MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.

Within that brief span, only a select few recruits managed to reach the summit of the mountain.

The training, however, was grueling, an immense trial that tested not only their physical prowess but also the application of all they had learned over the past eleven months.

Despite the overwhelming challenges, only a handful succeeded in conquering the peak.

Yet, even those few who reached the summit once found themselves unable to replicate the feat, faltering when attempting to climb it a second time.

Although the soldiers were bound to the limitations of the D- rank, their mastery over various aspect of combat was nothing short of extraordinary, far surpassing that of the recruits.

Their wealth of battle experience was another significant factor in their superiority.

Under these conditions, victory seemed unattainable.

This was precisely why the single-hit handicap had been introduced.

Yet, even with this advantage, many recruits still found themselves unable to surpass the soldiers.

And even if they did, a final soldier, restricted to the same D+ rank as the recruits, stood at the mountain's heel, awaiting their arrival to challenge them once more.

Unlike Anthony, who had been pitted against a soldier restricted to the SSS+ rank, the recruits faced soldiers who, though significantly weaker, remained exceptionally formidable.

The military, ever perceptive, tailored the training and trials based on the innate potential and abilities of each individual.

They knew that Anthony would effortlessly dominate a soldier bound by the limitations of the D+ rank.

His performance during the trial against the S+ demon, whose battle prowess exceeded that of an SS ranked fighter, had been an undeniable testament to his prowess.

Moreover, his battle experience against the Adaptive Combat Slime further solidified his unparalleled skill.

Thus, the military's adjustments were based on the wealth of data they had meticulously gathered about his capabilities, ensuring the trials were set to challenge him appropriately.

It was 7:00 AM.

The combat mountain climbing drill had ended the previous day, and now, with only two weeks remaining, Corporal Samuel was about to initiate the final phase of their training.

Will Training.

Corporal Samuel wasted no time, his voice cutting through the morning air.

"For the next two weeks, we will focus on training your willpower. I won't waste time explaining the benefits of this"

He said, pausing for a moment as his gaze swept across the group.

"You will endure an unimaginable amount of pain, far beyond anything you've ever experienced. You will wish for death to take you, but it will not come. Your only task is to endure"

His voice remained steady, cold, as he spoke of their grim challenge.

With a simple wave of his hand, a hundred seats materialized before them.

Chains adorned various parts of the seats, and a bottle containing a colorless liquid rested ominously on the armrest of each.

Anthony's mind immediately spiraled.

'Are we going to be tortured to death? Or electrocuted?'

The image of a barbaric punishment flashed through his mind, criminals from his former world sentenced to death, chained to a chair, and slowly fried alive.

It was a brutal, unforgiving form of execution.

His thoughts veered to those chilling scenes as his eyes locked onto the eerie sight of the seats, a grim foreboding creeping into his thoughts.

"The liquid before you is known as cursed water"

Corporal Samuel announced, his tone unwavering.

"It will subject you to an unimaginable level of pain. The torment will last only an hour, but in that time, you will feel as though an eternity has passed. After each hour, you will be granted two hours of rest. The pain will begin precisely one minute after you drink it. Do not use any skill or ability to endure it. This is a test of your willpower. Choose a seat"

With that, the recruits moved to claim their seats, each one steeling themselves for the ordeal ahead.

Anthony stepped forward, his eyes scanning the rows of chairs.

Without a moment's hesitation, he selected a random seat, the cursed water in his hand glinting ominously under the dim light.

He brought the bottle to his lips and drank it in one swift motion.

'OP system, deactivate Pain Nullification and Infinite Regeneration abilities'

He commanded inwardly, his voice steady despite the tension building inside him.

[Affirmative Host]

The system's response was immediate.

He settled into the chair, bracing himself.

The chains on the seat responded instantly, slithering toward him like a serpent, wrapping tightly around his limbs and torso, binding him in place.

His breathing slowed, his mind clearing as he focused on the trial ahead.

The other recruits moved forward, following suit.

They drank the cursed water without hesitation, their faces set with grim determination, their eyes filled with resolve as they prepared to face whatever pain awaited them head on.

A minute passed.

And in that minute, the pain was born.

It was slow at first, crawling across his body, wrapping itself around his ribs, his chest, his limbs, each wave of agony building like a tide that threatened to drown him.

It gripped him like iron, seizing his organs, forcing every muscle to contract, to seize in violent spasms that left him breathless, panting for air that the pain made impossible to take in.

His face twisted.

Not in a scream, no, Anthony had trained himself long ago to master the art of silence in the face of suffering.

Yet, the agony was undeniable.

His teeth ground against each other, as though the very act of biting down could somehow contain the ferocity of the torment that pulsed through him.

His body convulsed.

A terrible ripple of pain twisted through his spine, and his vision blurred for an instant as his heart hammered in his chest.

His mouth opened, but no sound escaped, only a strangled gasp that felt like it was torn from the very core of his being.

His hands, which had instinctively reached for his chest, trembled violently, his nails biting into his palms as if trying to hold onto something real in the face of the searing, twisting pain.

His muscles clenched, and he could feel them tightening and loosening in spasms, each wave of discomfort, of agony, causing him to sway dangerously in the seat that chained him.

