"Is this guy our instructor... that harmless-looking Fatty?" A girl incredulously asked as she twisted the arm of another girl beside her. The girl being twisted gasped, her mouth agape, unsure if it was due to pain or fear, and was stunned into silence.
Whether it was the Repair Camp or the Special Forces Camp, the trainees no longer knew what words to use to express their current feelings; collectively, they were immersed in shock and unable to extricate themselves.
Especially the trainees from the Special Forces Camp, including several veterans, felt as if they had been slapped hard! No wonder people said ignorance is fearless. In comparison to Fatty, their skills were utterly inadequate. The army was indeed a place where hidden talents abounded. They always thought they were second only to heaven itself, but now they realized, that was all bullshit!
Catherine covered her face in horror as she looked at Fatty. She couldn't believe that this chubby guy was so formidable. Challenging him one-on-one was courting death. It turned out that he had been holding back all along. As he said, her combat skills were nothing but Three-legged Cat Kung Fu to him. If he had kicked her with that leg, would there be any skin left on her delicate body?
Fatty paid no mind to these trainees. Since he decided to show off, he would go all the way! Completely subdue these ignorant guys to avoid any future incidents.
He coldly smiled as he walked to the training ground at the Special Forces Camp, turned back, and looked at the stupefied trainees, saying, "What's so great about being a Special Soldier!"
He grabbed a training grenade and hurled it fiercely. The grenade drew a beautiful arc in the sky and flew over the training ground's wall! Then, he grabbed two military daggers, reversed one, and stabbed it into the high-density strength test target, burying it to the hilt. The other, he threw almost without looking, hitting a target's throat fifteen meters away perfectly.
While observing the trainees' gaping mouths, Fatty picked up a special military rifle, disassembled it into parts within seconds, then reassembled it with his eyes closed in no time.
Fatty was originally the epitome of a nouveau riche show-off, and now he was hooked. Slapping an energy box, he lifted the gun and fired a burst at a hundred-meter-distant target. The bullets did not hit the bullseye but aligned in a line, slicing through the target's neck. The trainees knew that Fatty did not even let them check the scores, directly demonstrating how to play with a gun in the most straightforward way!
Fatty tossed the gun aside, walked to the obstacle course, casually pulled out a stopwatch and pressed it, then darted out like a leopard. His explosive power propelled his speed to the maximum instantly. One meter, two meters, three-meter walls were like nothing, not slowing him down even slightly. After the three-meter wall, he crossed the single-log bridge in three steps without wavering. The rope net seemed tailor-made for him; every climb wasted neither time nor effort. When he reached the mud pit, he crossed it swiftly like a crocodile on the hunt. His clumsy-looking body kept only a few centimeters from the barbed wire above, moving amazingly fast. The subsequent horizontal bars posed no challenge either. After completing the entire course, Fatty slowly pulled out the stopwatch and pressed stop.
Without looking at his stopwatch, the Special Training Camp's trainees knew that even their instructors were no match for Fatty!
What is a Special Soldier? This was it!
The trainees felt utterly ashamed. They used to show off their trivial skills wherever they went, fearing no one would know. Only now did they realize how ignorant they had been!
Fatty was also showing off, but he had the right! Someone like him should show off, deserved to show off! If laughed at by such a person, what did it matter? If he wasn't qualified, who was?!
After a week of intensive training, these trainees learned that Special Soldiers weren't as simple as they had imagined. They had to sweat and even bleed countless times more than ordinary soldiers. Even the most talented couldn't become qualified Special Soldiers without thousands of rigorous drills. Their vanity-driven participation in such training was sheer self-humiliation!
The Captain of the Special Forces Camp regretted immensely. He never thought that the seemingly sluggish Lieutenant Fatty was an old hand in the Special Forces, not just an old hand but the top elite. In any Special Forces Camp, he was the undisputed platoon leader of Sharp Blade Company!
Just by Fatty's brief displays, the Captain saw just how much he lacked! On the battlefield, behind enemy lines, encountering such a Special Soldier would mean only one outcome: death. In Special Forces, only the most capable had the loudest voice, a tradition of the Federation Special Forces for hundreds of years. Only strength ensured the safety of the entire team; only strength guaranteed the completion of tasks!
The Captain knew that Fatty's showing off had a purpose. He selected the most basic Special Soldier skills.
Hand-to-hand combat was self-evident; just look at the iron railings twisted like pretzels and the fallen trees. Armed combat, with two military daggers for both close and distant attacks, was unbeatable! Vicious and precise! No need to mention firearms; he was a gun expert! Disassembly, reassembly, and shooting - which of them wasn't at the top level? Grenade throwing - he casually tossed it over sixty meters, as easy as pie! Obstacle course - the most shocking of all. Fatty seemed born for this event, clearly showcasing skills honed from countless battles and behind enemy lines!
The Captain didn't even know that after the outbreak of war, Fatty had escaped over twenty times, covering all kinds of terrains, totaling thousands of kilometers. In this aspect, his skills were unparalleled.
Contrary to the Special Forces Camp's silence, the Repair Camp's trainees were wild with excitement. They already regarded Fatty as a god-like figure. These trainees had little life experience and were at the age of idolizing heroes. Their instructor demonstrated his prowess, giving them immense gratification!
This Repair Camp was the right place! We'll follow this Fatty. Awesome, truly awesome! What a true expert! The most remarkable thing was that he always kept a low profile, leaving you unaware of when he'd impress you next, compelling you to idolize him!
Looking at everyone's impressive expressions, Fatty couldn't help but feel complacent. He remembered how Bear Instructor had pushed him so harshly, and the hardships finally paid off. Showing off occasionally was incredibly exhilarating.
Feeling smug, he suddenly heard an angry shout: "Who threw this grenade?" Fatty turned and saw Hamid walking toward him, angry expression and the training grenade he threw earlier in hand, as if looking to settle accounts.
Fatty jumped in fright, "Did it hit someone?"
Seeing it was Fatty, Hamid's attitude softened and asked, "Was it you who threw it?" Seeing Fatty nod, he thrust the training grenade back into Fatty's hands, saying, "It almost hit General Russell. Be careful next time!"
Fatty, breaking into a cold sweat, cursed himself for getting carried away, hurriedly said, "Sorry, sorry, I wasn't careful!"
Some trainees, seeing Fatty nearly kill General Russell with a grenade, felt schadenfreude, thinking he might face serious consequences, only to be dumbfounded by Hamid's next words.
Hamid told Fatty, "By the way, the General asked me to notify you that he has a meeting this afternoon and can't give you a class. Arrange your time to review combat cases on your own."
Hamid left, leaving a group of stupefied faces behind.
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I admit, the readers' power is overwhelming. My standard is utterly suicidal! In just one day, the monthly votes soared to the top ranks on the new book chart, such a feat is incredibly thrilling.
Finally, I understand the true meaning of that phrase: what goes around comes around!
I can't find words to express my gratitude to everyone. I know this isn't about exchanging chapters for votes; it's about your support for Seventy-two, a form of validation.
Damn it, would you really bear it if I repaid you with my life???
(To be continued, for the rest of the story, please log in to WWW.CMFU.COM. More chapters available, support the author, support legitimate reading!)