Regimental Commander Li Is Heading to the Testing Grounds

"You have a chance of winning, but you don't seem to care... So, just consider it winning a match for me, okay?" By the end of that sentence, her tone and gaze had grown hopelessly weak. Regardless, it had been like this ever since she decided to chase after him just now, so Captain Milla simply threw caution to the wind. As for dignity and authority, she could build them up from scratch next time... In any case, she had only started building them a moment ago and hadn't gotten very far anyway. Because she had grabbed his arm earlier, they were standing very close. Han Qingyu looked at her, staring until Milla began to feel a bit uneasy, before finally hesitating and saying, "Um..." At that moment, a direct, naked greed flashed in his eyes. It made Milla's heart suddenly flutter in panic, followed by a surge of anger. She hurriedly let go of his arm. "Um, Captain Milla... do you have any savings? I mean, since the army isn't offering a bonus, what if we..." Han Qingyu seemed completely oblivious to Milla's reaction. With an earnest demeanor, he finally managed to finish his sentence. "Huh?" Milla came to her senses, thoroughly stunned. "...Just kidding. I'll give it a try." Han Qingyu walked off, disgruntled. Milla remained standing there, dazed. Was he joking? But he had looked completely serious just now. *** Dormitory 11 caught wind of something regarding the mutual selection rules for when recruits graduated from camp. Consequently, many questions became quite easy to deduce. For instance, in Milla's case, it was basically confirmed that she would soon become a captain. Because it was a newly formed squad, she had been sent down to pick people—or rather, recruit them. Because of this, all her odd behavior from before now had an explanation that, while speechlessly hilarious to the guys in Dormitory 11, was reasonably plausible. Playing these little schemes... Sigh, it really was impossible to dislike her. "So Miss Milla really didn't take a liking to any of us, huh?" Lai Shitou the grave robber's voice drifted through the darkness. From the sound of that wistful sigh, he had probably been agonizing and turning it over in his mind for quite a while. He had a peculiar trait: he could state even the most absurd things with the utmost sincerity. Only this time, what he said happened to be the truth. The others chimed in, "Yeah." What a painful realization. Their illusions shattered, the men of Dormitory 11 felt heartbroken and dejected for about two seconds... Then the atmosphere suddenly turned cheerful. It was great that everyone was out of the running together; compared to one of the bastards here actually succeeding, this outcome was simply wonderful. Tonight, Dormitory 11 was an alliance of the brokenhearted, yet there was no grief. Once the cheerfulness subsided, everyone lay quietly in bed. None of them were asleep, each lost in thought. "No matter what, I'm going to train properly over the next few days... I won't slack off anymore," Yang Qingbai suddenly spoke up, his tone serious. "Yeah, me too." "Count me in." A few voices answered him, and then silence returned. "I really want to make Miss Milla happy for once," Liu Shiheng said out of nowhere. "Yeah." "She really has been trying so hard to teach us." After saying that, Dormitory 11 fell quiet again. "No matter how hard we try, we probably won't win..." After a while, the grave robber said, "I'm not saying I won't try. I will, but the outcome... might just be like that." "At least put on a good showing." "Yeah." Another brief silence followed. "But if some people clearly have a chance to win and still don't try," Wen Jifei coughed, clearing his throat, "a certain someone knows I'm talking about you, right?" "Don't play dead, or I'll blab every single embarrassing thing you did in high school," he threatened playfully with a chuckle. Han Qingyu smiled knowingly in the dark. "Don't worry. I'll do my best." By 'do his best,' he meant giving his maximum physical effort without tapping into the last trace of remnant source energy within his body. "Then good luck, Qingzi." "Yeah, good luck. We'll also do our best not to embarrass the captain." The conversations in Dormitory 11 tonight seemed to go like this, with a few lines tossed out at random only to halt abruptly, though nobody was truly asleep. This time, the interval stretched a bit longer. "Captain Milla's degree of source energy fusion probably isn't very high. It might just be average..." Yang Qingbai whispered. "Shh." Seven voices hushed him simultaneously. In truth, everyone had guessed it—from the rumors that she could never get promoted to captain, from how she was a god with a gun yet said she didn't want her squad members to become like her, from her anxieties and the silly things she did out of fear of not recruiting anyone, from her slightly excessive diligence and that desperate desire to prove herself... They had already figured it out. They just didn't want to say it out