Chapter 19 - Trouble on the First Night

The laughter faded, and Dormitory 11 fell quiet once more. Each of them probably had their own thoughts to process on this first night of their new lives.

Han Qingyu lay on the upper bunk by the window, gazing out at the starry sky, which stretched out above the wilderness like a painting, the night a boundless deep sea.

Some of the buildings in the distance hadn’t switched off their lights on schedule, the way the recruit dormitories had. According to Lao Jian, most of the people living there were veterans who had rotated back to the base to rest.

Off-duty soldiers removed their devices and returned to spend a couple of easy, carefree months. Then, they went back out, strapping their devices on and picking up their blades to lay low in forests and on islands, waiting for the next sudden possible battle to the death.

By regulation, they could return at least once a year, but in practice, many of them never came back.

They likely had many sleepless nights like this one too, Han Qingyu thought, pulling his eyes away from the view and preparing to count sheep.

He had to sleep or he would have trouble during tomorrow’s training.

Having witnessed the battlefield firsthand, Han Qingyu was all the more certain that he needed to make the most of every chance to train properly. Training hard during peacetime meant less bloodshed in war. These words were plain but true—that is, unless one’s luck was especially bad.

“Hey, how did all of you end up here anyway?” Wen Jifei suddenly asked out of nowhere, rolling over and propping himself up on his stomach in his bunk by the door. “My own situation is pretty complicated, so I won’t get into it for now. Little Qing stumbled into it while walking at night. What about you lot?”

Wen Jifei suspected there were many stories to hear. Those willing to volunteer for near-certain death were almost certainly youths with heads full of righteous fire. The non-volunteers, on the other hand, each likely had their own brands of misfortune.

Nobody spoke up right away. They were probably each privately fuming and cursing their circumstances.

“Tell us. Tell us how you each stumbled onto this one-way road.” Wen Jifei tried again with different phrasing, still in high spirits.

Laughter rang out through the dormitory once more, though this time with more bitterness and self-mockery.

“So I—I heard someone back home had dug up an ancient tomb and struck rich,” someone finally said.

Wen Jifei jumped in eagerly. “And then?”

“And then I got greedy and thought I’d go dig one myself.”

“Do you actually know how? Feng shui? Finding the site and all that?”

“I... No.”

“So you—”

“Figured I’d try my luck,” the person interrupted. “There used to be quite a few old graves in our area. I packed some food and spent half a month in the hills. After a lot of effort, I finally found a burial chamber that was really well hidden underground. I’m serious. I walked over the spot five or six times in daylight before I noticed it.”

“An actual burial chamber?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“And then?”

“Well, I waited until nighttime to dig—since it’s illegal and all,” the person explained. “Then, suddenly all these flashlights came on, and there was a whole crowd of people. They were crouching and standing, surrounding me, watching me, and they said to me—”

“What did they say?”

“They said, ‘Why are you back again? We figured you’d left. You’ve been circling above us all day, you know? We all said let him go, and here you come back with a hoe. Sorry about this. We can’t let you dig here, so we’ll just have to take you with us,’” the person finished, going silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

A burst of laughter erupted.

Even Han Qingyu couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh in the dark. That burial chamber was probably a well-concealed supply depot.

This grave-robber’s story brought down everyone’s guards, and a second story soon followed.

“I’ll go next,” said Yang Qingbai, the first to introduce himself earlier. “I was driving with a girl on a little trip, and we went down this really remote back road at night and pulled over. We were kissing and kissing when that thing landed. A whole crowd of people came rushing at us. At first, I thought it was the local militia coming to bust us for public indecency. Then, they started going at it with the thing.”

In the laughter that followed, Wen Jifei asked, “What about the girl? Did she also—”

“A piece of metal flew right into her head,” Yang Qingbai said.

Everyone went silent.

Then, the grave-robber from before asked, “You’re this young, and you already have your own car?”

“Huh...yeah,” Yang Qingbai answered, not saying anything more on the matter.

“I-I’m from Harbor City[1],” said the third, Liu Shiheng. His Mandarin was a little awkward, though still understandable.

“Harbor City?!” Wen Jifei exclaimed in surprise. “How did you end up getting caught and brought over here?”

