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墨書 Inktalez
I stopped alongside Old Bi, both of us watching him as Lieutenant Liang spoke slowly, "Every year, the military conducts this kind of training session, usually around the end of the year. There are three main purposes: first, to supply talent to the Special Operations Brigade and the Directly Attached Reconnaissance Battalion. Many soldiers, after one or two years of adjustment, have basically adapted to their units. At this point, joining elite forces saves a lot of basic knowledge teaching; second, it allows for mutual learning and improvement among the Scouts of various units. Each unit has its own reconnaissance team that trains according to their own guidelines without comparison. This training session is very helpful for each unit to learn from one another; third, this training is actually an important competition among the various units in the military. Aside from military exercises, there are few opportunities for all units to gather together. Therefore, this time, the competition among the elites from different units is comprehensive—it’s about style, combat effectiveness, perseverance, and morale! I hope you can bring honor back to your team."
He paused here, glanced at us, and continued, "Since this training began, our regiment has sent participants every year, but no one has ever been selected. Our rankings have always been at the bottom. Since Commander took office, he has made a firm decision to change this situation. Although we are the Engineering Corps and Scout competitions are not our strong suit, the Commander believes that every unit must be prepared for battle. Under equal training conditions and guidelines, there’s no reason why other units can achieve what we cannot! We have often been ridiculed by Brother Units; our Leader cannot afford to lose face! So your mission this time is clear: the Regimental Commander has ordered that you must ensure our ranking is within the top six out of a dozen units. This is a non-negotiable task. If you succeed, you will earn a Third-Class Merit upon your return; if you fail, you will face disciplinary action and be reassigned to the Service Center to raise pigs! Is that clear?"
Lieutenant Liang's voice grew louder.
Once again came the themes of competition, face-saving, and honor. In that moment, I felt a strong sense of resistance and annoyance. I glanced at Old Bi; he seemed unfazed. This training relied heavily on him and seemed unrelated to me. To put it in trendy terms, I was just a bystander who happened to be selected.
Old Bi pulled out a cigarette, lit it up, took a few puffs leisurely and said, "Liang, we got it. We'll do our best." Then he ignored Liang Hui's stern expression and dragged me out of the office.
"Hey, you two! Hurry up and pack your bags! The notice says you need to report by 6 PM tomorrow afternoon. We’ll take the train tonight; after dinner I’ll come pick you up at Unit to take you to the station."
As we descended the stairs, I was still deep in thought. To be honest, recent events had left me somewhat disappointed with the military; it wasn't as simple as I had imagined. Also due to my bad mood at that time, I had zero interest in any training or competitions. However, being able to temporarily escape from this whirlpool of troubles wasn’t too bad either. As I walked and pondered, my feelings of resistance began to fade.
Once outside the office and down a steep slope, Old Bi pulled me into a corner while smoking and said with a laugh, "You have to accompany me this time! It's interesting how you're involved in everything."
I shot him a glance and replied, "What can I do? I'm just a pawn following orders; that's the basic requirement—not something I want. You should think about how to make it into the top six; otherwise when we get back you'll be heading off to raise pigs."
Old Bi looked a bit awkward. "Don’t say that; I won’t end up in such a place."
"Oh? You’re quite confident?"
"Not at all! Here’s the thing: those Main Combat Units have better personnel quality and numbers than us. Plus their training content is specialized—not like our Engineering Corps where most Scouts also have duties like security and patrol work. Their overall quality is much stronger than ours." Old Bi stated seriously.
"Then why aren't you worried?"
Old Bi took a puff of smoke and said, "Mountain Man has his own clever plans, so don't ask too much."
After returning to the Unit, the notification reached the Company Headquarters. After completing the necessary handover work at the Company Headquarters, I returned to the Barracks to arrange my tasks and began preparing to pack my luggage. At that moment, Garfield came over with a large package; it was my parcel. Since our company was on duty at the gate this month, the soldiers coming off duty brought it back directly.
I opened the package and discovered it was the Refined Steel Rod I had ordered earlier. My mood instantly lifted, and I took it out to examine it closely. The craftsmanship was quite good, with no burrs, and the rod had been polished. There were two Nunchaku, and the grip area had been treated with a frosted finish for better grip—thoughtful design, I thought.
I pulled one of the rods out and twirled it in the air; it felt just right. The main reason I ordered this equipment was that I realized not every rod fits every person perfectly due to differences in hand size. Old Bi's specialized rod felt a bit thin for me since I have larger hands, especially after breaking my previous rod into two pieces, which made them seem flimsy and unable to withstand heavy strikes.
