Unholy Player-Chapter 99: Power Ranking (Part 2)

"Now, Mr. Adyr, we will start at -10 degrees. You should begin to feel the drop in temperature now," Corven said.

Adyr felt a cooling breeze brush across his still-warm skin, relaxing his tense muscles. It was almost pleasant, like sipping a cold beer under the sun on a beach.

"Any discomfort, Mr. Adyr?" Corven asked, following protocol.

"Nope," Adyr replied.

"Nice. Now proceeding to -20."

At this level, a normal human would already begin to lose sensation in their ears and limbs. Hypothermia would set in, motor functions would slow, and the hands would lose usability.

Adyr, however, noticed only a slight hardening on the surface of his skin. The cold in his breath was sharper, but nothing beyond that.

"-30," Corven continued.

This was the stage where frostbite would begin forming on a normal body—cells dying, skin freezing.

In Adyr’s case, changes finally began. Micro-spasms ran through his muscle fibers, and a faint sting grew in his fingertips. But his range of motion remained intact.

"-40."

This level posed a serious risk of death for ordinary people. Adyr, still functioning without hesitation, gave Corven a nod to proceed.

"-60."

Now deep into lethal territory for any human, Adyr’s skin had turned a pale gray. His fingertips and ears showed signs of early-stage frostbite, and his joints had begun to stiffen. Still, it was tolerable.

"-80."

The transformation became harder to ignore. With the support of his [Will] stat, Adyr could sense the internal damage. Subdermal tissues were cracking, and micro-tears spread through his muscle fibers. His movements had grown sluggish, but he wasn’t done yet.

This wasn’t his limit.

"-100," Corven announced.

Here, Adyr finally recognized the boundary. His respiratory passages had iced over. Every breath scraped down his throat like frozen glass. The pain was sharp, undeniable. A warning.

His organs were entering shock. Control over his movements was slipping, inch by inch.

His cognitive functions had slowed. Thoughts came slower, less defined. Muscle contractions no longer followed intention—they were survival-driven, instinctive.

"Thank you, Mr. Adyr. I’m returning the temperature to normal now," Corven said, his voice hoarse.

The researchers stood frozen behind the glass, wide-eyed and silent.

"Congratulations, Mr. Adyr. If by some chance you ever end up in the coldest place on Earth... you might survive it. Completely naked," Corven muttered, still stunned by the reality in front of him.

"I believe I might have to face even colder places in the other world," Adyr said with a faint smile. From what he had gathered so far, that world was vast—beyond comprehension—and filled with things that defied logic. Extreme heat or cold was likely the least of them.

Corven and the others smiled bitterly. They were already well aware of the conditions players had to survive under. None of them could be considered merely human or ordinary mutants anymore. Each had begun evolving into survival-driven machines, adapting to every impossible situation thrown at them.

"Now, Mr. Adyr, in five minutes we will begin the gravity test," Corven’s voice echoed through the speaker.

In the meantime, a few more white-coated individuals had entered the observation room. Adyr could see the tension on their faces—a mix of curiosity and irritation at having arrived late. Clearly, the other researchers were starting to hear the news and had come to witness it themselves.

He didn’t blame them. At this point, he was no longer something that fit within human boundaries. No one could predict how far those limits might stretch.

The attention was welcome—it had been his plan all along. In this world or the other, if he wanted to reach something quickly, drawing attention was the fastest way. He knew that well. And for that, once again, he would cast aside his anonymity and background role, laying everything bare.

"Now I will begin the gravity increase—starting at 2G," Corven said. The chamber lights dimmed as the gravity test initialized.

This was twice the standard gravitational force of Earth. For a normal person, it would greatly impair mobility and cause the heart to pound under strain. For Adyr, it felt like the weight of his own body had settled on his shoulders. Noticeable—but far from problematic.

"Any discomfort?" Corven asked again, more for procedure than expectation.

"No," Adyr replied flatly.

"Good. Now continuing with 3G."

This was the stage where a normal person would experience dizziness, blurred vision, and trembling muscles as blood began to drain from the brain.

But for Adyr, his bones merely began to hum. Not from pain—just feedback. He shifted his stance slightly to keep balance, more from habit than necessity.

"5G," Corven announced, seeing no warning signs.

This was the threshold that trained fighter pilots often endured—enough to knock out anyone unconditioned.

Adyr felt the changes begin. His blood pressure shifted. His heart gave a steady, forceful thump to compensate. The weight pressed into his lungs with each breath, but it remained manageable. Controlled.

"7G."

At this level, most would already be unconscious. Even elite pilots required G-suits here. For Adyr, his eyes narrowed. His vision blurred for a fraction of a second, then corrected itself. He flexed his fingers, noticing a slight delay in response.

"10G," came Corven’s voice, followed by a note of gravity. "This is the lethal threshold for a normal human."

Adyr recognized the pressure. From his old world, he knew this was the level of G-force fighter pilots experienced during sudden maneuvers, often only for seconds, and still enough to cause permanent damage.

His breathing had grown heavy. Not choking—just thick, like trying to inhale through wet concrete. His vision constricted at the edges. His muscles began to twitch involuntarily, reflexes reverting to raw survival mode.

Yet he endured. The real test hadn’t even begun.

"Good. Now moving to 12G."

Corven’s voice slowed. His eyes darted between the monitors, tracking Adyr’s vitals like a man watching a countdown.

Adyr’s jaw twitched. His heart was still steady, but each beat carried weight. Every breath pushed against invisible steel bars. His muscles were taut, fully locked, bracing for collapse.

"14G."

The edges of his vision darkened again. Pressure bloomed behind his eyes. Veins in his temples and neck pulsed under strain. His thoughts slowed, but not enough to lose clarity.

Sweat clung to his skin like glue. It trembled and evaporated before reaching his chin.

Still manageable.

"16G."

Now, Corven and the other researchers visibly tensed. This was where even mutant-class subjects typically failed. But Adyr remained.

He focused inward. Micro-tears spread through his deep muscle fibers. Pain crept behind his knees, across his spine, beneath his arms. His knees bent slightly, not from choice, but the force wasn’t enough to drop him.

"18G."

His ribs began to creak audibly—not breaking, but straining under pressure. His heart no longer beat with rhythm—it fought to circulate blood. Irregular flow.

His mind thickened, not unconscious, but wrapped in static. Thoughts began to blur around the edges, but his focus stayed intact.

"20G," Corven announced. The room fell silent.

Adyr suddenly felt as if a car had been parked on his body, not just his shoulders, but on every cell. Carrying this weight wasn’t like lifting a car. It was worse. The gravitational force pressed down with relentless precision, turning his 80-kilogram body into more than 1,600 kilograms of burden.

And still, he stood.

This... might be the limit, Adyr thought.

"Now I’m turning the gravity back to normal. Mr. Adyr, thank you for your cooperation," Corven said, though he could feel his own heart racing as he spoke.

Even STF members, after undergoing the full mutation procedure, required years of training and conditioning to endure this level of gravity.

Adyr might not have reached STF-level strength yet, but he was almost there, and he had started without even being a mutant. And still, he had reached this stage in just a few days.

That alone was enough to remind every researcher in the room just how much untapped potential third-generation mutants truly held.

***

A/N: Yo people. The book is now in WSA ranking and to be in this ranking is very important for the future of the book. I’m waiting for your supports. Thanks

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