“I came to the mainland with a few friends to go hunting.”

“Right.”

“I got separated from the others in the forest,” Liu Shiheng said. “I didn’t actually see anything come down. I just spotted something through the leaves, thirty or forty meters away. It was just a patch of black. I thought it was some kind of wild animal, so I shot it.”

So, this guy was the boldest of the lot so far. He had taken a shot at a Sharpie.

Someone next to him asked, “Did you kill it?”

“No, couldn’t do anything to it,” Liu Shiheng said. “Then it was basically the same as Yang Qingbai. A whole crowd came flying in out of nowhere. Scared me half to death. I just stood there and couldn’t move.”

“Good thing you froze. If you’d taken a shot at them too, you’d probably be gone,” Wen Jifei joked.

Laughter broke out again. Some people even laughed until they were gasping. A bunch of one-in-a-million bad-luck cases, all listening to each other’s misfortunes and finding it quite amusing.

“Quiet!” shouted a voice from the corridor outside. “I can hear Dormitory 11 like a fish market from way down the hall! Do you know where you are?! Do you?!”

The voice grew louder with every approaching footstep.

With a bang, the door was kicked open. It wasn’t allowed to be locked from the inside.

Two powerfully built men stepped into the doorway of Dormitory 11.

“Fuck, I thought I was hearing things. I can’t believe there are people this bold,” one muttered.

The room was dead silent. Everyone clutched their blankets and pretended to be asleep, not daring to make a sound.

Until someone said, “So...”

The moment Han Qingyu heard Wen Jifei’s voice, he knew it was over. That guy had spent his school years pulling stunts and talking his way out of everything. Some instincts were too deeply ingrained. The words had likely come out on reflex.

It seemed there was no stopping him in time.

“Is there any possibility you misheard, sir? We were all asleep,” Wen Jifei said.

The two men were silent for a moment.

“Good. I like people who aren’t afraid to die,” said Zhang Dao’an, coming round from the side to stand behind the two men.

His sheer height only became obvious when compared to the two bulkier men. Only half his face was visible in the dark, but his shaved head remained conspicuous despite it.

One of the big men then hauled Wen Jifei off the bunk and dropped him on the floor.

“All of you, main training ground now.” Zhang Dao’an checked his watch. “Three minutes. I’ll double the punishment if anyone is late.”

***

The training track on the main ground was enormous, at least a thousand to twelve hundred meters per lap, probably designed for those modified by source energy absorption.

Ten laps.

Apparently, Liu Shiheng’s back foot was half a second late. It was probably not even that, but Zhang Dao’an had declared him late, so he was late.

Thus, it became twenty laps.

From a collective standpoint, this task was simply impossible to complete. Han Qingyu knew this, so he didn’t push himself. When the others in Dormitory 11 went down one after another—retching, collapsing, or passing out—he followed suit, sinking limply down onto the ground.

One of the supervising big men kicked him and told him to keep running, but he didn’t move.

Zhang Dao’an walked over, crouched down, and reached out one hand to grab Wen Jifei by the collar, hoisting him clean off the ground and glowering at his dangling form.

“What are you?” he asked lowly.

Wen Jifei didn’t reply.

“What are you?!” Zhang Dao’an asked again, eyes cold. Although his voice was not brutal, it was still full of pressure.

“I’m a recruit,” Wen Jifei finally said.

“No. You’re worthless. A worthless piece of garbage who came to the Ninth Army to run his mouth, and who will almost certainly get his squadmates killed.”

Wen Jifei’s whole expression went rigid for a moment, then he lurched into a struggle. “I won’t!”

“You will because you’re worthless. You can’t even finish ten laps.” Zhang Dao’an’s gaze suddenly turned ferocious. “Say it. Say you’re worthless! Say it ten times, and I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

Wen Jifei said nothing.

“Worthless.” Zhang Dao’an let go.

Already spent, Wen Jifei crumpled to the ground.

“And you?” Zhang Dao’an looked at Liu Shiheng.

“I—whatever,” Liu Shiheng said.

Zhang Dao’an laughed before turning to Yang Qingbai, “And you?”

“I’m not!” Yang Qingbai snapped, seeming to have an extreme aversion to that word.