Thus, my design concept for this equipment initially referenced Old Bi's rod design but transformed it from one into four segments. Generally, when we use Nunchaku, we hold the ends of the rods and let the chain wrap around our palms about an inch; this way, when we spin it, we can keep it close to our palms. Therefore, I adopted a -0- (rod length, chain 0; currently popular is 8-18-8 standard) style. Since the rods concealed a connecting iron chain inside, I made them hollow with thickened walls to prevent bending. Overall, they didn't feel much heavier than my previous wooden Nunchaku. After playing with them for a while, I connected the two Nunchaku together again to form a Short Staff. Holding one in each hand and swinging them felt quite smooth. Finally, I twisted both Nunchaku together; now they formed nearly a meter and three in length—not too long—slightly shorter than a staff but easier to handle. If they were any longer, the Refined Steel Rod would feel heavy and cumbersome.
After playing for a while, I satisfiedly disassembled them and placed them in my suitcase to take along for training—a whole month of fitness during downtime. After dinner, I returned to the Barracks, changed into casual clothes, and waited for the vehicle to pick me up. Before eight o'clock in the evening, I heard a car outside. Grabbing my Backpack, I stepped out of the Barracks; sure enough, Lieutenant Liang arrived driving a Jeep. Peeking inside, I saw Old Bi already seated there as he tossed his bag into the trunk. We headed straight for the train station.
The administrative staff had already booked our train tickets in advance, so Old Bi and I embarked on our journey toward a county in Guangxi where our training base was located—the Directly Affiliated Training Brigade stationed there. Without detailing our tiring journey by train and long-distance bus followed by taxi rides, we finally arrived at our reporting location around 4 PM on the second day.
After verifying our Officer IDs at the entrance and asking the sentry about where to report, Old Bi and I walked through the gates of the Training Brigade Camp with our Backpacks on our backs. Upon entering, we were greeted by a wall facing us with an inscription that read: "In our first battle, we shall prevail!" The calligraphy was vigorous and imposing.
As we walked toward the reporting area, we occasionally spotted soldiers training in physical uniforms; clearly not all were trainees at this hour—most likely they were personnel from headquarters. Some were running five kilometers with sandbags tied to their feet; others practiced on pull-up bars like windmills; some engaged in grappling exercises that created quite a lively scene; further away seemed to be a Shooting Range since faint gunshots could be heard.
"Isn't this more like a military camp than ours?" Old Bi leaned over to ask.
"Heh." I didn't have much to say; however, compared to our Engineering Corps back home, this place certainly felt more military-like.
The Training Brigade was indeed vast; after walking for nearly ten minutes past a Playground along with several dormitory buildings and classrooms—and asking several soldiers along the way—we finally found the reporting area. It was an old three-story building adorned with a red banner stretched across its second-floor corridor: "Welcome elite troops from brother units to join Hunter Training!"
Look how impressive this is, I thought to myself. This Training Brigade really knows how to put things together, making it feel like a Hollywood blockbuster with their Hunter Training.
There was a table at the stairway on the first floor, with a sign that read: Registration Desk. Behind the table sat a sturdy-looking Captain in Camouflage Uniform and a skinny Sergeant chatting. We walked up, saluted, and said, "Leader, we are here to register."
The Captain didn’t even stand up; he glanced at us and asked, "Which unit are you from?"
"Unit 5, one Cadet and one Instructor here to register."
"Oh—so you’re from that Engineering Corps that always ranks at the bottom every year, huh? Haha! You guys have poor results and arrive late too. Can’t send anyone out, or just too embarrassed to show your faces? Hahaha!"
What an annoying type, I judged silently, but both Old Bi and I kept quiet.
The skinny Sergeant didn’t say anything either; he chuckled a few times but soon realized it was pointless and cleared his throat. "Anyway, you two can register yourselves. Instructors stay on the first floor, Room 107, one person per room. Cadets stay upstairs, four per room. Gather in front of the building at 8 PM after dinner for Mobilization for Training."
Following his instructions, Old Bi and I completed our registration. We agreed to meet after dinner, grabbed our backpacks, and went off to find our respective rooms. The layout of the building had one room on the first floor, with stairs splitting off into six rooms on each side. I easily found my room. Upon entering, I saw two single wooden beds positioned on either side of the room. On the bed to my right sat a figure with their back to me—was that a girl?!
(To be continued; more exciting updates ahead!)
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