"The fast-paced hustle of Roland… Roland, wake up. How are you?" In the dimness, Roland, who was drifting in and out of consciousness, felt someone shaking his body incessantly.
"What's happening? Where am I?" Roland opened his eyes, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings, confused.
"Oh my God, Roland, you're finally awake. Do you have any idea how worried I've been while you were unconscious?" Roland had just come to, and his friend Jobs immediately pounced on him, shouting.
"What… what happened to me? I remember following Instructor Pierson for a run, and then I collapsed from exhaustion." Roland scratched his head, puzzled.
"Oh my goodness, you knew you were exhausted. Do you realize you exhausted yourself to the point of passing out? It was just a physical training session, why did you push yourself so hard?" By Roland's bedside, Jobs made an exaggerated expression, addressing Roland.
He just couldn't understand why Roland pushed himself so hard. If it were him, he would surely find a way to slack off.
Upon hearing Jobs' inquiry, Marlin, who was nearby, also perked up his ears. He was also curious why Roland would push himself so hard.
"As a soldier, of course, one must strive until the very end." Facing Jobs' question, Roland scratched his head, embarrassed.
"What? Just because of such a simple reason? That's too flimsy!" Upon hearing Roland's answer, Jobs rubbed his head, looking incredulous. Roland's reason was too simple! It was hardly convincing.
"What's wrong? Do you think this reason is too simple? I believe this reason is the most appropriate. A soldier should be like this."
As Jobs finished speaking, a slightly hoarse but extremely resolute voice echoed. It was none other than their instructor, Pierson.
"Instructor Pierson…" Upon hearing the voice, Jobs quickly looked back, only to see a familiar figure standing straight at the door. Recognizing the familiar silhouette, Jobs immediately identified him as the "demon" he greatly feared: Pierson.
"Good afternoon, Instructor Pierson!" Seeing Instructor Pierson enter, everyone in the room stood up and greeted him.
"Why do you think Roland's words were foolish just now?" Pierson walked into the room, scanning the room with his eyes, and asked.
"N-No, nothing." Jobs waved his hands repeatedly, not daring to admit it. Otherwise, who knows how the irritable Pierson would punish him.
"Humph! You bunch are still lacking in training, all timid and shrinking like a bunch of women. Let me tell you, what Roland said is right. As soldiers, this is how we should be." Watching everyone, Pierson snorted coldly before continuing:
"As soldiers, you must never give up, always striving until the very end. Only those who continuously strive can become true soldiers. Do you understand?"
"Yes, understood!" After Pierson finished speaking, everyone straightened their backs and responded loudly.
"Good!" Pierson nodded in satisfaction at the spirited response from everyone.
Then, Pierson approached Roland. After giving him a deep look, he said, "Roland Bonaba, I remember your name."
With that, Pierson turned and left. As he departed, he casually patted Jobs on the shoulder, saying with a smile, "Jobs? I remember you too."
As Pierson smiled and patted Jobs on the shoulder, his expression sent shivers down one's spine. Meanwhile, Jobs was sweating profusely, fully aware of the implications of Pierson's words, but he could only force a smile.
"I'm doomed. I've caught Pierson's attention. Oh God, why am I so unlucky?" After Pierson left, Jobs's face fell, his hands holding his head in despair.
Pierson's cruelty was renowned throughout the military academy. Being singled out by him meant trouble ahead.
"HAHAHA, Jobs, you're finished. You've been targeted by the brutal Pierson. You're in for a rough ride." John laughed from the side.
"Damn it, John, can't you see I'm upset right now?" Angry at his friend John's mocking, Jobs retorted.
"Sigh, do you think it's too late for me to transfer to another school now?" Disheartened, under immense pressure, Jobs even entertained thoughts of transferring to another institution.
"Sure, if you want people to call you a coward," Marin, who hadn't spoken for a while, chimed in.
"Well then, forget it. I, Jobs, am a proud man. How could I let anyone call me a coward?" Jobs shook his head decisively.
"In that case, there's no other way. You better focus on training. If you excel, maybe Pierson will go easy on you," Roland advised, patting Jobs on the shoulder.
"Get lost, you lucky guy. Why do you have such good luck, earning Pierson's favor, while I'm targeted by him? It's not fair."
Despite Roland's comforting words, Jobs felt even more aggrieved.
"Well, it's your own fault for saying unlucky things that Pierson heard," John shrugged helplessly.
"Enough, John, you schadenfreude! If you keep this up, you won't be my best friend anymore," Jobs said angrily.
"Alright, alright, I won't tease you anymore. From now on, we'll help you properly. We'll make sure you pass the assessment smoothly without facing Pierson's brutality," seeing Jobs genuinely upset, John dropped his playful demeanor and spoke seriously.
"Yeah, Jobs, you can count on us. We'll be here to support you. You'll realize that having us as roommates is the luckiest thing that ever happened to you," John jokingly embraced Jobs' somewhat chubby frame from behind.