Zhang Dao’an turned and pointed at the track. “Finish the laps.”

“I...” Yang Qingbai struggled to stand up, his frame unsteady.

Zhang Dao’an stepped close and bent down to peer scornfully into his eyes. “See that? No matter how tough your words are, you’re still worthless. Someone like you would definitely get me killed if you became part of my team. You’ll get a lot of people killed. Including yourself.”

Straightening up, Zhang Dao’an looked at Han Qingyu, then addressed the group, “Aren’t you all angry at me?”

Nobody made a sound.

“Here’s your chance. All eight of you at once. If even one of you can land a hit on me, this matter tonight will end here.” Zhang Dao’an clasped his hands behind his back and stood there.

Not far from the training ground, a number of veterans stood on their balconies watching with interest.

“Old Zhang’s at it again.”

“Yep, same routine after all these years. Grind them down, break them completely, then let them see what a real fighter looks like. Give them something to aim for.”

“Right. Hey, did anyone in your intake ever land a hit on him?”

“That’s not possible. Old Zhang’s source energy integration is C-plus. He’s been cutting Sharpies for over a decade. You think a few years of teaching dulls that?”

On the training ground, Zhang Dao’an’s sweeping gaze passed over them as he taunted, “Well, what’s the matter, too scared?! Give these sorry bastards a stick. Maybe they’re afraid they’ll hurt their hands.”

A wooden rod was dropped to the ground.

“Pick it up and hit me. You can go to sleep if you succeed.”

Nobody moved.

“Worthless, cowards, trash.” Zhang Dao’an sneered.

Bending down, he picked up the rod and gave everyone in Dormitory 11, sitting or standing, a thwack each. He cursed them out, then picked a person at random and shoved the rod forcibly into their hands.

“Take it. If you don’t even have the courage to do this, how will you stand in front of a Sharpie?”

The grave-robber wrapped his arms around himself, refusing to take the rod.

The rod dropped to the ground.

“If you won’t take it, admit it—admit you’re worthless.”

“I-I’m worthless.”

No one caught the pain and loss that flashed across Zhang Dao’an’s face in that instant.

“I’ll do it,” Yang Qingbai said, walking over to pick up the rod as he stared straight at Zhang Dao’an.

Zhang Dao’an squared up in front of him. “Come on then.”

Letting out a roar, Yang Qingbai swung the rod at Zhang Dao’an in a frenzy. “To hell with worthless! I’m not worthless!”

It missed, again and again. Zhang Dao’an barely moved at all.

Almost every time, it seemed like it would connect, but then the rod would graze past.

Yang Qingbai was drenched in sweat. He bent over, heaving.

Zhang Dao’an eyed him with cold indifference. “Anyone else?”

“Let me try.”

Liu Shiheng had apparently learned some Western fencing, so his attacks focused mainly on thrusting. It made no difference. In the end, the result was the same. He did not land a single hit.

Zhang Dao’an impatiently kicked him aside.

Holding the rod again, Zhang Dao’an walked up to Wen Jifei. “You see? They’re all in this state because of your big mouth. Don’t you feel guilty? Aren’t you going to do something?”

Wen Jifei snatched up the rod and swung it backhanded in one swift motion.

Zhang Dao’an, hands behind his back, leaned back and let it pass.

“Again.”

Miss.

“Worthless.”

Miss.

“Tired? Worthless.”

Miss.

“Go tell the Sharpie you’re tired. Get on your knees and beg it. See if that helps.”

Miss.

“Worthless. You’re going to get your future teammates killed. You know that? You definitely will. Someone like you will get every single one of us killed.”

Miss.

Wen Jifei was already exhausted and could barely stand, but Zhang Dao’an kept goading and humiliating him, over and over. This continued until Flying Plague Chicken was sprawled on the ground, unable to twitch so much as a finger.

Whistles and laughter rang out from the buildings in the distance.

“Next.”

Zhang Dao’an snatched the rod from Wen Jifei’s hands and turned to throw it at where Han Qingyu was standing off to the side.

“Come on.”

Bang!

The whole grounds fell completely silent.

1. Novel’s version of Hong Kong ☜