Chapter 93

On the first day of the new year, the second floor of the startup park was bustling with activity.

Chen Yansen stood at the stairway entrance, handing out red envelopes to every FoxTao member who passed by.

“Humanity’s Torch +0.05!”

“Humanity’s Torch +0.05!”

“…”

System prompts flashed constantly before his eyes; Chen Yansen didn’t mind—after all, even a mosquito’s leg is meat.

“Wow! Thanks, class monitor! There’s a New Year red envelope too!” Xu Xingxing took the envelope with a beaming smile.

Chen Yansen smiled, waved his hand, said nothing, and moved on to hand out the next envelope.

By nine o’clock, only half the FoxTao staff had arrived; the other half had gone home for the holiday.

Suddenly, someone whispered that their salary had arrived, and immediately, a rustling sound spread as everyone bent over to check their phones.

“Humanity’s Torch +5.3!”

“Humanity’s Torch +3.9!”

“Humanity’s Torch +2.4!”

“…”

Watching the text messages flash, Chen Yansen silently thought, “Damn, that’s satisfying”—dozens of prompts appeared in seconds, and the Humanity’s Torch value on his panel surged from 31.7 to 96.

“System! Hold on!”

Chen Yansen was about to allocate points, but remembering past experiences, he forced himself to hold back, afraid of causing a commotion in the startup park.

He took a deep breath, steadied his mindset, and casually opened the team’s salary list.

He started with the customer service group: raising the hourly wage from 10 yuan to 12 yuan, increasing the editors’ monthly salary from 3,000 yuan to 4,000 yuan, and raising testing and design roles to 5,000 or 6,000 yuan.

The recruitment base salary was adjusted to 3,500 yuan.

The category team saw the biggest changes: their salaries jumped directly from 5,000 yuan to 6,000 or 7,000 yuan; senior category operators like Chen Xu and Hu Li saw their monthly pay skyrocket to 8,000 yuan.

Chen Yansen did this both to attract external hires and to balance the mindset of the category team employees.

Otherwise, seeing how recruitment could earn seven or eight thousand a month—or even forty or fifty thousand—no one would want to stay in category work.

Chen Yansen checked everything once more, confirmed no errors, and sent the table to Xu Dan to email each employee individually.

After finishing, he stood up and headed toward Room 0418.

Song Yuncheng glanced at Chen Yansen’s back, then stared at the newly arrived 39,000 yuan in his account, silent.

Ten minutes later.

Chen Yansen lay in the bedroom of 0418, staring at the ceiling, focusing his mind on his physique.

“System, allocate points!” Chen Yansen whispered.

A strand of white mist, as thick as chopsticks, appeared out of nowhere and forcibly drilled into his forehead; an icy chill surged through him, nearly freezing him solid.

Every tendon, bone, blood, and muscle in his body seemed to freeze, even his heart.

“Thump—thump—!”

A torrent of warmth, like a volcanic eruption, suddenly burst from his heart, galloping wildly through his body like a runaway horse; every inch of skin and flesh it swept over trembled.

Cold and heat alternated, followed by a soul-deep sense of bliss!

Chen Yansen couldn’t help but let out a soft groan—the strange sensation came fast and vanished just as quickly.

He felt as if hours had passed, but when he checked his phone, only three minutes had elapsed.

“So short?”

Chen Yansen was stunned.

He sat up, barefoot on the floor, stretched his limbs, clenched his fist lightly—and felt he could crush stone with ease.

This full-power sensation thrilled him more than hundreds of millions in wealth.

His physique stat was now 2.63!

Just one step away from the human limit!

Chen Yansen grabbed an unopened bottle of mineral water, walked into the bathroom, clenched it with all five fingers—the plastic bottle creaked under pressure, but the expected burst never came.

“Looks like my current strength can’t crush stone after all—earlier was just an illusion from the sudden surge.”

Chen Yansen sighed, tossed the water bottle aside listlessly.

He measured his height and weight—no significant change.

“Let’s try the gym.”

The thought surfaced and immediately refused to be suppressed.

Chen Yansen grabbed his coat, got in his car, and drove toward an off-campus gym.

The complimentary weekly pass he’d received last time had expired; the front desk staff had changed again—common enough, these bosses loved hiring cheap college students with high turnover.

