The instructor assigned to them is actually quite handsome.
He is tall and robust, looks very strong, yet doesn’t give off the impression of being overly muscular. Everything is just right, truly a man of steel and grit.
His face is a healthy wheat color, chiseled, with features sharply defined—from his brow to his jaw, each inch seems carved by the blade.
Sharp, composed, revealing a point.
Like a sword shimmered with cold light that hasn’t entirely drawn, yet already instills fear.
Mia Ginger subconsciously thought of these four words, feeling it was fitting to give him as a nickname.
The face of King Black showed no emotion, his eyes casually scanned her face, met her gaze, and turned to walk towards the shade under a nearby tree.
Seeing him approach, an instructor who was resting quickly bent over, grabbed a bottle of water, and tossed it over.
Cloud Capital University is the best liberal arts college in the country,
Isn’t this a case of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut?
No wonder their captain was cold-faced upon arrival.
The instructor passing the water sighed in his heart.
King Black twisted open the bottle, tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple moving, and soon, a bottle of water became half a bottle.
He took a breath, screwed the cap back on, and tossed it at his feet.
Seeing him standing straight as a pine even during rest, the instructor who handed the water stepped forward, jokingly said, "They’re all delicate little girls, why so serious?"
"Hah." King Black glanced at him, snorted without good humor, and didn’t say much.
"Haha," another instructor nearby whispered, "By the way, Captain, there are the most beauties in that line of yours."
"Did they send you to ogle beauties?"
The speaking instructor choked for a moment, shrugged at the other.
Ten minutes quickly passed.
A short, forceful whistle blew, and all the girls in the ninth platoon stood up simultaneously.
"A brief self-introduction," After more than an hour of training, the man who had been cold-faced finally seemed somewhat normal, speaking in a deep voice, "Dallas Taylor. Taylor as in Lord Black, cold as in frigid. I will be your military training instructor for the next twenty-eight days. You may call me... Instructor Taylor."
The group of girls in the team looked at him, no one spoke.
Only an hour in, everyone had sensitively felt that this Lord Black was more stern and domineering than the other instructors.
Unfortunate and miserable.
It was the psychological reflection of everyone at this moment.
"Next, I’ll emphasize some rules," Dallas Taylor glanced around, speaking slowly, "First, during military training, no one is allowed to be late or leave early without a leave slip signed by a counselor; Second, during military training, you must wear the full set of camouflage in the mornings and evenings, and only a camouflage short sleeve on top in the mornings and afternoons; Third, during military training, mobile phones are not allowed on the training ground, nor jewelry, preferably avoid makeup, sweat smearing it looks frightening..."
"Pfft!" A girl couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
"Is that funny?" Dallas Taylor turned his head to look, "Step out, stand in military posture for half an hour."
The laughing girl sulked away to be punished.
Dallas Taylor withdrew his gaze, continued saying, "When I’m speaking, do not laugh, do not interrupt, and do not whisper to each other. Anything must be reported first; only upon my nod can you proceed. Understand?"