The Power of Knowledge

The human anatomy course was rather hardcore, as it was part of the clinical medicine curriculum at Jiang University. All the students were enrolled in the eight-year 5+3 medical program, and the sheer number of anatomical terms—many of which Chen Jue had never even heard before in daily life—was staggering. Just glancing at the list of 639 skeletal muscles, densely packed with both English and Chinese terms, made his head ache. This was far more challenging than his previous work in risk management.

After enduring more than half the class, Chen Jue couldn't help but yawn, unsure if the sluggishness was due to his post-lunch circadian dip. He instinctively felt drowsy and resorted to massaging his ears to jolt himself awake. Yet, observing the freshmen around him, who seemed thoroughly engaged and happy, he couldn't help but feel he was born to be an underachiever.

"No wonder these people are strong enough to get into Jiang University," Chen Jue mused. "Do they really memorize all these terms so effortlessly?" He glanced around at the male students with their thick heads of hair, thinking that by the time they completed eight years, more than half would probably be bald. “Once I’m bald, I’ll be strong too. The hairstyle of the strong, fit for you all!”

After the first class of the afternoon, Chen Jue hurriedly grabbed his small bag and rushed to another building. The only trouble with this cross-disciplinary study was the constant back-and-forth. Each department had its own building—physical education was all the way by the track—and the sports training course was the one Chen Jue cared about most. He absolutely didn’t want to be late.

It had only been three weeks since he obtained his system panel, so he was still at the early stages of his training, lacking professional guidance or systematic practice. Compared to the previous two lectures, the sports training course aligned much more closely with the improvement plan he’d drafted for himself.

But the moment he entered the PE classroom, Chen Jue felt scrutinizing gazes from every direction. Not only was the PE instructor on stage eyeing him, but even the relatively few students in the class were all staring.

"Damn," he thought, "why does this atmosphere feel so off?"

He took a deep breath, reported to the tall, muscular instructor that he was auditing the class, and quickly retreated to a seat in the corner. After chatting with a brawny classmate nearby, Chen Jue learned the peculiar nature of the PE major here: all the students were athletic recruits. Out of the forty-some students in the class, only a handful were second-level athletes; the rest were first-level athletes or even national-level competitors. In other words, anyone in this class could win medals at meets, and some could even compete for gold and silver at national games. For an ordinary person like himself to audit the class was certainly conspicuous.

But since he was already here, he resolved to put aside his pride and learn anyway.

They were all nineteen or twenty, and even if they were athletes, Chen Jue felt no inferiority. "Today we'll discuss how to train efficiently and set personal training plans," the instructor announced, "please turn to page..." But as this PE instructor droned on, his teaching was lackluster compared to the previous professors. The slides seemed hastily prepared and were mostly copied straight from the textbook. Chen Jue soon found himself nodding off again.

He had hoped to glean useful knowledge from this course to refine his "Strongest Human Training Plan v1.00," but to his disappointment, the class fell flat. "These instructors are probably athletes themselves, not used to theoretical teaching," Chen Jue thought, noticing that many students seemed just as disinterested as he was. Only a few were pretending to take notes, likely just to pass the upcoming exam.

Resigned, Chen Jue pulled out his grip strengthener, spinning a pen in one hand and squeezing the device with the other to build hand strength. His [Physique] attribute was improving quickly—his hand endurance was far better than before. Back when he worked at Hengtong, he could only use the grip strengthener for about an hour a day, but now at Jiang University, he aimed to stretch that time further.

He’d barely been at it ten minutes when the burly student beside him leaned over. "Senior, my name’s Ma Qiang. Can I try that? My hands are itching for action!"

Glancing at Ma Qiang’s muscular arms, Chen Jue handed him the grip strengthener. The long, continuous desks in the university classroom, with chairbacks in the row ahead, allowed students to play on their phones without fear of being caught—unless their glasses reflected the screen.

Ma Qiang tested the strengthener a few times. Though he could compress the 50kg setting with ease, his hand quickly tired after several repetitions. After two minutes, he returned it, curiosity plain on his face. "Senior, what sport do you train in? Your grip endurance is impressive! You’ve been at it for ages without switching hands, and I’m already exhausted after just a few reps."

"What sport?" Chen Jue hesitated, then replied quietly, "Darts and throwing weapons… I guess it counts as traditional martial arts." He realized Ma Qiang had mistaken him for another athletic major and decided not to correct him.

"I’m on the swim team," Ma Qiang chuckled sheepishly. "No way my grip matches yours."

At this point, the instructor apparently realized the futility of lecturing on theory to a room full of athletes, whose real talents lay on the field, not in absorbing abstract concepts. He quickly finished the slides and assigned on-the-spot exercises and Q&A, inviting students to share their training questions.

Noticing the commotion over by Ma Qiang, the instructor called on him first. "Mr. Sun, my training’s been going well lately, and my results are up. No questions for now," Ma Qiang replied, a little sheepish. University classes were generally more relaxed than high school—no threats of being made to stand as punishment.

Seeing Ma Qiang offered nothing, the instructor, Sun, pointed at Chen Jue. "And you, the new auditor—any sports questions on your mind?"

Caught off-guard, Chen Jue glanced at the lethargic class and an idea flashed through his mind. "Professor Sun, I do have a question that’s been bothering me for a long time. But it’s a bit complicated to explain—I’ll need to write it on the board."

Sun's interest was piqued and he waved Chen Jue up to the front. After all, with half the class fiddling with their phones, a little excitement was welcome.

Chen Jue smiled, picked up a piece of chalk, and drew the trapezoidal gold brick model on the board. He then borrowed Professor Sun’s computer and played a viral video of the "gold brick challenge" for the whole class.

The lively, playful challenge instantly broke the classroom’s monotony.

"Professor Sun, I’m a bit of a slacker with poor grades," Chen Jue confessed. "But I want to know: just how much grip strength does it actually take to pick up this gold brick?"

This challenge was the first major goal in his "Strongest Human Plan v1.00," and his hope for his first real windfall. Every day he trained to improve his grip and pulling strength with grip strengtheners and pull-ups, but he also wanted to calculate, scientifically, the minimum grip force needed to lift the gold brick.

If he could determine the threshold, his training would finally have a clear target.

Unfortunately, Chen Jue had long since forgotten what little physics he’d learned in school. But now, at this top university, surrounded by outstanding teachers and students, he was sure they could work out the answer together.

"That's an excellent question!" Professor Sun praised. "If any of you are interested, try solving it yourselves."

Professor Sun examined the board, noting the gold brick’s 25kg weight and the nylon glove in the video. He then chalked a few data points on the board.

"We don’t know the exact coefficient of friction for that nylon glove, but gold bars or bricks have a surface friction coefficient of about 0.2," he explained. "Let’s call the glove-to-gold friction coefficient 'u.' Assume you need just enough grip strength to lift it, and given the trapezoidal gold brick’s 80-degree angle, we can set up the equation: uNsin80° = mg."

“Since the glove looks slick, the coefficient 'u' should be even less than gold's, maybe half—let’s estimate 0.1.”

"Solving this, mg = 25 x 9.8 = 245N, so the required grip force N = mg / (u sin 80°) ≈ 2487N."

"That’s roughly 254kg of grip strength needed to lift the gold brick!"

The moment the formula was written, the whole class was stunned—even Chen Jue was speechless.

"Professor Sun is incredible! He did it all in his head!"

"He’s wasted here in the PE department, should be teaching physics instead!"

"254 kilograms of grip strength? My god, what a gold brick scam!"

"Looks like the world record for grip strength is only about 192kg. You’d need a mechanical arm with hydraulic assist to lift that thing!"