loud, nor did they want to hear anyone lay it bare... as though exposing it like that would be an act of cruelty. Yet someone had finally voiced it after all. "That's why she's working so hard to find stronger squad members. She's probably putting effort into reaching out to veterans too... It's a battlefield, after all; of course she'd worry." For once, Wen Jifei wasn't fooling around. After dinner today, as he walked along the road, Milla had actually gone out of her way to apologize to him. He never could have anticipated that. At the time, he had said it was nothing, asking if the chief drill instructor and the others didn't beat them up for no reason anyway. Milla had replied that it wasn't the same, saying she really should have found a better way to explain inertia and braking today... "The question is, why is she so desperate to become a captain? Frankly speaking, with the casualty rates on Azure's frontlines, it's not like it's some grand promotion to glory... Why does a girl have to push herself so hard and compete with herself like this?" Liu Shiheng voiced his bewilderment. This time, no one answered. Dormitory 11 maintained its silence, because no one had an answer for him. "It's probably because of her older brother." A sudden yet calm voice drifted in from outside the dormitory door. Zhang Dao'an might have been standing there for a while already. He said, "Milla's family has lived in Huaxia for a very long time... Her only brother sacrificed his life on Huaxia's sighting frontline ten years ago as a foreign captain." Then came the sound of footsteps, fading into the distance. *** The next morning, after Han Qingyu finished breakfast, several people sent down from the army found him. They began by questioning him thoroughly about everything regarding the incident at Reserve Station 700, pressing for many details, and then took his fingerprints. Because of Lao Jian's advance warning, Han Qingyu held back and did not bring up the matter of the bonus. "By the way, Second Lieutenant Milla Joe is currently the direct instructor for your squad and dormitory, right?" After the official business concluded, an officer called out to Han Qingyu, who was about to leave, casually asking as if the thought had just struck him. "That's correct," Han Qingyu said, stopping and turning around. "How is she?" the officer asked with a smile. "You've been together for a while now. From your perspective, do you think Second Lieutenant Milla is suitable to become a captain? The army this year..." Han Qingyu thought seriously for a moment, looked up, and said in a calm yet firm voice, "She isn't suitable." The officer looked somewhat taken aback. "Hm? Do you two... have a conflict? Or do you believe Second Lieutenant Milla has issues with her character...?" Because of Han Qingyu's current exceptional status, this officer seemed to value his opinion quite highly. "No, she's wonderful. I believe that if she became a captain, she would even lay down her life for her squad members... In fact, our entire Dormitory 11 likes Second Lieutenant Milla very much," Han Qingyu said, knowing full well he was shattering Milla's dream, but continuing nonetheless. "However, I am very certain that she isn't suitable." A trace of confusion remained on the officer's face. "I hope you will reconsider this matter carefully," Han Qingyu said after a pause. "Being responsible to the sighting battlefield is also being responsible for Miss Milla's life." Ultimately, the officer nodded thoughtfully. "Alright. Go on to your training." *** Han Qingyu told no one about that conversation. It was just that over the next few days of combat training, as daily living targets, he and the other seven men of Dormitory 11 completely cast aside their previous slacking attitudes... They became remarkably earnest, regardless of whether their opponents were other recruits or instructors stepping up to demonstrate, and regardless of how futile their efforts were before the instructors. Those instructors were all Zhang Dao'an's men. They were not easily embarrassed like Milla. Although they held back their strength, their punches landed with bone-jarring impact, delightfully justified by the motto: "Only pain can teach you what to do in the future... Remember to say thank you when the time comes." Aside from Han Qingyu, who still held back his full strength, the rest of Dormitory 11 went all out. In those days leading up to the end of mid-training, they finally began to resemble real soldiers. Every day, they were so exhausted that they fell asleep the moment they hit the bed, even groaning in pain in their dreams. During this time, Milla still occasionally found excuses to take a shower in Dormitory 11, because a female comrade had told her that, chronologically speaking, the squad members had started working hard right after that day. She came every day to deliver ointment to her recruits. She looked happy every day, yet she tried her best to keep a straight face, concealing the little smugness of her