The Madman Says, Stop

"Captain... Milla... Captain Milla?!" For some reason, Han Qingyu found Milla's current stance a bit strange. It somewhat resembled the way she had stood that day in her bikini, right after shedding her outer clothes. Namely, head tilted slightly, arms crossed over her chest in a way that pretended to be accidental, but was very clearly intentional. Yet she was plainly wearing a combat uniform right now... Well, then again, the uniform's formfitting cut did an almost unfair job of accentuating Captain Milla's proud figure. "Ah?" Only after several seconds did Milla let out a blank gasp. "These," Han Qingyu said with an innocent gaze, tilting his head up as he pointed at his body, "do I connect all the apparatus ports?" "Oh... right. That's the biggest improvement in the Generation Nine apparatus—unified activation. We were only retrained on it this morning ourselves." Milla, who was still using a Generation 8 apparatus herself, hastily explained. With that settled, Han Qingyu quickly donned the entire apparatus just like everyone else, connecting all the interfaces—the heart, shoulders, and of course the kidneys. So, in a certain sense, the customary term "armor donning" was actually incorrect, because even after strapping on the apparatus, there was no armor on one's body. Entertaining such idle thoughts with a touch of excitement, he waited for another minute or so until the chief instructor finally issued the order: "Commence apparatus activation." At that instant, the vast majority of recruits on the training field trembled with excitement. What they had seen, yearned for, and anticipated—sprinting like the wind, shattering blows like thunder, surging impacts like tidal waves... all of it was finally about to open up to them. "At the heart, the circular iron plate. On the inner side edge—yes, find it." Zhang Dao'an guided them from the side, explaining, "For the initial activation each time, you must press this button first. Later on, though, if the apparatus enters temporary dormancy during combat, that won't be necessary. Once you gain experience, you can trigger it through the circulation of source energy in your body." *Click.* *Hum.* ... In a ragged yet continuous chorus of sound, thousands of three-dimensional apparatus war boxes vibrated, bursts of blue light flashing across the field. It felt like standing in an ancient battle formation, watching countless soldiers draw longbows in unison... The war machine was fired up, poised to strike. Up until this moment, not a single person had stopped to wonder: why had they been told to sit down? By the time they found out, it was already too late. "Ugh." In front of Han Qingyu, Liu Shiheng suddenly let out a muffled groan, pitched forward headfirst into the dirt, and blacked out. Almost simultaneously, more people collapsed unconscious... *Spurt.* Some even spat blood before fainting. Swaths of recruits fell amid stifled groans and splatters of blood. Evidently, Lao Jian quietly passing out while injured had actually been quite impressive. A truly "grand" spectacle. Han Qingyu had no time to look around, for he too was feeling it—the sensation Zhang Dao'an had spoken of on the bus the night before: "near-death and resurgence as source energy crashes against the heart"... Old Zhang had called it romance. The influx of source energy from the three-dimensional apparatus was entirely different from the gentle beauty of natural bodily absorption. It was like a tidal surge. The first wave, in particular, was like an immense wall of water building right before your eyes, and then, at an unpredictable instant—*boom!* It crashed down violently, slamming all that seawater and accumulated force straight into your body, into your heart. Just that single hit knocked out most of the recruits on the spot. Han Qingyu gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, enduring the sensation of his heart shattering, that overwhelming agony... Then he began to sense a shift. The surge began spreading from his heart to every corner of his body. This scattering flush was still violent, brimming with raw force. As it swept through his arms, it made him feel as if a single punch could punch through a wall; as it coursed through his thighs, it felt like lifting a leg would send him soaring; as it passed through... And then, it began to ebb back. All in all, it truly was like ocean waves, surging forward through his body, receding, surging again... steady and unending. Han Qingyu gradually adjusted. He opened his eyes. Across the vast training ground, among the recruits from dozens of regiments, fewer than a hundred remained sitting upright, and the vast majority of them still had their eyes squeezed shut, struggling through the painful adaptation. Even now, people continued to topple over from time to time. About two or three minutes later, "Fuck... that hurt like hell!" Drenched in sweat from head to toe, He Tangtang opened his eyes and reeled off more than ten curses in a single breath before turning his head to look at Han Qingyu. "...Monster." By now, no more than sixty recruits were left seated on the field. "Hoh?! Hoo, hoo-hoh-hoo..." Up on the command platform, Chief Instructor Qi Shantong, who was also wearing a three-dimensional apparatus on his back, suddenly acted like an unhinged maniac, chuckling bizarrely, looking utterly thrilled. "Morning training ends here for the rest of you! Leave the ones who fainted! As for the ones spitting blood—medical team... get up here!" he bellowed in a frenzy. Then, crouching low, he bounded left and right like some bizarre beast. With wide, manic eyes, he swept his excited gaze over every recruit still seated below. He stared into their eyes, forcing them to hold his gaze, then