forward like the other athletes.

Forcibly pressing the line.

No action was taken that risked for even a fraction of a second.

He maintained his full and fluid sprinting form.

Shoulders level.

The torso is upright.

The pace was steady.

And so, in an almost relaxed manner.

Step by step, we approached the finish line.

There was no ferocity.

There was no dishevelment.

There was no overdraft.

calm.

Stable. Composed.

"Powell is already falling behind!"

"There's no chance for him anymore!"

"Zhao Haohuan! He withstood the pressure!"

"No chance!!!"

"Charge to the finish line!!!!!!!!!"

call------

The red figure was the first to cross the finish line.

The entire stadium fell silent for a moment, followed by a deafening roar powerful enough to lift the Bird's Nest dome.

The timer was ticking away frantically.

The numbers freeze.

35 seconds 80.

Seize, seize less?

Was it under 36 seconds?
Did he improve his own world record by 0.4 seconds in one go?

On the giant screen in the Bird's Nest, the red numbers were dazzling and eye-catching.

A line of annotation follows immediately.

WR.

New world record.

It is 0.4 seconds faster than the previous world record.

Alongside the Chinese team's performance, the Jamaican team's results were equally impressive.

35 seconds 90.

This result, placed in any major competition in history, would be enough to secure a victory. It would be enough to leave all opponents in despair. It would be enough to allow the Jamaican team to celebrate their victory prematurely. Their run was a historic achievement, a perfect performance worthy of being recorded in history. Breaking the 36-second barrier was the foundation of their confidence in winning.

They believed that 35.90 seconds was the limit for human beings.

Until they saw the results of the Chinese team.

35 seconds 80.

Faster than them.

It is stronger than history.

It goes even further than they considered impossible.

The Jamaican team members stood on the track, staring blankly at the big screen.

Bolt looked incredulous.

Powell bent over, hands on his knees, panting heavily, his eyes filled with resentment and shock. They had fought to the very last moment, achieving their best times, yet they still could only stand in second place, watching that red figure ascend to the top of the world.

They didn't lose because of their hard work.

They didn't lose because of a lack of talent.

It wasn't a matter of attitude that caused us to lose.

They lost because of a handover technology from the future.

They lost because of a lead that was destined to be irreversible from the moment they took over the baton.

On the commentary panel.

Yang Jian's voice was hoarse from shouting, his emotions breaking through all restraint and erupting completely:

"Cross the finish line!!!"

"The Chinese team is the first to cross the finish line!!"

"35...35.80 seconds!!!"

"Humanity has entered the 35-second realm!!!"

"World record!!! A new world record!!!"

"We broke the world record!! We are number one in the world!!!"

Liu Xiang, standing beside him, could no longer control his emotions. He suddenly stood up, clenched his fist, raised his arm, and roared throughout the entire stadium:
"World record!!"

"We did it!! Chinese sprinting did it!!"

"4x100 meters, we are the fastest in the world!!"

"We defeated Jamaica!!!!!!!!!"

"We are the champions!!!!!!!!!"

Their voices overlapped.

With trembling hands and hot tears.

With suppressed excitement for almost a minute.

The explosion resounded in the ears of every audience member.

All 90,000 audience members stood up at the same time.

Shouts, screams, cheers, and cries.

The national flags on the stands formed a sea of ​​red.

The flashes of light created a sea of ​​stars.

The applause and cheers were deafening.

The Bird's Nest became a carnival for Chinese sprinters at this moment.

The explosive sound spread throughout the entire venue.

Excited roars filled the air.

Zhao Haohuan stood beside the finish line.

He was breathing slightly heavily.

Look up at the big screen.

35 seconds 80.

WR.

He smiled.

There was no ecstasy to the point of losing control.

I wasn't so excited that I knelt down.

She just smiled calmly.

His eyes held a sense of relief and light.

Because of this result.

Because of this advantage.

It's only natural.

The advantage lies in those two meters of the handover area.

He knew it.

China is guaranteed to win.

Even though Powell chased him down by a meter.

Even though he himself couldn't beat Powell's fourth batter.

But this is a holistic game.

I am not as good as you on my own.

It doesn't mean I'm inferior to you overall.

He did it.

The Chinese team did it.

The forward-pushing handover completely rewrote the history of the 4×100-meter relay.

It starts up faster.

It's faster and smoother.

Faster and earlier.

The advantages are more stable.

Powell ran the super fourth batter.

Even pushing to the limit and closing the gap by just one meter, it's still impossible to cross that final chasm built by technology.

Jamaica ran a historic time of 35.90 seconds, confident of a victory, but could only watch as China finished with a time of 35.80 seconds...

Standing at the very top of the world.

This is not luck.

Not a coincidence.

It wasn't an accident.

This is Chinese sprinting, using the most advanced technology, the most rigorous training, and the most seamless teamwork.

A new world record that was broken through sheer hard work.

