The Su God of the Reopening of the Sports Arena

Chapter 2568 may be time to bring this to a close.
No one expected such a result.

Bolt was completely stunned when he saw this result.

He also ran 9.40 seconds after firing that shot.

It was the same match where he broke through alongside Su Shen, but because Su Shen broke through first and ranked higher, his breakthrough began to lose its luster.

Before 9.37 seconds, there was 9.39 seconds...

It seems a bit unattractive.

There's no way around it; humans are animals that will always chase after the champion.

You're ranked second; you can only be called a tragic hero.

Tragic heroes are still heroes, but they are no match for true heroes.

Not enough.

On the Mexican high-altitude track, before the afterglow of speed had faded, the numbers on the electronic timing board suddenly lit up—9.37 seconds.

Suarez's name is firmly at the top of the list, followed closely by Bolt's 9.39 seconds.

This special match will only feature two names.

It's either first or second.

It's either victory or defeat.

It doesn't matter whether you've also turned on 9.40 seconds or not.

Two numbers pierced the biting wind of the plateau, striking every corner of the stadium. The entire stadium was initially deathly silent, with even the sound of the wind whistling through the stands clearly audible.

In less than half a second, a deafening roar erupted.

The sound seemed to shake even the mountains of Mo City.

The spectators in the stands suddenly jumped up from their seats, waving their national flags wildly.

Red waves surged in the stands.

Someone pounded on the railing, shouting until their throat was hoarse.

In the thin air of the plateau, he shouted Su Shen's name with all his might.

Super Program has emerged, and this is an achievement.

It is highly unlikely that it will be replicated.

This is unlikely to happen again in this century.

It's been at least half a century.

All of them will be etched with Su Shen's speed.

His name is synonymous with speed.

The coaching team rushed out from the side of the track. Several men, their eyes red, hugged each other, pounding the ground and wiping their eyes. It was... the excitement they had been holding back for too long.

Breaking human limits on the high-altitude track is more exhilarating than ever.

The other 100-meter teams who had come to watch the race also stood there in a daze, subconsciously rubbing their eyes, checking the numbers on the timing board, their faces filled with disbelief.

The people in front of the television also had the same surprised expression.

No matter how big a company you are.

After seeing this result.

They will no longer have the slightest desire to fight.

The 9.60+ range is considered top-tier, a dominant force in any previous Olympics.

But against these two lightning-fast players.

However, it can be easily pulled three meters apart.

This is simply a case of overwhelming force.

Guy paused for a moment, then twisted off the bottle cap, letting go of his obsession, and felt that it wasn't so bad for him to back down.

Of course, he could compete if he were asked to, but he had completely lost the will to continue. Getting some rest was the best thing for him.

This era no longer belongs to him.

After Gatlin saw it, he couldn't move his fingers for a long time, which further strengthened his belief in wading into the 200-meter muddy water.

The 100-meter dash is terrifying; it's not something I can handle.

Powell watched, feeling that he had been born at the wrong time.

Perhaps I missed the best chances to win a gold medal.

He could have won a major championship before Bolt's breakout year in 08, but he lost to Gay in those years.

Some things, once missed, are gone forever.

I won't let you start over.

Back then, 9.7 seconds was a world record, but now, in the eyes of the spoiled public, it's just the result of an average expert.

They were even at the bottom in the finals of major competitions.

Blake stared at the result, remaining motionless for a long time. But at least he had the extraordinary talent for the 200 meters. This led him to believe that if he couldn't run the 100 meters, he could improve in the 200 meters.

At least it won't break through your defenses too much.

He couldn't outrun those two in 100 meters anyway, could he?
Now it's better to help him understand himself better.

As another top-level member, Zhao Haohuan felt as if he had caught up with a new era.

In the past 10 years, the entire speed racing scene has undergone tremendous changes.

No one is incapable of winning, and no one is incapable of losing.

I have reached my current position through breakthroughs step by step.

However, I was also fortunate enough to witness a lightning-fast duel.

He became part of the historical witness.

He also became a witness to the entire rise of Red Lightning.

After all, he started at Xiangshan Sports School.

I've been training with Su Shen the whole time.

This guy put in the effort.

What technical adjustments and innovations were made?

What pressures did we withstand, and what path must we take?
He knew everything perfectly well.

Therefore, there was no jealousy or envy.

All I want to do is applaud.

This man, who led himself out of darkness, led Chinese athletics out of darkness, and led Chinese sprinting out of darkness...

applaud.

Holding the microphone, Yang Jian staggered towards Su Shen, his movements so fast that even the camera could barely keep up with him.

His voice was no longer the steady, professional tone of a broadcaster; it was trembling and choked with emotion, and he could barely speak.

His hand, gripping the microphone tightly, turned red from the effort: "9.37 seconds! Brothers, 9.37 seconds!"

"Mo City Plateau, Su Shen!"

"Susan has broken the 9.40-second barrier! He has set a new limit for human sprinting!"

