First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 116
Chapter 116: Qualified
Lian Sheng attempted to block several punches.
The machine was primarily designed to train strength and reflexes. Its punching speed far exceeded what ordinary students could handle, and with its ability to disregard human balance and unpredictably adjust its limbs, it was formidable. Lian Sheng's eyes could track the movements, but her body lagged slightly behind. By the time she assumed a stance and mustered her strength, the machine's attack had already landed.
The instructor walked over and shook his head. "Your explosive power is too weak!"
While others couldn't block at all, Lian Sheng was getting pummeled into distortion.
"Listen up, everyone!" the instructor barked. "Are you a girls' brigade? The one currently leading is Lian Sheng! What are you all standing around for? Can't even take a hit?"
The male students, still traumatized from earlier, protested, "Instructor, but she doesn't have a crotch!"
Lian Sheng stepped back to catch her breath and retorted, "The pain of a groin strike knows no gender. Yours just has slightly more severe consequences."
A male student tearfully objected, "I vehemently disagree with your 'slightly'!"
The instructor declared, "No danger! Let me repeat—no danger! Every part of you might be at risk except your groin. We have professional male medics standing by. You can rest assured!"
That was anything but reassuring!
"Pressure creates motivation. Without the fear for your lives, how can you summon extraordinary emergency reflexes?" The instructor said with gravitas, "Unless you've got prosthetics down there, I guarantee you'll walk out of this training field intact."
A male student suddenly became wise: "My extraordinary emergency reflex tells me... I should exit the attack range!"
"Learn from the machine. Real fights don't follow human decency—understand?" The instructor continued, "Your opponents will fight dirty too. There won't be medics then, nor will they give you my guarantees. By the time you realize, it'll be too late."
He checked his optical computer and shouted, "Thirty minutes left in the first round! You've wasted fifteen minutes talking nonsense! Well? Ready to quit now? Make it quick!"
With a collective roar, the students stepped forward with the determination of martyrs.
Lian Sheng, however, retreated from the attack range, stroking her chin in thought. After a moment of realization, she stepped forward again. As the machine initiated its move, she blocked while simultaneously retreating.
The machine's strike maintained its force, but she didn't need to fully counter it since she had already withdrawn. By exiting the attack range, the robot's follow-up strike didn't trigger. Lian Sheng glanced up—the counter had indeed incremented.
In other words, as long as she made contact before retreating, it counted as a valid block. That simplified things immensely, allowing her to avoid direct clashes.
The instructor, who had been hovering nearby, snorted. "Cutting corners."
Lian Sheng replied, "This is called adaptive tactics."
The world always leaves an extra window open for the clever.
If she had to properly block over two hundred punches, she'd either end up in the emergency room or the infirmary tonight.
The instructor wandered off without stopping her. He'd already said this training only assessed whether they could meet the requirements—methods didn't matter. Those who skirted this challenge would only meet their doom in the next.
Other students noticed her technique, their eyes lighting up as they mimicked her. The training atmosphere in their section grew bizarre.
The male students relaxed mentally. By halftime, they found the exercise more manageable. As they adapted to the machine's speed, they began attempting consecutive blocks.
Forty-five minutes passed swiftly. Lian Sheng's counter displayed 125—more than halfway there. She removed her protective gear, handed it to the next person, and slumped to the ground outside the training area.
This training, seemingly composed of scattered one-on-one exchanges, was anything but easy. Beyond requiring intense focus, each block demanded maximum effort. The sheer tension drained stamina at a terrifying rate. For forty-five minutes, she'd had almost no chance to catch her breath.
"What are you doing sitting here? Think you can rest now?" The instructor loomed behind them and bellowed, "Run! Everyone, lap the field until it's your turn again! No part of this training ground is for resting! Prepare yourselves! Run!"
Lian Sheng felt this mission's objective was excessively harsh. Constant battering made one crave rest, but without seizing the early stamina advantage, they'd face tomorrow's punishment. This snowballing rule might trap them in the quagmire of weakness from the very first failure until the final day.
Lian Sheng flicked the sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. Running for forty-five minutes was a tragedy in the making.
Students from other military academies also began lapping the field during the break. With varying paces, the groups soon intermingled.
A male student deliberately slowed to fall in beside Lian Sheng, studying her face before grinning. "Hey, you really are a girl! Hello there, little sister."
