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墨書 Inktalez
"I gave you three times the amount of time, and this is the result you deliver, college students. The nightmare is about to begin. Everyone line up; for every minute you exceed, you'll have to run an extra kilometer. You have no choice but to leave your luggage behind. Charge forward like beasts!" Instructor Fang bellowed.
The students erupted in a flurry of murmurs, but who dared to voice a complaint?
Groups of students began to sprint toward the field. There was no time limit, but once they reached the field, they quickly formed lines, with girls and boys mixed together in three rows of varying heights. The boys led the charge, and the track measured five hundred meters around. The instructors did not specify how many laps they had to run, so the students dragged their belongings along as they stumbled forward.
Four Soldiers followed closely behind, pushing any lagging students forward without hesitation.
After one lap, most students felt exhausted; having run only five hundred meters was already tough enough, especially with heavy suitcases in tow. Some students had particularly daunting loads—two hands gripping a heavy suitcase while carrying a backpack taller than themselves, adorned with a plush toy. This girl thought military training would be just for show and that evenings would be for fun.
Having heard many college students boast about military training, she would likely find her former peers insincere after this experience.
She burst into tears as the four sergeants circled around her, blowing their whistles sharply. The girl quickened her pace, stumbling back into formation.
"I don't like cowards, and I certainly don't want to see them still have the energy to shout. If I find out they can still yell, it only means one thing: your command is incompetent, and I will punish you," an angry voice rang out.
"Yes!" the three sergeants replied in fear.
After finishing his statement, Instructor Fang climbed into the military Jeep parked at the entrance. He flashed a sly smile and said, "I'll be watching you all. If you think you can slack off, don’t blame me for being harsh."
The students trembled like sheep awaiting slaughter.
Once the Jeep's engine roared to life, the sergeants blew their whistles again. This time it was a long-distance run with no time or distance limits; they had to carry their own luggage while running. Knowing it would be like this, Freyr had packed lightly, leaving behind any unnecessary heavy items since he wasn’t there for leisure.
Xiong Tai carried a travel backpack and pulled two wheeled suitcases behind him; each contained a dumbbell along with other daily necessities. Yet he bore no complaints. Compared to those who had packed even less than Freyr and were now grumbling, he stood firm like a man without a word of discontent.
"I'll help you carry one of your bags," Freyr offered with a frown; it was unfair for one person to manage three pieces of luggage alone. Moreover, this long run had no time constraints—it was military training designed for these battle-hardened soldiers to vent their frustrations on the students. Without strict discipline, where would their combat effectiveness come from? Besides, college students were generally robust and well-developed; once they graduated, they would face the brutal Zerg Battlefield head-on and needed thorough preparation.
Freya dragged her suitcase along, feeling a jolt in her arm. It felt as if the suitcase was filled with iron weights. Although the wheels reduced friction, the overall weight of the case was still heavy, and the strain on her hands was undeniable.
Freyr rubbed his numb wrist but continued to pull the suitcase, keeping pace with the group.
The overall speed of the team was not very fast, as the sergeants had not set a specific pace. Naturally, these outstanding students fell into a slow jogging rhythm. However, this speed might not be the safest choice; the fact that several sergeants had not immediately caught up or blown their whistles was a significant issue.
If sprinting consumed a lot of energy, then over a certain period, the time required for sprinting would be quite short. This would not serve any purpose for training. Slow jogging primarily tested patience and was essentially an exercise that assessed willpower, similar to marathon running.
After two weeks of military training, there was no way to escape the most basic form of practice.
Freyr maintained a steady pace while occasionally switching arms to balance his strength, though his arm felt a bit numb.
Time passed without Freya noticing. The overall speed of the group slowed considerably; indeed, slow jogging proved to be a challenging exercise. These students struggled with their heavy suitcases, and some female students collapsed on the ground.
Three sergeants ran past the fallen girls without acknowledging them and immediately blew their whistles, saying, "What’s going on? Why has the speed dropped so much? Keep running! You can only stop when I stop; you’re not allowed to stop now—run!"
Several sergeants jogged alongside the group, blowing their whistles and urging them on. The team suddenly seemed to regain some spirit and picked up speed again. However, after circling the field twice—each lap being five hundred meters—those sergeants showed no intention of calling for a stop. Two laps meant they had already covered one thousand meters. Normally, an average person would only be tested on a thousand-meter run, yet they had already run six or seven laps. Fatigue was setting in severely, and more students began to fall behind.