The moment the red line at the finish line was crossed, Mills seemed to be nailed to the spot.

Unable to move.

He didn't cheer, didn't clench his fist, and showed none of the composure expected of a top coach.

Those eyes have watched decades of sprint finals.

Eyes that have witnessed countless world records being set.

He was staring intently at the timer.

The pupils were contracting rapidly.

35 seconds 90.

He knew the significance of this number better than anyone else.

Jamaica's four batters were all at their peak, with zero errors in the baton exchange. Powell, the fourth batter, pushed himself to the point of near muscle cramps, and the whole team combined to run 35.90 seconds—a limit they rarely reached in pre-race training.

It is a championship result that can crush any previous World Championships in history.

Open it for 36 seconds, and you'll be invincible.

Then the next line of numbers jumped out at me like a glaring glare.

35 seconds 80.

WR.

New world record.

Mills' breath hitched.

It felt like a block of ice had been smashed into my chest.

A chill ran from my throat to the bottom of my lungs.

He spent his entire life studying relay racing and delving into acceleration, devoting half his life to pursuing "zero errors and low losses," believing that this was the ceiling for human relay racing.

He watched his time get closer to 36 seconds and even break 36 seconds during training.

He believed this system was unbreakable.

But today, at the Bird's Nest.

The Chinese team used a set of exchange techniques that he had never understood or seen before.

From the moment the baton is passed on.

That's exactly what happened based on their logic.

It's not faster.

The entire acceleration curve is higher.

It's not smoother.

It is a generation ahead in terms of fundamental principles.

Powell has run one of the most perfect fourth legs of his coaching career, chasing fiercely and fighting hard to cut a two-meter deficit to one meter.

But that last meter was like an insurmountable chasm.

I just can't get over it.

That's not a difference in physical fitness.

It's not a difference in talent.

It's a technological gap.

Mills slowly raised his head and looked at the red figures on the track.

There was no wild elation, no exaggerated celebration, just a peaceful embrace.

That composure stung him more than any roar.

They won unexpectedly, yet they won rightfully.

Because from the moment the baton exchange is completed between the third and fourth batons, the outcome is already decided by the technique.

He suddenly realized that the "perfect handover" he had pursued all his life was simply not enough at this moment.

Perfection is no longer the end goal.

A higher-dimensional start, faster acceleration, and a smoother process—that's the future.

Mills' lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but...

Can't say a word.

Admiration, shock, helplessness, sudden realization.

All my emotions were clenched in my chest.

In the end, it all turned into a very soft, very deep sigh.

The Jamaican era has come to an end.

Because this is the limit of what I can do as a coach.

This run gave me the feeling I wanted.

They even broke the 36-second barrier.

This was the limit of what he could do.

We can't win even with this.

There's nothing we can do.

Seeing this result, we still lost.

He had no choice but to accept it.

Francis, standing beside him, had long since frozen into a statue.

He's the coach who watched Powell grow up, and he knows where the fourth batter's bottom line and limit are.

Powell fired this shot without holding back.

His start, acceleration, and late-game comeback were all top-level performances of his career.

A time of 35.90 seconds would have been a sure thing for a gold medal in any year.

Before crossing the finish line, he was already mentally planning how to praise his teammates after the race.

It will light up after 35 seconds and 80 seconds.

Francis snapped his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, his eyes were filled with disbelief.

"35.90 seconds... They actually lost?"

The unspoken words echoed repeatedly in his mind.

He knew all too well what this meant.

Jamaica achieved an incredible time, but was completely overwhelmed by another team in an even more incredible way.

It wasn't by chance, it wasn't luck, it wasn't a mistake by the opponent.

It is based on the principles of handover, smooth startup, acceleration efficiency, overall posture, and all-round suppression.

Zhao Haohuan didn't even cross the line.

There was no diving, no leaning forward, no risky sprint to the finish line.

Just like that, easily and steadily, we crossed the finish line.

This composure sent chills down Francis's spine.

Powell pushed himself to the limit, but only managed to close the gap by one meter.

That last meter became an insurmountable distance.

That's not because Powell wasn't good enough.

What is their starting point is already their ceiling.

Francis slowly clenched his fist, then slowly relaxed it.

Anger, resentment, shock...

Several emotions mingled together, making him feel a tightness in his chest.

For the first time in his life, he realized so clearly:
The history of the 4×100 meter relay has been rewritten by the Chinese.

It's not about getting closer, it's not about chasing, it's about...

To surpass directly.

They ran within 36 seconds and thought they had it in the bag.

As a result, the opposing team ran a time of 35.80 seconds, a feat they never even dared to dream of.

Mills and Francis exchanged a glance.

Two renowned coaches who witnessed Jamaica's golden age.

At that moment, we both understood the emotions in each other's eyes.

Shocked.

I'm convinced.

as well as--

Complete surrender to the arrival of a new era.