He practically roared the last words; the static from the microphone couldn't drown out his excitement. His eyes instantly reddened, and his vision blurred with tears. He had been a sprint commentator for many years and had witnessed countless miracles, but he had never seen such a breathtaking breakthrough on the high-altitude track.

At that moment, he forgot all the broadcasting procedures.

All I wanted to do was share this ultimate joy with everyone watching on the screen.

Bolt was standing by the track, his back slightly hunched, his hands on his knees, panting heavily. The high altitude made his breathing more rapid than usual, and his chest heaved violently.

He looked up and his gaze fell on the two numbers on the electronic timing board: 9.39 seconds. This result should have been something he could be proud of—he had also broken the 9.40-second barrier, which was an exceptional performance on the Mo City plateau.

But those 9.37 seconds ahead, that 0.02-second difference, were like a very thin but clear line, drawing the line between victory and defeat.

call------

After a long while, he let out a heavy sigh.

It broke the daze I had when looking at my grades.

There was no disappointment or resentment in his eyes, only the recognition of one strong person by another.

A slow smile even appeared at the corner of his mouth, a smile that contained relief and admiration.

There was also a hint of mutual respect and admiration between heroes.

He had given it his all in this match.

It wasn't Su Shen who made him who he is.

He is the one who made Su Shen.

No one is wronged by winning.

Neither of them is wronged.

They have all become part of history.

Bolt straightened up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked in the direction of Su Shen.

That figure, surrounded by the crowd, became a new benchmark for speed under the plateau sun.

Bolt knew he had given it his all, pushing his limits to new heights on this oxygen-deprived track.

But in the end, a stronger opponent emerged, standing in a higher position.

He gently shook his head, smiled, and slowly raised his hand towards Su Shen, giving a thumbs-up.

This is a tribute to the sprinter.

Dedicated to Su Shen, who created new miracles on the plateau.

Su Shen watched as he and Bolt had been entangled for so many years.

From chasing, to fighting, and then to overtaking.

The two are also destined rivals who admire each other.

Now the battle is finally over. Some even smiled.

A relieved smile.

He nodded at Bolt in a manly manner.

He expressed that he had received Bolt's praise.

Because if I lose this match.

He would do the same.

The two men brought the contest of human speed to its ultimate climax.

Now, two people will personally compete in this speed showdown.

Put a period to it.

Surrounded by his coach and team members in the center of the track, Su Shen's dark red racing suit was already soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to his body and outlining the taut muscle lines even after the fascia chain exerted force.

He was slightly hunched over, his hands resting on his knees as he gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently. Each breath carried the coolness of the high-altitude air, yet also burned his throat.

Sweat dripped down his jawline, splashing onto the rubber track and leaving small wet patches, but a bright fire burned in his eyes.

That was the ecstasy of breaking through the limits.

It is the burning passion that stands at the pinnacle of human speed.

Finally, I stood at the pinnacle of speed.

This time it's reopening.

I didn't let you down.

Reporters around him, armed with cameras and microphones, jostled to get closer, shoving microphones at his mouth and raining down questions.

But Su Shen only felt a buzzing in his ears at this moment, and all sounds became a blurry background. In his world, there was still the tremor of the seventh fascial chain being completely released during the last meter of sprint.

And the moment of crossing the finish line.

The sound of wind cutting through the softness of my cheek.

Just then, a tall figure slowly walked out from the gap in the crowd.

Bolt pushed through the layers of reporters, his yellow and green racing suit also soaked with sweat, his signature long legs striding with steady steps, unlike the lightning-fast sprinter he usually is on the track.

At this moment, he was less flamboyant and more composed in accepting what was happening.

The reporters, who were initially scrambling to ask questions, fell silent for a moment when they saw Bolt approaching, before erupting into an even more enthusiastic commotion. The sound of camera shutters suddenly increased, and all the lenses were pointed at the two men standing at the pinnacle of human sprinting.

Everyone knew that this would be the most precious moment of the event.

Bolt ignored the microphones thrust at him and the reporters' eager shouts, his gaze sweeping through the crowd.

It landed directly on Su Shen.

In those eyes, there was no sense of defeat, no resentment, only pure recognition and admiration.

He approached step by step, the rubber track beneath his feet making a slight sound, which, amidst the noisy stadium, seemed to resonate in everyone's hearts.

It was as if it had struck his own heart.

The coach and team members instinctively made way for them, allowing the two legends a moment of solitude.

Su Shen heard the commotion beside him, looked up, and met Bolt's gaze.

The moment their eyes met, the noise of the arena seemed to be silenced.

The wind on the plateau gently blew by, carrying the same scent of sweat from the two men, and the passion and glory of the racetrack.

Su Shen straightened up, wiped the sweat from his face, and a hearty smile unconsciously appeared on his lips—a smile of mutual respect between two strong individuals.

It has nothing to do with winning or losing.

All for this all-out battle.