Freya cursed herself for being incapable; she had long since fallen behind the group. Yet despite her struggle with the heavy suitcase, she hadn’t given up entirely. She had sworn to herself that she would keep pushing forward.
Xiong Tai ran beside Freyr with his suitcase still in tow, maintaining his speed despite being drenched in sweat. He clearly felt tired but still managed to smile and said, "What’s wrong? Is this too much for you? Want to switch?"
His grin was exaggeratedly cheerful.
Freyr looked at him strangely. "I'm fine, I can hold on. How can you run so slowly? You'll get punished."
Xiong Tai's mouth twisted slightly; his smile resembled more of a grimace. "Heh heh, we are made of steel. I'm not afraid of punishment. At worst, I'll just have to run a few more laps. If you get lonely, I'll keep you company. We're brothers; I won't let you fall behind alone."
Freyr coughed lightly and patted his chest before continuing, "Alright, listen to me. Speed up and run ahead; we’re almost done. We still have about five laps to go. Those who fall behind will face consequences, and they can be quite serious."
"Are you kidding me? At this speed, we still have to run five laps? I don't believe it," Xiong Tai laughed, refusing to accept the reality.
"I'm serious. You don't believe me? You'll be crying later. Just stick with me; in the end, everyone will be punished together anyway. I really hate myself for being so weak; my stamina is terrible."
Xiong Tai widened his eyes and looked into Freyr's eyes. Although his logic was indeed strange, he also exuded a sense of loyalty. Just for helping him carry the suitcase, he felt compelled to stay by his side.
Xiong Tai pondered for a moment and then said, "Then why do you still want to help me? If you give me the suitcase, you could run faster. We could switch it back when the instructor isn’t looking."
Freyr hadn’t expected Xiong Tai to think that way; his mind was truly simple.
"Let’s skip that idea; if we get caught, the consequences will be worse," Freyr shook his head.
Xiong Tai fell silent.
Although the two were lagging behind, they hadn’t fallen too far back. With a good sprint, they could still catch up with the group. However, as the main group surged ahead for another lap, they heard Instructor Fang laugh heartily and say, "Last lap! There are still five laps left! Let’s see how many of you can make it to the end—there's a reward!"
"Did you hear that? A reward! It must be food; I bet on it!" Xiong Tai suddenly opened his eyes wide.
Freyr pondered for a moment before quickly responding, "Don't believe him; it won't be anything good."
Xiong Tai fell silent for a moment, then awkwardly smiled and said, "Is this instructor for real? Soldiers don't lie, right? With the Eight Regulations in place, how could they hide anything from us?"
Freyr quickly switched arms, panting heavily. "But lying is human nature. Have you heard of 'looking at plums to quench thirst'?"
Xiong Tai, a big and burly guy who was a physical education student, pondered for a moment. "What does looking at plums to quench thirst even mean? Is it food?"
Freyr couldn't stand this food-loving attitude. He rubbed his nose and continued, "All you think about is food. It's not about eating; it's an old story. A general once passed through a desert where fresh water had run out. He looked at the yellow sands and said there was a plum grove ahead. The soldiers then pushed themselves to gallop towards that imaginary grove. In the end, they found no plum grove but returned to camp instead. This is a parable meant to inspire our desire for survival. Simply put, it tests whether we have the ability to complete our missions."
"That's too confusing."
"There's even more that will confuse you. There are many hidden meanings within it. Soldiers don’t lie without reason, especially in wartime when lies can bring trouble. Once accustomed to peacetime—especially during this period when we are not threatened by the Zerg —people can easily develop hatred over material wealth and enjoyment. Hatred disrupts harmony, and no one has yet managed to overcome this mindset. Adversity reveals a person's true character; in dire situations, we must unite as one to survive."
Xiong Tai slapped his forehead in surprise and whispered, "So they’re just playing us? And we’re going along with it?"
Freyr immediately shot him an exasperated look. "It’s not that simple; we’re still too weak. Being played is normal. Little do we know that the Zerg has been treating us like livestock for so long. Only by growing stronger will they start to respect us."
"Wow, I really made the right choice sticking with you," Xiong Tai said, glancing at Freyr.
Freya felt a slight rush of blood to his face; his legs were already feeling weak from running. The training he would face next in confronting them was far from over. In his previous life, these training exercises had been easy for him; he wouldn't even glance at them back then. But now, reborn, he needed to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. As a former Ace Mecha Master, he had once possessed great power and could regain it again in the future. Having resolved to become stronger, he knew he couldn't afford to falter or repeat past failures.
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