Chapter 575: Very Reliable Fins (Part 3)

Chapter 575: Extremely Flippered (Part 2)

The monofin sprint events soon saw world records shattered one by one under Meng Fan’s formidable physical prowess. By now, his livestream had attracted many swimming, diving, and fin-swimming enthusiasts and athletes, all left utterly dumbfounded.

In the realm of cultural or intellectual crossovers, there’s always this saying: “I’ve always loved so-and-so, thought the things he said made a lot of sense and broadened my horizons—until he started talking about my own field, and then I realized he’s just a clueless blabbermouth.”

But when it comes to Meng Fan’s athletic crossovers, the saying goes: “I’ve always loved Meng Fan, thought his ability to cross fields was astonishing—until he stepped into my own domain, and then I realized he’s not just amazing; he’s a god!”

In this live-streamed challenge, every water sports enthusiast, without exception, came to understand just how freakish Meng Fan was—and where that freakishness lay.

Lung capacity!

Speed in water!

Stamina!

Watermanship!

The gap between enthusiasts and professional athletes is a chasm, but that chasm pales in comparison to the gap between them and Meng Fan. If an enthusiast’s ability is 1 and a pro’s is 10, then Meng Fan is 1000+. The difference between 1 and 1000+ is no different from the difference between 10 and 1000+—meaning the gap between an enthusiast and Meng Fan is roughly equal to the gap between a pro and Meng Fan.

After a short rest and some food to replenish his energy, Meng Fan’s next challenge fused all the freakish points they’d seen into one grand feast, leaving them stunned beyond measure.

Putting the monofin back on, Meng Fan said to the camera: “The next challenge might be a bit boring, and it might take a while. I’m going for the longest distance in a single breath with a monofin. The world record is 312 meters.” He pointed at the pool. “That’s about three laps plus a bit of this pool. It tests stamina, speed, and lung capacity.”

With that, Meng Fan did some preparations—just a few deep breaths, nothing like the lengthy pure-oxygen inhalation before similar events—then dove into the water, kicking the fin steadily forward.

The livestream split into two screens: one showed the full view of the lane, allowing a normal perspective of Meng Fan’s entire challenge; the other was underwater, tracking his every move beneath the surface.

Two data points were also displayed: time and distance, updating in real time how long he’d been underwater and how far he’d gone.

As the challenge began, the livestream’s chat buzzed with activity.

At first, scattered comments discussed the challenge, mostly in jest, with the main target being the administrator of the adjacent diving pool.

“Quick, hold back the diving pool admin—don’t let him come over!”

“Haha, as soon as he heard about holding breath underwater, the admin drained the pool!”

“Protect our Iron God!”

“Protect our pipe guy!”

“Protect our drainpipe!”

“Protect our sewer!”

“Protect our air! Don’t let Iron God take another breath!”

“Admin, Meng Fan’s greatest enemy in life!”

“Admin storms in furious; admin storms out cursing!”

“Admin: Have some humanity, will you?”

...

Meng Fan moved through the water, his monofin carving a beautiful arc, propelling his body forward at a steady, even pace.

Steady didn’t mean slow.

After the first 50 meters, Meng Fan touched the wall and turned back, completing it in 14.22 seconds.

This was naturally much slower than his 50-meter monofin world record challenge, where he’d clocked under 9.77 seconds, but 14.22 seconds was still close to the world record of 12.89 seconds.

What did that mean?

Comparing the current 312-meter monofin breath-hold world record to a running race, it was like Meng Fan running the first 100 meters of an 800-meter race at nearly the speed of the 100-meter world record.

If he could maintain that pace for the entire distance, it would be like running the full 800 meters at nearly 100-meter world record speed.

Tick tock.

A dozen seconds passed quickly, and Meng Fan completed the second 50 meters in 14.23 seconds—remarkably consistent.

Third 50 meters: 14.23 seconds.

Fourth 50 meters: 14.22 seconds.

Fifth 50 meters: 14.24 seconds.

After two and a half laps—250 meters—the time was 71.54 seconds, or 1 minute 11.54 seconds. Compared to the 250-meter monofin world record of 2 minutes 28 seconds, that was... half the time!

And all in one breath!

To the average viewer in the livestream, Meng Fan just seemed fast and able to hold his breath a long time under such intense exertion. But to seasoned enthusiasts and professional athletes, it was a tidal wave of shock!

“Who remembers how long Meng Fan took for the 250-meter challenge earlier?”

“A bit over 2 minutes, damn—how much was he holding back?”

“No, no, I don’t think he was holding back. He just aimed to match the world record time and succeed; he never intended to go all out!”

“So now he’s completely forgotten the time he used for the 250-meter challenge, right?”

“Forgot!”

“God, he forgot!”

“Only now do I understand why everyone says Iron God’s strength is beyond human comprehension!”

“Swimming this far at this speed—truly a man without lactic acid!”

“Not just no lactic acid; I seriously suspect he can breathe underwater!”

“Not seeing any gills, I can only assume he’s mastered fetal breathing or turtle breath!”

“Haha, if he’s not mutated, then he must be cultivating immortality!”

“Couldn’t it just be evolution?”

“Still, I think the relevant authorities should study Meng Fan—not necessarily slice him up, but get some hair, some blood, maybe even some... you know!”

“Haha, following that logic, I’d strongly suggest Meng Fan donate serum or... something! Humanity’s evolution depends on this!”

In the blink of an eye, Meng Fan had finished the sixth 50 meters, turned around, and soon broke the world record for the longest distance in a single breath with a monofin—312 meters.

Seeing the challenge completed +1, Meng Fan didn’t stop this time; he kept swimming.

He’d said the process might be lengthy, and now he’d only swum for 1 minute 30.39 seconds—just past a minute and a half. That was hardly lengthy.

He kept going.

350 meters!

400 meters!

At this point, he’d essentially accomplished the feat of “running 800 meters at nearly 100-meter sprint speed,” with a time of 2 minutes 3 seconds.

He continued.

His speed dropped slightly, reaching 500 meters in 2 minutes 37 seconds.

Holding one’s breath for 2.5 minutes isn’t that impressive—the world record for static apnea is over 24 minutes—but Meng Fan was doing it under intense physical exertion, which is a whole different ballgame. The difference between intense activity and complete stillness with minimized heart rate and oxygen consumption is more than tenfold!

“Oh my god, he’s still swimming! He broke the record ages ago, no need to keep going!”

“Terrifying!”

“This is really extreme sports—very dangerous!”

"Quickly go summon—the master of the neighboring hall!!!"

(End of this chapter)