scheme having succeeded. Those days passed quickly, and finally, the day of the mid-training assessment arrived. At a window on the third floor of the instructors' building, Li Wangqiang rubbed his hands together, craning his neck on tiptoes with an eager gaze. On the training ground not far away, more than a dozen wooden sparring rings were set up in the center, surrounded by a roaring crowd of recruits and veteran spectators. "Agh! Tsk." A recruit windmilled his arms near the edge of the ring, struggling for several seconds before finally losing his footing and tumbling off. Li Wangqiang sighed in regret. In truth, he knew very well how slim the recruits' chances of winning were; it was practically impossible for them to win. Even so, Regimental Commander Li looked forward to it with passionate anticipation every single time. "It feels like every time it's just by a hair." Having returned below the ring, Lai Shitou the grave robber had already had his turn. He was among the first batch to go up, and after coming down, he had been lamenting constantly, claiming he had been close so many times, just by a hair. Now, however, he realized that almost all the recruits seemed able to achieve that... just by a hair... yet no one could ever bridge that gap. "The more it looks like a close shave, the more it proves the veterans are taking it easy," Han Qingyu remarked from the side. The rest of Dormitory 11 looked over at him. "Initiating, braking, operating with ease. Only with absolute certainty can one dodge with such tiny movements... Look at that big guy." Han Qingyu pointed at someone currently squared off against a veteran on a ring. "Him? His name is He Tangtang," Yang Qingbai said. "He's the one who was late to grab meat that day... He became pretty famous later on." "Oh, with an appearance like that, his name is that... cute?" Han Qingyu chuckled and said, "Look at the veteran facing him. Every time, he dodges with plenty of clearance... At first glance, it looks like he's performing worse than the recruits who miss by a hair, but that isn't the case. His movements are very fast, posing a massive threat to the veteran." "Is that so?" The rest of Dormitory 11 nodded thoughtfully, then said dejectedly, "Then what's the point? They're veterans, after all... Two-year veterans are still veterans, and they're wearing source energy apparatuses. Doesn't that make it obvious they don't want us recruits to win?" "No, that simplified apparatus they're wearing... is far from real three-dimensional maneuver gear." "Really?" "Yeah." Han Qingyu made a comparison in his mind and continued, "What they have on is probably mainly for protection, allowing the recruits to go all out... As for mobility enhancements, even if there are any, they're likely limited." The second-year veterans on the rings wore simplified apparatuses completely different from those of Lao Jian and the others, consisting merely of a metal strap across the chest fastened with a square source energy box. The recruits, on the other hand, held real blades, though they were made of ordinary material rather than dead iron, and their edges were unsharpened. Before the assessment began, to remove any hesitation from the recruits, Zhang Dao'an had deliberately had someone demonstrate: when a blade struck a body, the blade itself cracked. He seemed intent on showcasing the power of the source energy three-dimensional maneuver gear at this mid-training juncture. "It's my turn... I'm going up." Right as they were talking, the proctor called a number. Wen Jifei squeezed out of the crowd, handed his name and number tag to the proctor seated to the side, and leaped onto the ring. Then he just stood there. He didn't make a move... Meanwhile, the veteran across from him was bound by rules that allowed only dodging, not attacking. Their fun lay in faking people out, offering openings as bait, and baiting the recruits until they tumbled off the ring—that was the moment veterans applauded the loudest and whistled the hardest. Yet right now, the veteran had already presented eight hundred fake openings, and Wen Jifei still didn't budge. "Out of ideas, aren't you?" Staring eye to eye, Wen Jifei waved the blade in his hand. "No matter how you judge it in the end, as far as I'm concerned, this counts as a draw." Having explained his strategy, Wen Jifei turned around and leaned down. "Qingzi, how much time is left?" The time limit was two minutes. Han Qingyu glanced at Milla's watch on his wrist. "Still... eighteen, seventeen seconds." "Oh, then that's about enough... *Swish.