Ignoring his colleague’s question mark, Sullivan calmly continued watching his teaching assistant ruthlessly critique the students.
Although the words contained no actual insults, merely reading out the other party’s scores in a rigid, deadpan tone, the invisible pressure and sense of humiliation were enough to crush the competitive spirit of any proud Alpha.
Seeing David cowed to the point where he didn’t even dare raise his head, the remaining Alphas instantly fell completely silent.
“‘It’s just military training.’ Is that what you’re thinking?” Anatoly turned off his optical computer. “Then in the future, it’ll be ‘It’s just a routine exercise,’ ‘It’s just a minor conflict,’ ‘It’s just a surprise raid.’”
“Would you be able to say those exact same words with a straight face to the victims of war?” Anatoly asked calmly. “‘It’s just one person dead, after all.’ Would you say that?”
The Alphas in the room, who had previously only lowered their heads out of coerced intimidation, finally fell into a heavy, contemplative silence.
They had applied to the Third Military Academy of Belon and fought hard to squeeze into the combat department because they naturally harbored ideals of defending their country. They had simply assumed this was a minor, insignificant exercise and hadn’t taken it seriously.
But hearing the silver haired Alpha put it this way, they suddenly realized they had lost the proper reverence expected of reserve military officers!
So what if it was just military training? From the moment they stepped foot into Belon University, weren’t they already walking the path of becoming soldiers?
Since that was the case, they should treat every single training session with absolute seriousness!
However, several Alphas scratched their cheeks. Why did that phrasing sound so oddly familiar?
“Now, everyone grabs your particle guns, download the AI assistance plugin, and practice continuously until the end of the marksmanship practical,” Anatoly announced coldly.
Chastised and filled with shame, the crowd instantly reignited their competitive drive, hurriedly picking up their rifles and putting on noise-canceling earmuffs to begin training.
Bo Tang also picked up a rifle, fixing his gaze on the target.
Since this was a collective training session, everyone had put on acoustic isolation earmuffs to prevent the gunfire of others from interfering with their concentration.
Bo Tang lowered his earmuffs just enough to leave a tiny gap, capturing the conversation of the two people behind him amid the chaotic din of gunfire.
Sullivan looked at Anatoly, who had just stepped down from the podium, with a half-smile. “You’re quite the teacher, Teaching Assistant.”
Anatoly’s expression didn’t change at all. “I skimmed General Ferdinand’s speech on the way here.”
Francis Ferdinand, a historically renowned general in the Avalon Empire, had delivered a stirring mobilization speech years before the Battle of Black Port, a battle that decided the empire’s fate.
Because its inspiring effect was exceptionally pronounced, a video of the speech had been recorded in history textbooks.
However, textbooks only recorded the most passionate climax of the speech, and most people weren’t very familiar with the opening.
When Bo Tang was reviewing world building lore in the detention center, he had naturally brushed past it, and what Anatoly had just recited was word for word the opening of General Ferdinand chewing out a few slacking soldiers.
Memorizing a historical speech?
A trace of amusement surfaced in Bo Tang’s eyes.
Sullivan laughed out loud. “You really something else.”
With a calm demeanor, Anatoly sent a file to Sullivan. “Remember to give my observation report a full score.”
Sullivan opened the file and casually glanced through it. “Hmm, boring legal documents… speech and conduct, violent behavior, wow, emotional behavior too?”
He let out a short, strange “Ha,” his tone bizarre. “Are these white robed freaks total perverts? Even holding hands and kissing have to be logged?”
Glancing at the expressionless Anatoly, Sullivan curled his lips. “Even if I give you a full score, it won’t change a thing. Do you really think those crows on the review board will believe table data? They’ll just claim the data was faked, speaking of which, I sometimes really wonder who you inherited this stubborn streak from, Iggy and Anas…”
He abruptly stopped himself.
Bo Tang was facing away from them, able only to hear the conversation without seeing their expressions.
Sharply sensing that this sudden pause seemed to involve some sensitive information, he refocused a portion of his mental energy.
After just a brief pause, Anatoly spoke up. “I know changing the review board’s impression won’t happen overnight, but we can at least start from now.”
Hearing that Sullivan didn’t comment on this, the other man fell silent for a moment before changing the subject. “Well, did you notice anything?”
Bo Tang thought with a hint of curiosity. Is Sullivan asking Anatoly who he was looking at?
Anatoly didn’t answer.
Just as Bo Tang was tensing a nerve to analyze what Anatoly’s silence meant, a cold voice rang out right beside his ear: “Why aren’t you firing?”
That strained thread of mental focus snapped instantly.
Bang!
Bo Tang furrowed his brows slightly.
He hadn’t concentrated on aiming and only scored 9.7 rings.
“You’re zoning out.” Anatoly reached out and pulled off one of Bo Tang’s earmuffs, accidentally messing up a few strands of hair by his temple.
Just now, he had noticed that Bo Tang was merely raising his rifle to aim without firing for a long time, which prompted him to come over and offer guidance.
Who would have thought this guy hadn’t even put his earmuffs on properly?
He glanced sideways at Bo Tang. “Don’t know how to wear them?”
Unsure whether the other person had noticed him eavesdropping, Bo Tang stared at his deadpan expression and slowly spoke, “Apologized.”
Anatoly lowered his eyes to look at the earmuff in his hand, and a moment later, raised his hands to cup both sides of Bo Tang’s head.
The chaotic and noisy sounds in his ears were instantly blocked out, as if he had been placed in the silent void of space. Bo Tang squinted slightly in mild discomfort.
