Tian Xingjian felt somewhat sad. For whom? Ali or Torick? He didn’t know himself.
When he bid farewell to his comrades in the First Company in the morning, the ones most reluctant to see him go were naturally the warriors of First Squad, Second Platoon, who had fought alongside him all the way. They had shared life and death and formed bonds of trust amidst blood and fire.
They greatly admired the tactics of the Deputy Company Commander. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on NovᴇlFirᴇ(.)nᴇt
Especially Torick, who confided a lot in Tian Xingjian, speaking from his ancestors’ experiences up to his own.
Torick was from the Mark Clan, a very low-ranked group, technologically and culturally backward. Even in the Federation, they were still called lower-class people by some.
Torick said, "I hate them! If anyone dares call me lower-class, I’ll punch them in the face."
But such people were indeed few in the Federation. He felt deep sorrow for his fellow clansmen born in the Gazalin Empire, having personally killed Ali, driven by such indescribable emotions.
Their nation had endured too much suffering. He hoped to end it all, but he was merely a platoon leader of Special Reconnaissance Soldiers.
Special Reconnaissance Soldiers were warriors who risked their lives in their business. Torick didn’t know when he might die; he was greatly reluctant to see Tian Xingjian leave, but being reassigned to the Combat Department might help Tian fulfill some wishes.
At their parting, Torick’s eyes were red: "Deputy, on this journey, if it weren’t for you, not just the prisoners, but even my squad would have been left behind. I know your skills. Keep it up! Make that country that discriminates against our weak clans get out of the Federation’s land!"
When the small transport ship landed at the training airport of the Gallipalan Military Academy, Fatty finally came to his senses, looking at this place he had left for less than a month, feeling as if a lifetime had passed. Torick’s words kept echoing in his mind, and after a long while, he finally said bitterly to himself, "Why think so much? I’m just a mechanic soldier who’s been shuffled around."
Meiduo and Nia, who were on the same transport ship, had been required to stay with the other rescued Federation prisoners. They were waiting at Gallipalan for a special plane from the capital to pick them up.
The capital had prepared a grander welcome ceremony for them. In the coming months, their main job would be cooperation in publicity.
As for their future, it was basically determined that these prisoners would no longer be reassigned to their original combat units but rather to various logistics departments in the rear, working and living in relatively safe environments.
Led by Colonel Compton, Tian Xingjian first went to the officer management office of the Combat Department to report and fill out a series of forms.
This Lieutenant-ranked military staff attracted lots of attention. After arranging accommodation, since the specific assignment to which research lab wasn’t ascertained yet, Tian Xingjian got three days of leave.
However, the pretty female clerk at the officer management office reminded him that because the forward command had informed him that General Bernadotte might summon him at any time once he got over the current busy period, so please try not to leave the academy.
The first place Fatty wanted to visit with temporary free time, of course, was the laboratory.
If it weren’t for Boswell, Milan, and the whole laboratory’s full support, Fatty couldn’t have returned alive, and [Logic]’s transformation abilities played a significant role in this operation.
Moreover, Fatty had many new ideas regarding Mecha combat, especially those related to [Antenna]—if those could be equipped on [Logic], it would dramatically improve the Mecha’s overall capabilities.
Also, the ion light saber from [Vajra], which almost cost Fatty his life, was a hard-learned lesson about the importance of a good weapon in close combat.
Even putting aside the Mecha, if an ordinary frail person swung two vegetable knives wildly, a group of unarmed tough guys would have to think twice before getting close.
Thinking about this made Fatty incredibly anxious.
After contacting the laboratory via internal phone, Fatty waited at the elevator door for someone to come and let him in.
After a while, a graceful figure appeared—Milan.
This long-time domineering beautiful woman twisted Fatty’s ear as soon as she saw him, angrily saying, "Well! Fatty, you’ve grown bold! Just got a call from Nia, and she said she’s looking to settle accounts with you, and you dare come here willingly? Get in with me!"
With his ear being pulled, Fatty was taken into the elevator to the experiment cleaning room door, where he had to take a bath. Only then did Milan let go, leaving his poor ear red and burning with pain.
Fatty washed up thoroughly under Milan’s bullying eye and then was pulled by the ear into the laboratory.
As soon as they entered the lab, the whole hall erupted in laughter, making Fatty, lacking any manly dignity, blush bright red.
Wanting to resist Milan’s violence, he ultimately didn’t dare, hanging his head like a pig grabbed by the butcher’s ear, struggling into Milan’s private lab.
Upon entering, the furious violent female scientist Milan grabbed a micro-energy submachine gun, pointing at Fatty and snarling, "Don’t think I have no more guns because I gave you the Mauser. This one hurts more, believe it or not? Honestly tell me how you bullied Nia, or you won’t leave this room today!"
Fatty was completely depressed. This crazy violent beauty surely meant her threats. But he didn’t really understand what Nia had told her; feeling wronged, Fatty couldn’t figure out what had irritated that waist-poking witch.
Seeing Milan looked ready to discharge the firearm; Fatty quickly recounted everything that had happened, including Meiduo’s and Nia’s words, to prove his innocence.
To his surprise, once he finished, Milan had a strange expression and yelled, "Dead Fatty, you dare to be picky and two-timing? I’m going to rid the people of you today!"
With a gunshot, an energy bullet grazed Fatty’s body and made a hole in the wall behind him.
Fatty hurriedly said, "Let me explain..."
Before he could finish, a series of shots struck the ground around him.
Fatty jolted, then got furious; this woman was too unreasonable. Today he would go all out.
With a swift move, he was in front of Milan, flying up to kick the micro-energy submachine gun out of her hand, grabbing Milan’s chest, tripping her, and straddling her down to the ground.
Angry beyond reason, Fatty raised his palm and started smacking Milan’s butt fiercely! The rebellious people stood up today!
This book has a manuscript saved up. Dear readers, rest assured to recommend and bookmark. If you truly feel it’s good, recommend more. Every 500 additional recommendations add another Chapter. At the fastest speed, seventy-two can do ten thousand words a day, which should satisfy everyone, right?