grinned savagely like a beast and let out a low snarl at them. Much like an alpha wolf. "Not bad, you bastards... Hahaha! Up! All of you, get up and run! Run... run! If you don't reach that wall within forty seconds, I'll shoot you!" With that, he actually pulled out a handgun and fired into the air with a loud *bang*. "Get up, quick... He really is crazy," Zhang Dao'an warned from the side—a man whom Regiment 425's recruits had once considered a madman himself. He Tangtang and Han Qingyu scrambled to their feet and dashed out. "Fuck!" With just the initial burst of power, right on the spot, He Tangtang's towering frame—over one point nine meters tall and nearly two hundred jin—flipped upside down and pitched headfirst into the ground. "...Doesn't actually hurt, though," He Tangtang observed after a moment. "Run! I told you to run!" Qi Shantong crouched at the edge of the platform, leveling his gun at him. His expression was that of a vicious lunatic, yet his voice was eerie as a ghost. "Get up. Run." He Tangtang scrambled up in a flash. *Thud.* He leapt too high and crashed down once more. "You haven't adapted to the surge of source energy and your current strength yet! Take it easy, get your balance first!" Milla urged anxiously from the side. "Twenty-eight... twenty-seven..." Qi Shantong watched his watch, gun in hand, counting down. Finally, flailing and stumbling, He Tangtang and Han Qingyu managed to run forward. Qi Shantong turned his attention to the others for a moment. "Hoh... not bad." When he turned back a few seconds later, the two of them were already getting the hang of it. Standing upright, Qi Shantong craned his neck and roared after them, "Yes! When source energy surges into your right leg, kick off the ground... and you'll run like a rocket! Haha!" "Keep the leg where the energy is receding suspended in the air... That's it! Master the timing, adjust your tempo! Don't just adjust your legs—you can also try adjusting the surges of source energy! Make it fast, slow, fast, slow... Fast, fast, fast! I'm about to shoot!" Gesticulating wildly, he resembled a conductor—a raving mad conductor. In the end, everyone reached the wall within forty seconds. In truth, this time limit was quite generous, plenty even for ordinary people. And for them, equipped with three-dimensional apparatuses, Han Qingyu estimated that if they had understood the rhythm and technique from the start... six or seven seconds would probably have been enough. Yet Qi Shantong had deliberately withheld that from the start. "Hahaha! Well done! Got the hang of it now?" Qi Shantong clapped, nodding vigorously in approval. Then his smile twisted savagely as he held out his right hand. "Be back in front of me within five seconds... or else—*bang*." His left hand fired the gun. The recruits bolted back like madmen. "I'm proud of you. Truly." When the last recruit finally made it back to their original position, spurred on by bullets nipping at their heels, Qi Shantong snapped to attention and struck his fist against his chest. "Truly, you've surprised me. You've moved me... Now, shuttle runs. Begin!" The lunatic raised his gun once more. "In a moment, when I say stop, stop immediately and sprint back! Understood?... If any unlucky bastard takes more than three meters to brake, I'm sorry... a bullet will punch right through your head! Hahahahaha!" "Run, run, run... Stop! *Bang!*" A bullet actually struck the ground three meters away... Was he really playing for keeps? The recruits froze. "Sprint back! Didn't you hear me?! When I shout 'stop', it doesn't mean stop—it means turn and sprint back..." Qi Shantong stamped his foot, exploding in frustration as he snarled, "Who told you to actually stand there?!" Left with no choice, the recruits lowered their heads and kept running. Back and forth, sprinting without pause. After a good while, Qi Shantong finally calmed down. He changed the magazine, lit a cigarette, and sat leisurely at the edge of the platform with the gun in one hand and the cigarette in the other. "What's your name?" he suddenly asked one of the recruits. "Li Zhaoyu." The recruit came to a stop. "I didn't tell you to stop! Keep running... Keep talking, which regiment?" The recruit resumed his shuttle run, answering as he moved, "Regiment 413. Degree of fusion..." "Don't fucking tell me your degree of fusion... Volunteer or non-volunteer?" "...Volunteer." "You?" Qi Shantong switched to someone else. "Cheng Qinrui, Regiment 429... Volunteer." "You?" Another. "He Xianyou, Regiment 453. Volunteer." Evidently, most of those present were volunteers. "And you?" "He Tangtang..." "Didn't ask you..." Qi Shantong waved the muzzle slightly. "Though you can answer if you want." "Then why the fuck would I tell you?" He Tangtang kept his head down and ran forward. "...Huh? Hahaha..." After a brief stunned moment, Qi Shantong burst out laughing. "He Tangtang, I'll remember you!" "Hey, you! What about you?" "Han Qingyu, Regiment 425... Non-volunteer." "Non-volunteer?" "Yes." "Hahaha! That unlucky, huh?! Hahaha... Then from now on, should I call you Jinx?" Qi Shantong amused himself for a moment, then suddenly shouted from afar, "Hey, Jinx... Stop!" Han Qingyu did not stop. "Stop!" Han Qingyu did not stop. "I told you to stop—*bang!*" The bullet struck the ground not far ahead of Han Qingyu, kicking up dirt. He still did not stop. *Bang! Bang! Bang!* "Han Qingyu, stop!" Han Qingyu stopped... and turned to sprint back. "Stop, stop... Everyone, stop! Everyone hold up for a second." Qi Shantong called a halt to all the recruits. Crouching on the platform, he looked at Han Qingyu. "I'm sorry. I apologize to you," he said with utmost sincerity. Then he suddenly raised the gun to his own temple, and without hesitation—*bang!*