Lian Sheng ignored him, focusing on regulating her breathing.
The boy tossed his hair. "Has anyone told you how pale you are? I can see the veins by your eyes. Oh, and your eyes are gorgeous."
A fellow Alliance University student pushed forward, sneering, "Hey, what's your game? Poaching from our school? Her eyes might be pretty, but you're blind if you didn't see us behind her."
"Why so hostile? I just wanted to help." The boy said, "I scored ninety-one earlier—not my best. Most will fail this task. You're a girl, at a physical disadvantage. Want some tips?"
The Alliance University students behind him burst into laughter. "Hahaha! Why court death? Our Great General won't even glance your way!"
"...Great General?" The boy frowned, the title ringing a bell.
"Know how many she just blocked? One-eighty! Double yours." The alumni shamelessly exaggerated before waving him off. "Scram. You're not even worth her notice."
The boy scoffed, clearly disbelieving. But with Lian Sheng still ignoring him, he drifted away. Military academy girls often had this ice-queen demeanor—he was used to it. Lian Sheng wasn't icy; she just didn't want to talk.
When the second round began, Lian Sheng staggered back, half-dead. She sat cross-legged, resting for twenty minutes—her only real break. Then, donning her gear, she spent the remaining twenty-five minutes accelerating her blocks.
The instructor periodically glanced her way. Though lacking in strength and speed, her movements were crisp and methodical.
Her second-round tally: sixty-three. Maintaining this pace, she could do it.
Another forty-five-minute run ensued.
Fang Jianchen wobbled ahead, swaying drunkenly.
Lian Sheng rasped between gasps, "Isn't that... more exhausting?"
"Exhausting," Fang Jianchen admitted. "But this way, if I fall, I have an excuse. Then I get ten seconds of rest. A few falls add up."
Lian Sheng: "..."
Returning to the training area, Lian Sheng took five minutes just to put on her gear, all while shaking her head at the instructor.
The instructor's hair stood on end.
In the final round, Lian Sheng alternated between blocking and resting, qualifying by the fortieth minute. She raised her hand and exited early.
Spurred by her example, the remaining students redoubled their efforts.
By 10 p.m., the first batch of Alliance University students completed their ninety-minute session. The second batch fought on.
The students were thoroughly spent. One leaned against the wall, breathing weakly. "Instructor, we need to sit outside. Can you lecture us out there?"
"Those who failed can either run eight kilometers now as punishment or accept tomorrow's penalty. But tomorrow's will be harsher—prepare yourselves." The instructor finally delivered the long-awaited words: "As for those who passed, you may rest now."
Too exhausted to cheer, they limped out arm-in-arm. Alliance University's batch, perhaps enlightened by her technique or driven by pride, had nearly no failures—much to the instructor's surprise, especially regarding Lian Sheng.
Initially so sluggish, he'd expected them to squander the first scoring opportunity, making recovery impossible. Yet they'd succeeded. How disappointing not to witness their wails of despair.
Lian Sheng crawled up two flights to her dorm, showered, and collapsed into bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, her breathing grew heavy.
Soon after, the lights flicked on as three female roommates entered. They glanced at Lian Sheng but stayed quiet.
Though mentally drained, Lian Sheng hovered between sleep and awareness, faintly registering their movements. Fortunately, the girls were efficient—showering and bedding down within fifteen minutes.
At 5 a.m., the alarm blared. Lian Sheng jackknifed upright, every muscle screaming as if a tendon stretched from neck to heel. Rolling up her sleeves revealed bruises blossoming overnight, her arms mottled with purplish-blue, especially along the outer edges.
A chilly draft seeped under the blankets. Though the base had heating, it was minimal—trainees were expected to generate their own warmth. Lian Sheng sneezed, jolting fully awake, and grabbed her uniform.
Two roommates had already dressed and bolted in under a minute.
The cafeteria line was inevitable. Dizzy and foggy-headed, Lian Sheng grabbed a tray only to be yanked aside by Ye Buqing, who steered her to their table.
They pooled half a bread loaf and some congee, silently piling it before her.
"Eat." Cheng Ze, mouth stuffed, mumbled with closed eyes, "Eat while you can. No telling if the instructor will call early assembly, but don't give them any excuses."
Lian Sheng clasped her fists. "Your lifesaving grace shall never be forgotten."
Then she seized the bread, shoveling it in.
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