Chen Yansen simply bought an annual membership—he’d give it to Wang Zihao later; no point letting it go to waste.

Walking into the gym, he saw only three people inside.

On New Year’s Day, those with partners had gone out, the studious were in the library, and those at the gym were probably all single.

As he thought this, he walked toward the barbell.

“Hey! I thought your name, Chen Yansen, sounded familiar—you’re the boss of FoxTao? Nice to meet you!”

Hu Yongfan, who had been working out his chest, immediately dropped his equipment and walked over smiling.

“Uh, hi.” Chen Yansen paused—he’d borrowed gear from this guy before, but he’d forgotten his name.

No help for it—Chen Yansen only remembered girls who were beautiful or had great figures.

“Deadlift?” Hu Yongfan asked.

“Yeah.” Chen Yansen doubted his orientation and didn’t feel like talking.

“I’ll load the weights for you!” Hu Yongfan acted as if he hadn’t seen Chen Yansen’s reluctance and got to work.

After a moment, he turned and asked: “Start with 140 kilograms?”

“220 kilograms.” Chen Yansen said calmly.

His physique had increased nearly 60%; if not for fear of startling Hu Yongfan, he’d have started at 300 kilograms.

“Holy shit! Awesome!” Hu Yongfan gave a thumbs-up, staring at Chen Yansen with eager eyes.

Seeing that look, Chen Yansen instinctively stepped back.

“Alright! I’ll get you a belt and knee pads.” Hu Yongfan stood and walked toward a nearby bench.

Chen Yansen grunted, stepped up to the barbell—five 20-kilogram plates on each side, plus the bar itself, totaled roughly the weight of three adults.

He glanced at Hu Yongfan, still rummaging for gear, then bent down and gripped the bar firmly with both hands.

“Lift!”

Chen Yansen grunted—the 400-plus kilogram weight felt weightless in his hands, effortlessly pulled past his knees.

Hearing the noise, Hu Yongfan turned and stared, jaw slack—220 kilograms raw deadlift without gear?

Is Chen Yansen’s body made of iron?

“Thud!” The barbell crashed heavily to the floor.

Chen Yansen savored the feeling—it was nothing special, just like his last 140-kilogram deadlift, even easier.

“Boss! Don’t go crazy! If the gym owner sees this, he’ll cancel your membership on the spot!”

Hu Yongfan, experienced in fitness, saw Chen Yansen weighed under 85 kilograms; last time he lifted 260 kilograms, he assumed Chen had a large frame, high density, and natural talent—but today’s raw deadlift truly shocked him.

“Thanks.” Chen Yansen took the belt and knee pads, put them on, and looked at the barbell on the floor.

After a moment’s thought, he added another 20 kilograms to each side—total weight: 340 kilograms.

“Boss, you’re kidding, right?” Hu Yongfan couldn’t believe it—professional athletes barely lift twice their body weight; three times was elite level.

Chen Yansen said nothing, gripped the bar, adjusted his form—he searched for the most comfortable point of force, a feeling he couldn’t explain, as if he’d always known it.

Chen Yansen said nothing, gripped the bar, and adjusted the fine details of his motion, searching for the most comfortable point of force application—a feeling he couldn’t explain, as if he’d innate mastery.

Chen Yansen’s arms bulged with veins, blood surging through them; his upper body, lower body, and back muscles fired simultaneously.

From afar, the nearly 700-kilogram load rose without a single pause.

“Holy shit—is this even human?” Hu Yongfan swallowed hard, murmured under his breath.

Lifting four times his own body weight—terrifying!

Pulling four times his own body weight—too terrifying!

The floor emitted a dull, heavy impact.

Chen Yansen’s face didn’t flush, his heart didn’t race; he shook his wrists, still feeling plenty of reserve.

Chen Yansen’s face didn’t flush, his heart didn’t race; he shook his wrists, feeling he still had plenty of strength left.

The barbell weight surpassed 380 kilograms!

Chen Yansen kept his grip, but now he clearly struggled—veins bulged on his forehead, yet his form remained fluid, clearly not at his limit.

When he added the barbell to 420 kilograms, Hu Yongfan finally snapped out of his shock and pulled out his phone to record.

“Bro, put your phone away.”

Chen Yansen waved him off.

