"Forty-four... forty-five... forty-six..."
On the other side of the field, Sarah lay flat on the ground, knees bent, hands behind her head. With each count, she forced her upper body up from the ground before lowering herself back down, repeating the motion in a continuous cycle.
A girl her age was pressing down on her legs, counting softly as Sarah rose and fell. But the girl's face was painted with shock.
Sweat poured from Sarah's body, soaking her hair and clothes. Her face flushed from exertion, her breathing grew ragged, and her body began to tremble involuntarily. Yet she gritted her teeth and pushed through.
When the count reached fifty, Sarah completed her final rep and collapsed onto the mat beneath her like a deflated balloon. She gasped for air, chest heaving violently.
"You're... you're amazing! You're the first girl I've seen complete all the exercises!"
Only after Sarah finished did the girl holding her legs snap out of her daze. Her eyes shone with admiration.
She raised her hand high and called out to a Black instructor nearby who was holding a clipboard: "Sir! Over here!"
The instructor had already noticed them. Before the girl even finished speaking, he strode over and asked without preamble:
"Name."
"Sarah."
The instructor flipped through the roster on his clipboard and quickly found Sarah's row. Every column except "sit-ups" was already checked off. This was somewhat surprising.
Considering the physical differences between males and females, girls' training quotas were lower—but not by much. In three days, this was the first girl he'd seen complete every requirement. And she was only thirteen.
Still, he didn't make a big deal of it. He simply marked a check in the sit-ups column and told the girl lying on the mat: "Good work. Your training is complete for today. You can either stay and move around freely or leave."
Hearing this, the surrounding students turned to look at Sarah with a mixture of envy and jealousy.
Sarah struggled up from the mat, feeling the ache in her arms, waist, and abdomen. Her legs were sore too, though not as badly—she'd been training them for a while now.
"Th-thank you, sir!" She forced a smile at the instructor, then slowly stepped aside to make room for others. She was about to find somewhere to sit when a figure suddenly appeared beside her, steadying her hunched form and pressing a water bottle into her hands.
"What's wrong? Feeling that bad?"
Recognizing the familiar presence, Sarah immediately leaned against him, letting her full weight rest on his body. "It's... okay," she said weakly. "Just need to rest a bit."
As Sarah leaned into him, Bryan naturally wrapped an arm around her. Seeing her eyes closed and hearing her soft groans of discomfort, he felt a pang of sympathy. He brought the bottle to her lips. "Here. Drink some water."
The water came from a nearby supply station. It was cold—not because he didn't want warm water, but because Americans simply didn't have the habit of drinking hot water. There wasn't even a kettle to be found.
Bryan didn't quite understand this, but since everyone else drank it, he'd adapted. At first, it had been uncomfortable—though supposedly safe to drink, cold water settling in his stomach never felt as comforting as warm water. But he'd gradually gotten used to it.
Sarah slowly opened her mouth. Seeing the bottle near her lips, she didn't reach for it. Instead, she tilted her head slightly.
Bryan shook his head with a wry smile. Understanding her perfectly, he raised the bottle and slowly tilted it, letting the water flow out.
Gulp... gulp...
Her throat bobbed as Sarah swallowed the water bit by bit. Her parched lips moistened immediately. After drinking, she licked her lips and finally felt some relief.
After walking around briefly, they found a spot on the bleachers and sat down. The field was packed with people—despite the freezing temperatures, everyone's face was drenched in sweat.
"Ahh! I'm exhausted!"
The moment she sat down, Sarah felt her entire body relax. She went limp, half-leaning against Bryan, and complained: "This training is torture!"
Then, as if remembering something, she turned her head. "Did you notice? Everyone on this field—except the instructors—is under sixteen. I even asked around. The oldest ones are only fifteen. Do you know why?"
"Hm? Since when do you care about things like that?"
Bryan was surprised by her question. He knew Sarah's personality—she wasn't the type to concern herself with such matters. That she was asking now genuinely piqued his curiosity.
"I didn't notice it myself. Lulu told me."
Sensing the question in his tone, Sarah explained: "When she first came to this school, she saw lots of older kids. But during class assignments, they were taken somewhere else and just... disappeared. She never saw them again. That's why I was curious."
"Lulu?"
"Oh! The girl who was holding my legs during sit-ups!"
"Ah..."
Bryan unconsciously rubbed his chin, turning his gaze toward the field to search for the girl who had been helping Sarah.
He was curious whether she had shared this information with Sarah intentionally or casually—and what her purpose might be.
"Well?"
Sarah waited a while without hearing Bryan respond. Puzzled, she lifted her head from his shoulder and found him staring blankly into the distance, clearly lost in thought.
This annoyed her at first. But then the corners of her lips curved upward, mischief sparkling in her eyes. She suddenly grabbed his arm and gazed up at him with big, watery eyes, her voice turning coquettish:
"Come on~! Tell me~!"
The sudden embrace jolted Bryan back to reality. When he turned and saw Sarah's expression, heard that sweet, pleading tone—his face immediately flushed red, his heart pounding unexpectedly. He actually stammered: "Wh-what are you doing?! L-let go!"
"Ahaha~~!"
Seeing Bryan so flustered for the first time, Sarah couldn't hold back any longer. She burst into unrestrained laughter, tears even forming at the corners of her eyes.
Hearing her uninhibited laughter, Bryan merely shot her a sidelong glance. He immediately realized he'd been played. But he wasn't angry—he just sat there quietly, waiting for her to finish.
"..."
After laughing alone for a while without any response from Bryan, Sarah found she couldn't continue. Like a frost-wilted eggplant, she deflated. Pouting, she muttered: "You're no fun at all..."
"I don't know the exact reason, but I can make some guesses."
Seeing Sarah's laughter subside, Bryan leaned back, hands on the seat, and finally answered her earlier question.
"The Atlanta QZ is probably in a very weakened state right now—otherwise, they wouldn't have called for reinforcements from other zones. But when we came in this morning, I observed the checkpoints along the way. Each one had over a dozen soldiers guarding it. So their military strength isn't weak—they might even have soldiers to spare. The weakness must be in civilian population. This QZ is probably severely short on labor, which is why all residents are required to work daily."
"During our lunch break, I pieced together some information. Besides clearing a path for the incoming support convoys and the upcoming QZ maintenance tasks, the military probably won't be engaging in any large-scale conflicts with Infected outside. At most, they'll send out scavenging teams."
"Without any opposing forces, the soldiers inside the QZ shouldn't suffer major casualties."
"With an excess of soldiers, the QZ definitely won't be recruiting students from the school to enlist in the next few years. Those seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds are relatively old compared to us. The QZ urgently needs specialized personnel but can't afford to let them spend five or six years studying complex subjects."
"But they can't just use them as ordinary laborers either. So my guess is they were taken somewhere specialized to learn skills that can be picked up quickly and are in high demand. After all, the support convoys are about to arrive—probably tens of thousands of people. The ordinary labor shortage will be solved eventually. What the QZ really lacks is specialized talent. Basically, the military's current strategy for school students is quality over quantity."