Fast forward a bit——to the training camp everyone wouldn't shut up about for weeks beforehand.
All of us cadets, from first‑year bronzes all the way to the polished top of Gold Class, were dumped into this rural backwater village, ringed by forest and damp morning fog that clung to the ground like a second skin.
The idea, they told us, was "growth through shared struggle."
What it felt like, honestly, was an excuse to make us beat the living shit out of each other under the watchful eyes of bored instructors who drank too much bitter tea.
From daybreak, the air smelled of wet dirt, sweat, and the tang of nervous tension.
Everyone was sizing each other up because in this training camp, year didn't matter and rank didn't matter as well. Out here, reputation only lasted until the first punch landed.