*" The blade suddenly whipped diagonally upward from Plague Chicken's hunched abdomen. Gasps erupted. How shameless! This move caught the vast majority of people off guard, but the veteran facing Wen Jifei had been on the sighting frontline... They never grew careless easily. In an instant, the man vaulted back to the other end of the ring, wobbled slightly, and held his ground. A pity. Over the remaining dozen seconds, Wen Jifei attacked like a madman, but there was no longer any opportunity. "Sorry, Captain." Having ultimately tumbled off the ring, Wen Jifei scrambled up from the ground, gave Milla a wry smile, and walked over to pat Han Qingyu on the back. *** "You're that Han Qingyu?" Because he had struck Zhang Dao'an on the head, and because of the meat-grabbing night, the veteran knew the recruit standing before him was named Han Qingyu. Even if he hadn't known, he would have gathered as much from the sheer crowd of recruits gathering around the ring. "Yes." Han Qingyu stood relaxed and upright, holding his blade in his left hand, his arm hanging naturally beside his trouser leg. "Come on." The veteran smiled easily, but the next second, as he dropped into a stance to receive the attack, he was completely focused, the blue light on his chest flashing... He couldn't afford to lose face here. "Alright." The moment the word left Han Qingyu's mouth, his blade was already drawn. A left-handed slash whipped straight upward from below, allowing him to transition immediately into a downward chop, whether straight or angled. "Whoa." In the corner where the veterans were huddled, a rare gasp broke out. "So fast!" Han Qingyu was indeed fast, but it still wasn't enough. The veteran on the ring dodged to the right at the very first instant. The distance pulled open in that fraction of a second was enough to evade the slash while neutralizing any follow-up strike. However... damn it. Only after finishing his dodge did he realize that Han Qingyu's slash hadn't been completed at all. The left hand had only served to propel the blade. Midway through the upward sweep, Han Qingyu had already caught the weapon with his right hand, switching to a reverse grip, twisting his torso, and driving power from his waist and core. The movement was awkward and ugly... exceedingly difficult, and therefore exceedingly hard to defend against. Aside from catching the opponent by surprise, its sole aim was angle—taught by Milla. While charging forward, the blade tore through the air from lower left to upper right. In a flash of lightning, there was only this single strike... The recruits had been fighting for half the day and understood by now that true opportunities came only once or twice. "Land, damn it!" *Clang!* With a muffled crash, the veteran's right forearm smashed heavily downward onto the blade. Evading was already out of the question, so he had instinctively chosen to block. Cracks spiderwebbed across the blade, and Han Qingyu was deflected to the right along with his weapon. Everyone froze for a second at the sight. "That—" The gathered recruits instantly erupted, pointing at the ring and shouting, "Foul—" They wanted to protest that this was a foul. Weren't the veterans only supposed to dodge and not attack? Was blocking allowed? Was that even a block? Yet their protests went unfinished. Because the battle on the ring had not stopped at all... The impact from the veteran's strike drove Han Qingyu downward while knocking him to the right. Yet his blade remained in a reverse grip, and his forward momentum had not ceased. *Screeech...* A long, drawn-out scrape rang out. Carrying his forward inertia, Han Qingyu's tilted body twisted with all his might, the outer edge of his right foot sliding against the ground while his left foot pushed off with explosive force. Just like that, moving in a streamlined arc, he swept past the veteran's waist. That sound was the friction of the blade scraping against the veteran's waist. The noise died away. Han Qingyu staggered, barely maintaining his footing on the other side of the ring. From the moment he had first drawn his blade to this point, barely five seconds had elapsed. The veteran remained standing there. He did not turn around to look at Han Qingyu, but slowly lowered his head, staring at the left side of his waist... He wasn't injured, yet his entire expression and demeanor looked as though he had truly been sliced open. The entire arena fell unexpectedly silent. Until the proctor's voice rang out, devoid of emotion and crystal clear: "Severed arm. Bisected at the waist." "Squad 11, Han Qingyu, wins." *** In the instructors' building, Li Wangqiang was gripping half a window frame that he had accidentally ripped off. "What are you staring at? Hurry up and arrange the regiment's duties! And get me a car." "Yes, sir!" his subordinate answered and hurried off. "Tomorrow, I'm heading to the testing grounds with this batch of recruits," Li Wangqiang explained to several regimental staff officers. Then he turned back around, chuckling foolishly, his eyes shining as he looked at the lively uproar suddenly exploding across the training grounds, gazing at that figure who had just leaped down from the ring. "Let me tell you, tonight I'm going up to Mount Nine Armies' Wall of Heroic Spirits to ask my old buddies for a blessing... If this kid tests below Grade C, I, Old Li, will cut ties with them for life. If he's Grade B or higher, I'll buy them drinks for three days and three nights!"