Ma Hongjun looked at Dai Mubai in surprise. "Boss Dai, you're still going?"
Dai Mubai puffed out his chest. "Fatty, remember — a man never says he can't. Hand them over."
While Dai Mubai was loading the stones from Ma Hongjun's back into his own bamboo basket, Tang San had also made his way over to Zhu Zhuqing. Although he didn't quite understand why Dai Mubai wasn't helping Zhu Zhuqing carry her load instead, his physical condition was roughly the same as Dai Mubai's right now — and Zhu Zhuqing, despite not saying a word about it, was clearly exhausted as well.
"Let me help you, Zhu Zhuqing." Tang San reached toward the bamboo basket on her back.
Zhu Zhuqing twisted sideways, dodging his hand. "No need. I can keep going. You have to run two more laps than any of us, and you've already burned through so much energy. How are you going to hold out in the end?"
Tang San froze for a moment, staring at her. He suddenly realized — she didn't seem quite as cold as he had thought.
The march resumed. This time, everyone slowed their pace even further. Though Dai Mubai didn't utter a single word, it was plain to see that his steps had grown far heavier, and the sweat he left behind with each stride was the most of anyone among the seven. The weight Fatty had dumped on him was ten kilograms. Adding that to an already depleted body brought his total load up to thirty kilograms, and the toll on his stamina was enormous.
When the eighth round-trip was complete, the Great Master handed them warm salt water and made a deliberate point of glancing at the bamboo baskets on everyone's backs — but said nothing.
The ninth round-trip continued. Even without extra weight, Oscar and Ning Rongrong had been pushed nearly to their limits. Ma Hongjun had recovered somewhat, and Xiao Wu was still holding on, but Zhu Zhuqing's pace was growing slower by the moment. Tang San, on the other hand, seemed to have gritted his teeth and pushed past his own limit — at least on the surface, he showed no sign of hitting a wall.
With Sotuo City now in sight and the ninth round-trip about to hit the halfway mark, Dai Mubai suddenly stumbled, his whole body pitching forward.
In better times, Dai Mubai could have snapped upright with a single flex — but right now his energy was far too spent.
Tang San had been keeping pace right beside him. Seeing him about to fall, he surged forward in a single step and caught him by the shoulder.
Dai Mubai's heterochromatic eyes had merged into one — a sign Tang San had seen before when they encountered danger. It was an indication that he had reached his absolute limit.
Dai Mubai couldn't steady himself. He leaned his entire weight against Tang San's shoulder, his chest heaving like a bellows, looking dangerously close to dehydration.
"Boss Dai, are you okay?" Everyone hurried over, their voices full of concern.
Tang San said nothing. He simply reached into Dai Mubai's basket, pulled out the heaviest stone — fifteen kilograms — and placed it into his own.
"Xiao San, no — I can still keep going." Dai Mubai forced himself upright, a look of steely determination burning in his eyes as he met Tang San's gaze. "You endured the pain of that Human-Faced Demon Spider Soul Ring — something far worse than this. Why can't I push through? I can do it. Brothers, we have to hold on. Nobody falls behind."
As he spoke, Dai Mubai wrenched his fifteen-kilogram stone back out of Tang San's basket and returned it to his own.
"Boss Dai. Give me mine back." Ma Hongjun spoke up suddenly. With only a round-trip and a half left before the punishment was over, everyone knew that carrying thirty kilograms, Dai Mubai would never make it.
Ning Rongrong suddenly stepped forward. "Mine too. I'm feeling much better now — I can carry my own load."
Tang San said, "Rongrong, leave yours. Fatty, just hang in there a little longer."
With Ma Hongjun's original load back on his own shoulders, Dai Mubai was relieved of ten kilograms. And after Tang San's repeated insistence, the five-kilogram stone from Ning Rongrong was also transferred from Dai Mubai's basket into his own, bringing Tang San's total burden up to twenty-five kilograms.
The march went on. Every single step was agony. But with fifteen kilograms stripped away, Dai Mubai relied on nothing but sheer willpower to drag himself forward.
The ninth round-trip was completed only through the group's mutual support. Though they were still technically running, in reality they were barely faster than a walk. From the start of the punishment to now, a full six hours had passed.
They gulped down salt water in great mouthfuls, all seven of them looking as though they had been fished out of a lake. The Great Master still stood off to the side, silent as ever.
Dai Mubai summoned every last drop of resolve he had. "Brothers — one more round. Everyone, hold on."
Oscar suddenly spoke up. "Xiao San, give me back my load. There's only one round-trip left. I can manage."
Tang San blinked, surprised. He noticed that something in Oscar's eyes had changed — something new was there. But looking at his legs, which were trembling uncontrollably, Tang San shook his head. "No. I can still handle it."
Oscar walked over to Tang San, sweat dripping steadily from his face. But his gaze had turned hard and unwavering. "If you consider me a brother, give it back. I can do it."