Bolt walked up to Suarez and stopped.

He was more than half a head taller than Su Shen. He looked down slightly at the yellow-skinned man who had created a miracle on the plateau, his eyes filled with smiles. He reached out and gently patted Su Shen's shoulder.

It was as if the identities of competitors and adversaries had been severed.

The role of friend has once again taken center stage.

The warmth of his palms seeped through his soaked racing suit, carrying a sincere power.

His voice was deep and magnetic, cutting through the cacophony of sounds to reach Su Shen's ears clearly; every word carried a solemn tone.

"Congratulations, Su, you won."

A simple sentence, yet it carries immense weight.

This is recognition from a world-renowned sprint legend, the most candid congratulations from a loser to a winner.

On the Mexican plateau, on this land that is not typically suited for creating speed miracles, Bolt gave it his all, pushing his limits to 9.39 seconds and breaking the 9.40-second barrier. This was an achievement he could be proud of for a lifetime, but compared to Suarez's 9.37 seconds...

He accepted the 0.02-second difference with equanimity.

They accepted the outcome of the match.

Su Shen felt the pressure on his shoulder and smiled when he saw the sincerity in Bolt's eyes.

He also reached out and shook Bolt's hand.

Their hands were clasped tightly together.

This handshake encapsulates the pinnacle of human sprinting history.

He has experienced the passion and warmth of countless matches on the field.

This is a lightning-fast duel.

It is the greatest sporting spectacle that God left to mankind in the 21st century.

Su Shen's voice was hoarse from running, but still cheerful. He looked at Bolt and said with a smile:

"Usain, we both gave it our all in this match. I'll be waiting for you to challenge me again at the Rio Olympics."

His words were filled with anticipation and a longing for the next showdown.

In Suarez's heart, Bolt will always be the strongest opponent. It is because of such an opponent that he can break through his limits time and time again and challenge the ceiling of human speed.

He looks forward to the Rio Olympics, hoping to stand on the same starting line as Bolt once again.

Once again, a showdown of ultimate speed will unfold.

Upon hearing Su Shen's words, Bolt's smile faltered slightly. Looking at the expectation in Su Shen's eyes, he slowly shook his head.

The movement was very light, but it made Su Shen's heart skip a beat. He seemed to have sensed something, and the smile in his eyes faded a little.

His gaze was fixed on Bolt's face, trying to find the answer in his eyes.

Bolt's gaze remained gentle, but within that gentleness lay a hint of melancholy and relief that others could not comprehend.

He lowered his head slightly, leaned close to Su Shen's ear, and whispered something in a volume that only the two of them could hear.

His voice was very soft, as if carried by the wind of the plateau, with a slight, barely perceptible hoarseness.

Every word seemed to be infused with a myriad of emotions.

There is reluctance and regret.

And... a lingering attachment to the competition.

Su Shen tilted his head slightly, trying to hear what Bolt was saying, but at that moment, the surrounding reporters finally couldn't hold back any longer.

They had waited too long to capture a conversation between the two legends and to get firsthand interview material. Now, seeing the two talking in hushed tones, they could no longer maintain their patience.

Countless reporters surged forward like a tide, instantly surrounding the two. Microphones were thrust at their mouths from all directions, and the camera flashes were so bright they made it impossible to open one's eyes.

A barrage of questions and shouts exploded in my ears.

"Su, how are you feeling right now?"

"Bolt, are you satisfied with your time of 9.39 seconds?"

"Will your next showdown be at the Rio Olympics?"

"Bolt, what did you just say to Su Shen?"

The cacophony of sounds instantly engulfed everything, like a sudden tsunami, completely drowning out Bolt's soft words.

Su Shen felt a deafening roar in his ears, Bolt's voice was covered by layers of noise, those understated words.

Like willow catkins in the wind, they drifted to his ear.

But it vanished in an instant.

He tried his best to listen, but could only catch a few vague syllables, and could not piece together a complete sentence at all.

He instinctively wanted to ask more questions and looked up at Bolt, but Bolt was already surrounded by reporters' microphones and cameras.

Bolt straightened up, his signature slightly arrogant smile returning to his face, though a hint of melancholy lingered beneath the surface.

He waved to the reporters around him, took one of the microphones, and then said softly, "Please give the time to the winner."

"Let me have some peace and quiet."

After he finished speaking, he was surrounded by reporters.

He forced his way through and walked out.

Su Shen stood there, his hand still warm from his handshake with Bolt.

The faint whisper still echoed in my ears.

But my heart felt like it had been gently tugged by something.

He watched Bolt disappear, surrounded by reporters!
Looking at that still dazzling yellow-green battle suit.

Bolt's head shake and those few words that were drowned out kept replaying in my mind.

He didn't know what Bolt said—was it a rejection of the Rio Olympics, or a farewell to the competition?

Is it a reflection on the game, or a blessing for each other?

But soon.

He then got the answer.

The whole world has found the answer.

A message.

It shocked the sports world.