Normally, Hu Yongfan might’ve ignored him—but facing Chen Yansen, he didn’t dare utter a word, laughing nervously as he stuffed his phone back in his bag.

He knew clearly: Chen Yansen could punch him to death several times over.

“Creak—creak—!”

The bar bent under the pressure of the plates, groaning loudly.

The barbell bar groaned and bent into an arc under the weight of the plates.

Chen Yansen timed his exertion perfectly; his tendons and bones snapped taut, and the 800-plus jin weight strained him.

Blood surged through him; his arms, thighs, and face flushed red, muscles re-engorged with blood, their textures clearly visible.

Chen Yansen felt a searing heat trapped in his chest; he erupted with force and barely lifted the barbell.

“Thud!”

Chen Yansen released the bar, exhaling thick clouds of white vapor, his forehead flushed crimson, gasping heavily—he was clearly exhausted.

“Boss Chen, with this level, you could crush every power competition in China—you’re insane!”

Hu Yongfan, seeing him stop, made no move to add more weight and quickly handed him a bottle of mineral water, praising him.

“I don’t have time for competitions. No matter how strong I get, times have changed—money makes you the boss.”

Chen Yansen sneered, took the water, secretly checked the cap, found no issue, then drank deeply.

“Hey! I forgot you’re the boss of FoxTao. With your money-making skills, you really don’t need to train that hard.”

Hu Yongfan flexed his pectorals and grinned.

“By the way, how do you train your strength? What supplements do you use? I heard the Lamp Nation has some new stuff—amazing results.” Before Chen Yansen could answer, Hu Yongfan kept going.

“Born with it.” Chen Yansen smirked, arrogant.

He didn’t care whether Hu Yongfan believed him.

Hu Yongfan smiled, saying nothing outwardly, but internally ranted, labeling Chen Yansen as a “tech warrior.”

Last time he deadlifted 260 kg; now, just a month later, he’d raised it to 420 kg.

Honestly, Hu Yongfan wanted to ask what drugs Chen Yansen was taking—he wanted to try them too.

“Uh, Boss Chen, I actually sent my resume to your company for the Business Development role. What do you think of me?” Hu Yongfan asked, smiling across from Chen Yansen.

“Communication skills are fine. We’ll talk after the first interview.” Chen Yansen replied offhandedly.

He hadn’t figured out this guy’s orientation yet—if he brought him into the project team, Zhang Wenbo and Xiang Pengfei would be in trouble; both were clean-cut, gentle types, exactly what these muscular guys liked.

“Boss Chen, how about I bring my girlfriend to the next interview?” Hu Yongfan suggested helplessly.

Chen Yansen’s suspicion was too obvious; Hu Yongfan had no way to explain—he even wished he could drag Chen Yansen along when he went to a hotel with his girlfriend.

“Fine.” Considering Hu Yongfan had lent him equipment twice, Chen Yansen couldn’t keep refusing.

“...” Hu Yongfan’s face froze; he sighed inwardly: Prejudice in people’s hearts is a mountain—I may have big muscles, but that doesn’t mean I’m weird.

On the other side.

FoxTao employees who received their salary adjustment emails were overjoyed; many were still in their third or fourth year of college, and with monthly pre-tax incomes above 8,000 yuan, they wanted to treat the company like home and Chen Yansen like a father.

The Business Development team’s joy ran even deeper; their group of ten or so had salaries ranging from 7,000–8,000 yuan to over 50,000 yuan.

In 2010, this income crushed over 95% of white-collar workers.

Suddenly, everyone was fired up—even without overtime pay, they worked from dawn till dusk, either visiting unfamiliar merchants or negotiating product selections.

The variety, brands, and product depth of SuperReturn began soaring dramatically; after all, every brand that launched meant thousands in commission—who wouldn’t be tempted?

Chen Yansen left the gym and wandered to the sports field.

He tested his 100-meter sprint, 10,000-meter endurance, and reaction speed; the result: he was the combined essence of Bolt, Anthony (fastest reaction), and Devon (endurance king).

In single categories, he was slightly weaker; combined, he could obliterate all three.

“Buzzzz—”

Chen Yansen pulled out his phone—it was Zhang Jiancheng from Thinking Capital again. After a moment’s thought, he answered.

(End of Chapter)