Du Zhanpeng ignored the presence of Du Peng and Qin Fen. Qin Fen, in turn, simultaneously ignored Du Zhanpeng. And Du Peng, who usually ignored everything, showed a rare sliver of interest in Du Zhanpeng today.

A strange atmosphere settled into a quiet tableau. Only the crackle of the leaping flames broke the silence.

Swish…

The bushes were parted again. This time, three figures emerged. Judging by their gear and coordination, they were raw recruits from the same faction.

The instant the three appeared, Qin Fen had already deduced from the sound of their movement that all three were likely Three-Star practitioners. In terms of individual combat prowess, they weren't exceptionally outstanding. However, their maneuvering and coordination revealed clear, practiced training; their tacit understanding was unusually strong.

War was not entirely a contest of brute force. Three individuals who coordinated seamlessly, coupled with solid personal strength, produced an effect that was far more than just double the sum of their parts.

On a real battlefield, Qin Fen would much rather face a Four-Star warrior alone than these three Three-Star recruits working in perfect sync.

Leading the way was the one whose sharp, monkey-like eyes darted about vigilantly. He was the weakest in terms of raw strength among the trio.

The recruit in the middle, utterly silent and wearing an expression as if everyone owed him eighty million credits, possessed the highest pure martial strength of the three. Observing his positioning and movements, he was likely the commander of this three-person squad.

The last member, a towering figure exceeding two meters, offered a guileless smile toward the four by the campfire: "You all arrived early. I thought we’d be the first ones here."

"Oh? A woman, too?" The man at the front of the trio was the first to spot the woman perched in the tree.

"Snakehead." The two-meter-tall recruit with the honest smile moved to the front of the group. "You spotted her a little late this time."

Snakehead, responsible for reconnaissance and assessing cultivation realms, offered no rebuttal, merely nodding seriously. "Big Stone is right. It’s my fault. Thankfully, this is a training exercise and not actual combat; otherwise, we might truly all be dead. We need to learn from this."

The silent one in the middle reached out and clapped Snakehead on the shoulder. Snakehead slapped his companion’s hand in return. "Mute. No need to console me. Not spotting them is not spotting them. There’s nothing shameful about it."

Qin Fen lifted a bowl of freshly ladled mushroom soup and gestured an invitation toward the three newcomers.

Big Stone, the two-meter giant, was the first to rise and approach Qin Fen. Snakehead and Mute followed shortly after.

"Thanks. We were starving." Snakehead took the mushroom soup, sniffing the aroma first. His eyes immediately brightened. "It seems the training recruits all have some tricks up their sleeves! So many varieties of fungi, all non-toxic, blending together not only deliciously but also very nutritiously. Impressive. Truly impressive."

Hearing Snakehead’s praise, Big Stone and Mute quickly blew on their steaming mushroom soup and noisily slurped the food down.

Qin Fen refilled a bowl for Du Peng before finally picking up his own serving of mushroom soup.

Looking at the three-person squad before him, he felt a strange overlap in his vision, a phantom image of himself alongside Inzarota and Lin Liqiang.

After five hours of waiting, other recruits began trickling into the gathering area.

The numbers swelled from the initial eight people to nearly one hundred.

These arrivals either came alone or as small squads. The later they arrived, the more pronounced the weariness on their faces.

The final few groups to arrive looked not only fatigued but also bore minor injuries tinged with blood, suggesting their journey hadn't been entirely peaceful.

As the crowd grew, the number of people congregating near Du Zhanpeng also increased.

Nearly twenty individuals clustered around him within this group of nearly one hundred, clearly establishing him as having the largest faction among them.

Big Stone looked at Du Zhanpeng’s circle with surprise. He quietly asked his companion, "Snakehead, who is this guy?"

"Du Zhanpeng. Son of General Du Yu of the East Asian Military Region." Snakehead whispered the explanation. "Don't think that just because the East Asian Region has many Generals, many of them hold real power. Du Yu is one of those Generals with actual authority, and you could say their Du family is a lineage of soldiers."

"Du Yu?" Big Stone looked momentarily puzzled. "A General? I haven't heard of him."

Snakehead didn't elaborate but instead asked, "Then what about Du Hen?"

"Du Hen?" Big Stone rolled his eyes back slightly. "You mean the General known as the King of Vipers, Du Hen?"

Snakehead seemed satisfied with Big Stone's reaction. He nodded slowly. "Exactly. Du Hen, the King of Vipers. Du Yu is that old man’s son. This General keeps a low profile; you’d have to be a military enthusiast like me to even notice this low-key commander. This Du Zhanpeng is Du Yu’s son."