But he did not scream.

He did not wail in anguish, though every fiber of his being begged him to do so.

The pain pressed in from every direction, sharp, hot, suffocating, dragging him to the brink of consciousness and back, but still, he did not stop.

He clenched his jaw tighter, his lips quivering as his chest heaved for air he could not take in.

The agony deepened. It wasn't just in his body anymore, it was through his body.

The pain reached deeper, like claws digging into the very marrow of his bones.

It settled in his joints, his spine, the places where flesh and bone intertwined.

His stomach twisted in on itself, nausea rising like a tidal wave that threatened to drown him.

His body betrayed him.

His legs, once strong and firm, trembled beneath him, their muscles locked in spasms, unable to support his weight.

The chair held him, chained to his suffering, but it was of little comfort.

His hands, slick with sweat, dug into the armrests, nails scraping against the wood, but nothing could distract him from the brutal, overwhelming pain that now had a grip on his very soul.

He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles cracked.

The sharp, sudden pain was a fleeting relief compared to the waves of suffering that curled up from within him.

His throat was raw, dry, the thirst unbearable, but he dared not stop to quench it.

That would mean giving in.

That would mean admitting defeat.

So, despite the unbearable thirst that clawed at his throat, he kept his mouth shut, swallowing nothing but the fire that raged inside him.

Minutes bled into each other, seconds stretching into infinite, unendurable tortures.

The pain began to crawl under his skin, writhing like something alive, filling him with a fire that burned from within and without.

His breath was shallow, desperate, his chest rising and falling with great effort, as though each inhale was a battle against the unbearable pressure crushing his ribs.

But the pain had not finished its work.

It spread like wildfire, starting from the core of his body, blossoming outward into every muscle, every tendon, every inch of skin.

His muscles screamed in protest, his bones ached as though they were being twisted in unnatural directions.

His heart thudded so hard, it seemed ready to tear itself free from his chest, the pulsing of blood becoming a violent drumbeat that threatened to drown him.

The heat was consuming him now, his body slick with sweat that evaporated in the blistering air, leaving his skin raw and parched.

His entire being felt as though it was on fire.

His eyes stung with the pressure of unshed tears, but he refused to give in to weakness.

He would not, could not, yield.

The pain in his body began to morph, changing its shape, bending his perceptions.

It was no longer just physical, it was something deeper, something more insidious.

It curled around his mind like an unseen hand, touching the very core of his being, his soul.

The pain reached inward, to places that were never meant to be touched, to the fragile threads of his consciousness.

And there, in the depths of his own mind, it dug in.

The sensation was unlike anything he had ever known, a cold fire, a bitter warmth that crawled through the edges of his thoughts, twisting them, warping them, until the very fabric of his sanity began to fray.

His breathing became erratic, shallow, as if the air itself was a foreign substance, something he could not breathe in.

His thoughts were scattered, fleeting, drifting in and out of focus like wisps of smoke.

But even as his mind began to unravel, Anthony did not stop.

His body was a broken vessel, his muscles failing him, his will barely able to hold on, yet he kept moving.

His gaze remained fixed ahead, though the world before him was nothing but a blur of burning light.

He could feel the chains biting into his wrists, but that was the least of his concerns.

His soul was being torn apart, each second stretching into a never ending abyss of suffering, each moment dragging him further into the dark chasm of agony.

The weight of his own thoughts pressed on him, as if his mind was buckling under the strain of the unrelenting pain.

He could feel his soul, fraying at the edges, withering under the torment that wrapped around it.

The agony was no longer just a sensation, it was a part of him, a cold, dark companion that had burrowed deep within his very essence.

It was as though it had become a part of his very being, inseparable and eternal.

A howl rose in his chest, a primal cry of desperation that threatened to break free, but he clamped down on it, biting his lips so hard that the taste of blood filled his mouth.

His teeth ground against each other, the sharp pain adding to the symphony of torment that filled him.

He could feel his body giving up, his limbs shaking violently, but still, he did not stop.

His spirit, his will, was all that kept him tethered to reality.

His body may have been on the edge of breaking, but his mind refused to let it fall.

Time ceased to be a measure of reality. Seconds stretched into hours, hours into days.

His body twisted, contorted, his skin raw and blistered, his muscles aching beyond measure.

His vision swam before him, each image distorted, as though the very air around him was pressing against him, suffocating him.

But still, Anthony did not stop.

The pain raked through him with each passing second, its claws deep within his soul now.

He felt as though he was being torn apart, piece by piece, but still, he did not scream.

His teeth bit deeper into his lip, the blood filling his mouth, but the pain was not enough to break him.

His body spasmed once more, his hands trembling as if they could no longer hold onto anything real.

His limbs ached, his body burned, but still, he pressed forward.

The seconds, the minutes, the hours, they all bled together.

The pain was constant, relentless.

It pressed against him from every direction, closing in on him, pushing him to the edge of his endurance.

His body felt like it was no longer his own, but he still did not stop.

And somewhere, deep inside him, amidst the crushing weight of the pain, the one thought that remained was simple.

'I will endure'

But even as the pain threatened to consume him entirely, Anthony's will remained unbroken.