"That's so you, so anti-optimistic. Let's go before they realize we're missing.">^<
"Aye aye, captain" >.<
…
In the room, as they sneaked into their bed. Both panting due to the chase.
"Haha, that was fun, wasn't it, John?"
"It was…" that was the most fun I had in a long time… In a very long time. "'I'm tired."
"We have got morning from. You forgot that?"
"Huh?!"
"Yep. The horns are about to go." And on time, the horns rang. Waking up everyone in the camp. "You know the drill."
We got up, doing drills. Firing drill, Squad Assault, reaction to Ambush, and room clearing. It was simply due to my experience in the nightmare; the lack of sleep didn't affect me. We had one drill left. The combat drill. Before it, they gave a break to wash up and rest because they're doing something special.
"Yo, Jason. Do you know what they're doing?" I asked, sipping a cup of water.
His answer was simple: he didn't know. "Mhmm," I couldn't help but think it was strange. A mission where death awaits our visits and nobody's worried? Where will we go, and what is the reward?
"John, what if it's like a tournament? Now wouldn't that be cool?!" Jason said with delight, as he hugged me. "If it is, let the best man win!"
The statement itself was satire. It was obvious who would win, especially with our exchange from last night. He was basically calling himself the best man. "Ha! If you say so, Jason…"
"Was it me? Or did you say that suspiciously?.."
"Just you."T-T.
"Ah…"
After some time, we were all called back. The instructors explain to us that the mission would be of life and death, an island where monsters lie. Armies of men and nations fear.
In this 2-year programme, we would be trained for combat and scouting. So it's a survey mission. Since it was a mission without any commanding officer in the field, we would need to choose among our peers.
"And a single unbiased way to do that is a tournament, right?"
I asked. It was simple, with the information they had given me.
We are trainees, and to them, disposable. None of us has any sort of rank or significance…
The instructor with pale blue eyes, his most distinguished feature. Asked— "Why do you think that?"
"We have no rank. And as we are right now, we're equal."
The instructor seemed taken aback. Where it be my reasoning or my demeanor?
"You are right…" He seemed to smile before directing his focus to the group. " I'm sure you heard him! it will be a series of 1 verse 1. The top 7 will be assigned as field commanders."
"John, that was some good reasoning. How did you know?"
Jason whispered.
"Because of you. How did you know it was a tournament?"
"I didn't. It was just a wish." He didn't know…either way.
"Ah, I just put the piece together."
After our little conversation, Jason and a guy called Michael were matched.
They both slowly made their way to instruction. Both respectful. Jason seemed to be 6'2, he was well built and had black hair with a grey patch at the front. Contrary to him, Michael was small, maybe 5'7, and lean. He had long hair, tied in a bun.
"Ok, guys. After 3, you go." ~ "Yes, Sir!"
"1"
"2"
"3!!!"
Michael leaped at Jason, throwing a fury of kicks, which Jason easily dodged. Michael was fast, the style was beautiful too.
His sweeping kicks, too. But it wasn't long before Jason caught his foot. Throwing him to the ground.
After that, the matches were simple. I would see some amazing techniques here and there. One was from Tim, who looked average. But a jab that starts as a chop then turns into a fist for speed and strength.
Eugene used a style called Wing Chun. He blocked all his opponents with an open palm. Although those were the only good techniques. Others would use their Superior physical abilities. Strength, speed, endurance. Jake and Arc were those
Who did.
While it was my turn. I wanted to try those techniques. They looked like they were having fun, and I wanted it too. I put my guard ready for the attack. He moved, he flung a few punches.
They were fruitless, with each block. I tried the offensive move with the chop fist. It was blocked, and my hand hurt. I went with a couple of kicks, which landed.
It was weird. This sensation wasn't it. It was boring.
"Hey? Not to be disrespectful.. But is this the best you've got?"
After my statement, a bomb went off. The other trainees told me I was disrespectful, that I was cold, and that it wasn't needed. Jason even said, "Dude, it kinda was."
"Come on, Jason… You know I didn't mean it like that."
"Sure.."
Even the instructor seemed a little dissatisfied with my statement. In the moment that I was distracted, I was attacked. Two of his hits connected.
"Ouch." The guy was furious. I guess it was fair? But he didn't need to take it so seriously. "Yo– "Shut it." He wasn't even strong or fast.
I told him to stop— "I don't want to hurt you, and if you keep going like this, it will be painful."
"I don't care."
His answer was clear, and I should respect that. I grabbed his leg, flipping him and his backside. And like that, it was done.
The 7 who became field commanders were Tim, Ace, Jack, Jason, Eugene, me, and Paul.
We now had to be trained separately. For Tactical and commanding exercise. How to give orders and respond to secret codes. It was just annoying, and just like that, in the snow of winter. Our training was done.