Upon hearing his lineage introduced, Du Zhanpeng, who had been ignoring everyone, subtly puffed out his chest.

In the initial era of interstellar colonization, when humanity had just managed to completely conquer the Moon and establish large-scale settlements there, the commanding General stationed at the time had secretly plotted a rebellion to make the Moon an independent nation.

That rebellion failed to last a month before being crushed by the forces led by Du Hen, the King of Vipers.

His command style, as precise as a surgeon's scalpel, was still hotly debated by military enthusiasts to this day.

As Du Zhanpeng swelled with pride, Qin Fen felt the blood flow in the body of Du Peng beside him accelerate noticeably. A fierce light began to emanate from his usually cold eyes.

When the name Du Hen was spoken by Snakehead, Qin Fen distinctly sensed an aura of chilling killing intent enveloping Du Peng entirely.

Big Stone recovered his usual simple demeanor after his surprise. "Hmph! Who cares who he is. As long as I complete my mandatory service safely, I can go back to taking care of my old mother."

Snakehead also laughed. "That’s right. Work hard. When you retire, earn enough to improve your family's life—that's not bad either."

Mute, who never spoke, allowed a trace of warmth to cross his face.

"You little whelps—"

A coarse roar, like an exploding thunderclap, suddenly ripped through the ears of the hundred assembled men. Many who were chatting suddenly froze.

The man standing atop a low-lying structure appeared to be in his early forties, perhaps ten centimeters taller than Big Stone.

Weight-wise, Qin Fen estimated the broad-shouldered, burly soldier had to weigh at least 130 kilograms.

His blue eyes swept over every recruit. That piercing gaze made quite a few instinctively step back. Even those like Qin Fen who remained still felt the sensation of being scrutinized by a wild beast.

"Before you arrived, I heard they sent me elites. Unexpectedly." The middle-aged soldier shook his head in profound dissatisfaction. "Do you think this place is a junkyard? Sending me a bunch of trash that can’t even be recycled!"

Before arriving, everyone present had been the top talent in their respective barracks, and they had all arrived full of confidence. Hearing this instructor call them trash one after another visibly soured their expressions.

Qin Fen stifled a yawn out of sheer boredom. This psychological tactic of an intimidating welcoming—why did every instructor have to pull one? Did insulting others as trash make them feel more important?

"What? You’re unconvinced?" The instructor’s rough features twisted into a sinister grin, an indescribable terror in his look. "You all think you’ve got some skills?"

"Unconvinced! We are not trash!"

More than half of the recruits shouted in unison, their inner Zhenqi flowing wildly within their bodies, looking ready to swarm and beat the instructor together.

"Whether you are trash or not is not for you to decide," the instructor pointed at himself. "And it’s not for me to decide either!"

The recruits looked confused. Someone whispered quietly, "Then who decides?"

The instructor swung a fist nearly the size of a human head. "We are soldiers, and more importantly, we are men! Therefore…"

Thump!

The instructor produced a round iron box from behind him. "This contains numbers equal to your headcount. Every number has an identical counterpart. The people who draw matching numbers can negotiate amongst yourselves—whether to compete with fists or with other military skills. If both sides agree, the winner stays, and the losers are all relegated to the trash group."

"What if the two parties in the contest can never agree on what to compete in?" Someone in the crowd of recruits posed what everyone considered a very constructive question.

After all, not everyone who came here was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Some excelled in small-unit coordination, some were excellent marksmen, and others specialized in electronic warfare or piloting armored mechs. Everyone had different specialties, making the choice of competition usually unfair.

"Then you decide by Rock-Paper-Scissors! You all float around in the martial world; you can’t avoid getting cut; everyone knows how to play that, right?" The instructor gestured widely. "Use this to decide. The winner gets to choose the competition."

"Instructor, isn't this a bit too frivolous…"

"Nonsense! Luck is also a form of strength!"

Faced with this show of absolute authority, everyone could only temporarily accept the terms.

The drawing of lots finished quickly. Then, another recruit called out, "Instructor, I want to ask, where are our quarters?"

"Your quarters?" The instructor looked at the recruits as if they were idiots. He pointed a finger toward the surrounding treetops. "These woods—you can't rest in these woods? Did you come here for a vacation? There are no buildings here. If a venomous snake bites you to death in your sleep, that’s your own fault. Alright! Go find your numbers now."

Qin Fen held his number fifty-one and wandered around for a long time. After everyone else had paired up, he still hadn't found his opponent.

"Kid, you’re fifty-one?" The instructor’s eyes were alight with excitement.

Seeing the look on his face, Qin Fen guessed what had happened. He took two steps back and asked, "Is fifty-one an odd number? Are you my opponent?"