Anatoly put the earmuff back on for him.
Perhaps because they were standing too close, a faint, lingering scent of fresh blood drifted into Bo Tang’s nostrils.
The finger resting on the trigger twitched abruptly.
Bo Tang’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second, but a moment later, he bit down hard on his lower lip to snap himself out of the abnormal surge of emotion.
Did my roommate get hurt? Judging by the scent, the wound still seems quite fresh.
He got hurt just going to handle the aftermath of a “car accident”? No wonder even though he covered up so much skin, the exposed parts still bore several faint, healed scars.
Bo Tang let his thoughts wander, forcing himself to shift his attention away from that trace of bloody scent.
He was almost successful.
But the next moment, that cold breath brushed against his cheek once again.
Enduring the itching sensation along his canine teeth, Bo Tang turned his head away.
There was no emotional change on Anatoly’s face. Seeming to know that Bo Tang couldn’t hear him at the moment, he mouthed the words. “Con-cen-trate.”
The pale lips shifted shapes with the words, faintly revealing the bright red, soft flesh inside the oral cavity.
Time slowed down infinitely in Bo Tang’s consciousness, and he stared intently at that spot.
Vibrant, soft, Bo Tang didn’t even need to imagine to know that the temperature there must be warm, contradicting the owner’s cold demeanor.
It was the temperature of life.
The finger hooked around the trigger tightened further and further, and the clamoring voice within his body grew wilder.
Just as his blood was about to reach a boiling peak, Bo Tang took a few heavy breaths and lowered his hand.
Anatoly looked at Bo Tang, his mouth opening and closing.
Bo Tang guessed he was either asking “What’s wrong?” or “Why did you stop?”
The faint scent of blood was still persistently creeping into his nostrils. Bo Tang raised a hand to remove his earmuff, his movement blocking the upper half of his face.
Deep within his pitch black eyes, a flash of blood red dark light flickered and vanished.
When Bo Tang lowered his hand again, his eyes had returned to a pitch black abyss.
He raised his optical computer to reveal the time displayed on it.
“It’s lunchtime.”
“I’m hungry, Senior.”
He smiled gently.
Even though everyone now knew Bo Tang was a Beta, his striking appearance and formidable strength still earned him countless invitations to lunch.
The highly competitive Alphas even began outbidding one another.
“I can take Your Excellency to Sigma Restaurant. Others have to book three months in advance, but I can get Your Excellency a table immediately.”
“I can take Bo Tang to the Sky Garden!”
“Do you guys even have the nerve to throw that out? I can take Bo Tang to the Sixth Princess’s banquet!”
“She’s just a disfavored princess. If Your Excellency Bo Tang agrees, I can take you to the First Prince’s concubine-selection ball two months from now!”
“I can…”
“I can…”
Seeing that the stakes were gradually straying far beyond the realm of lunch, the contested protagonist calmly stood up and walked away right in the middle of their fierce bidding war.
Naturally having no interest in watching a bunch of rooster’s peck at each other’s feathers, Anatoly also pushed open the door and left.
Bo Tang had already walked a short distance. From afar, Anatoly saw him glance somewhat vexed at the sun while nibbling on a small spoon.
The unusually pale person’s lips were exceptionally rosy, at this moment looking almost overly red, as if stained with something.
Anatoly’s gaze shifted to the small jar in the other’s hand, his superior eyesight sharp enough to clearly make out the red contents inside.
Yogurt?
Just eating yogurt for lunch was enough?
Anatoly frowned and was about to step forward when Sullivan’s voice came from behind him. “Anatoly.”
Anatoly stopped in his tracks.
“What?”
“Need to talk to you about something. Let’s head to the soundproof room.” Sullivan glanced briefly at the direction Anatoly was staring at. “What is it, are you waiting for someone?”
“No.”
Anatoly took one last look toward the northwest direction, where that black haired figure was no longer visible.
“Let’s go.”
The Northwest Direction.
Bo Tang tried his best to stick to the shade of the trees, and the sunglasses returned to his face.
If he weren’t afraid of drawing excessive attention, he would have loved to carry an umbrella right now.
He touched the surface of his skin, it wasn’t too hot yet. If the afternoon practical session was also indoors, it should be enough to last until today’s training ended.
The yogurt in his hand was only a tiny jar, and by the time Bo Tang reached his destination, he had finished the last of it.
Stashing the yogurt container into his spatial button, Bo Tang stepped into the building and, guided by the architectural schematic, located the computer room.
After explaining his identity and purpose to the instructor in charge, and enduring the instructor’s sympathetic and regretful gaze, Bo Tang genuinely and deeply reminisced about the days when he was still back on Earth.
Back then, he was a billionaire.
And now…
His sole fixed asset in the world was left as this physical shell.
It was about time to consider how to make money. Bo Tang seriously pondered what he could possibly do in this era.
The empire’s attitude was still ambiguous, he was certain he was still under the invisible surveillance of the law enforcers, but he didn’t know how long their vigilance would last.
Meanwhile, his public identity was currently an fragile, amnesiac Beta, which narrowed his choices down to almost nothing.
At least for the short term, he couldn’t use any abilities that would expose his true identity to make a profit.
Ah, it really had been a long time since he found himself in such a helpless state of impasse.
Bo Tang rested his chin in his hand, his index finger tapping lightly against his cheek.
However,
He had successfully crawled out of a hell made of mountains of corpses before.
Surely this couldn’t be any harder than that.
A smile curved his lips.