Chapter 773: Chapter 683: Gray Training
"Private Xiaoliu, return to position!" Jishilin shouted.
Xiaoliu glanced at the soldier thug rolling on the ground, then returned to his place.
"It seems only one person completed the assembly task."
Jishilin’s face was calm.
Everyone straightened their backs in two rows and held their breath.
The imagined punishment didn’t arrive, Jishilin merely shook his head, as if he was already accustomed to such scenes.
"I don’t have the obligation to force you to learn anything. Before heading to the battlefield, this is the only training opportunity. Next item!"
With Jishilin’s shout, a young man with a dull gaze walked in. He looked only slightly older than the youngest soldier, with unkempt, messy hair.
The young man sheepishly smiled at the crowd, then lowered his head again, silent.
Without a word, Jishilin raised his hand and shot the young man’s leg.
Blood gushed out. The sudden scene left everyone in the room at a loss, the young man’s painful wails echoing in their ears.
"This guy is a death row inmate, no need to pity him."
Jishilin’s words were calm, but they changed in tone when they reached the soldiers’ ears. Even though their levels of education varied, they had never heard of such indifference towards life.
"Next, you’ll learn battlefield first aid. When the companion beside you gets shot, the golden time for first aid is only thirty seconds."
As he spoke, Jishilin quickly lunged to the young man’s side, retrieved a roll of medical gauze from behind his waist, and bound the young man’s leg. Then he tied the gauze to the rifle butt, tightly twisting it.
"After stopping the bleeding, the next thing to do is," Jishilin hoisted the young man, securing him on his back, "immediately move your companion away from the danger zone, to a safe area."
"Remember, always crouch down to avoid enemy artillery fire impacting yourself."
With that, Jishilin crouched, carrying the young man in a swift sprint, running from one end to the other of the tent.
After putting the young man on the ground, a few Life Daylight medical personnel came in quickly, expertly administering painkillers to the death row inmate, followed by a cold emergency spray and a revival injection.
In no time, the death row inmate’s blood stopped, the wound healed, and his cries gradually weakened.
Several people dragged the youth, as if he were a dead dog, back to his previous spot.
"Next, it’s your turn to operate. I’ll call numbers one by one, and when your name is called, repeat the steps I demonstrated before. Move quickly!"
Upon hearing this, the soldiers inside the tent exchanged glances and swallowed hard.
"Xiaoliu performed best just now, you come up first!"
Xiaoliu, surprised to be named, quickly responded and stepped forward.
At that moment, the death row inmate burst out with unexpected strength, his bloodshot eyes wide, rushing to Xiaoliu.
"Don’t save me, don’t save me, let me die..."
The death row inmate’s voice trembled with a hint of sobbing.
The pleading look made Xiaoliu momentarily forget to resist, allowing the death row inmate to bump into his chest.
"Please... kill me."
The medical personnel stepped forward, pulling the death row inmate away. Once pulled away, he appeared soulless, his face ashen, head hung low.
Bang!
The second gunshot.
The death row inmate’s wails rang out.
"Sorry." Xiaoliu shook his head, "I’ll be quick."
He recalled Jishilin’s demonstrated moves in his mind, clumsily bandaging the youth before hoisting and running to the designated spot.
Everyone took this scene in, plunged into prolonged silence.
Jishilin nodded with satisfaction, then called out the second name.
The second gunshot.
"Sir, what should I do?"
The boy with a young face spoke hastily,
"Can you lift your leg a bit?"
"Sorry, I’ve never done this before, does it hurt?"
"Can’t see my blood isn’t stopped yet?" The death row inmate snarled hideously, "Tighten the medical gauze first, are you stupid, can’t even do such simple moves!"
"Oh, oh, sorry... I." The boy with the young face lowered his head.
"I told you to hurry! Damn it, hurry!"
The death row inmate cursed and swore at the world with vicious language.
"Not qualified, try again." Jishilin spoke coldly. "No room for discussion this time."
The boy, already panicked, almost collapsed, his face pale as a sheet.
"I can’t do it, I can’t do it."
The third gunshot.
The death row inmate wailed in tears.
Freya and Xiaoliu simultaneously turned their heads with a sigh, while a few faint-hearted soldiers dared not watch anymore.
...
"Next."
"Kill me, please."
"Let me go..."
...
"Next."
"I killed many people, I killed many people. Don’t worry about me, do it!"
"...I will."
...
"Next."
"I’m sorry... I’m sorry, I didn’t want to do that either, I just want to survive."
"Don’t move!"
Freya forced herself to stay calm, gazing at her blood-stained hands. Her breath was unsteady as she instinctively looked around, her sight grazing past Xiaoliu, who noticed and gave her a look of encouragement.
She gritted her teeth. Being underestimated by a youngster not as tall as herself — she would never accept that!
Freya grasped the gauze randomly, bandaging before using all her strength to tighten it.
...
"Next." Jishilin’s indifferent tone like a reaper ticking names.
Every time the voice sounded, those remaining clutched their hearts, the soldiers not yet named restless, fearing they might be next.
Callings continued, the training session hadn’t ended yet.
Death row inmate: "..."
"I don’t want to know what you’ve done, sorry."
...
"Next."
Death row inmate: "..."
Soldier: "..."
...
As time ticked away, each second felt torturous.
Unknowingly, outside views in the tent had become shocking.
Later on, soldiers seemed to turn into silent, numb machines, mechanically repeating the previous actions after being named. During this time, the death row inmate fell into unconsciousness several times, forcibly awakened by Life Daylight.
Until everyone completed the training, two medical personnel carried the weak-breathing youth out.
This lesson was too burdensome for them. The harshness of the battlefield had become tangible. No one here preached the value of life or that everyone was equally free. The death row inmate was no longer a person but a medical tool for their training; they were not people either, but soldiers.
Confusion and fear spread across the soldiers’ faces, with no smoke or artillery here, yet the shadow of death was like a lady wielding a sharp scalpel, pressing its tip against their throats.
When it came to the real battlefield,
what would they become then?
Soldiers would no longer be soldiers but numbers on a casualty report.
Their kin would no longer be kin but mourners before a tombstone.
After the morning session ended, the soldiers were all taciturn.
Xiaoliu saw the young, similarly aged boy walk out of the tent, looking lost and muttering incessantly.
During lunch, Xiaoliu learned from those around him that the boy had committed suicide by the riverside.
