Chapter 6: Mangosteen
Six in the morning.
The bugle call ripped through the morning mist hanging over the company grounds.
The dirt of the training field was frozen hard, crunching under every step.
Gu Ye stood at the very rear of the formation.
A heavy tactical vest wrapped his torso, a Type 95 rifle slung across his shoulder.
Two thick canvas straps cinched a military-green metal medical box against his back.
The box was packed full of splints, saline, hydrogen peroxide, and emergency medical instruments.
A full thirty jin.
The straps bit into Gu Ye's collarbones, pressing out two deep red welts.
He rolled his neck, still not used to the weight.
A raw ache spread across his collarbone skin where the canvas rubbed.
Company Commander Qian Qiang stood at the front of the formation.
A black stopwatch pinched between his fingers.
The morning cold had turned his cheeks red.
His gaze swept over the heads of dozens of recruits and nailed itself onto Gu Ye.
That bizarre fight yesterday had kept him up all night.
He refused to believe it.
A medic who took temperatures for colds—could his fitness really be heaven-defying?
A thirty-jin box plus gear, running five kilometers.
The road was all pitted yellow earth and gravel.
If I don't make you puke, I'll write my name backwards.
"All of you!"
Qian Qiang ripped his voice out.
The shout echoed across the training field.
"Right turn! Target: the five-kilometer cross-country track on the back hill!"
"Double time—march!"
The whistle pierced the cold air.
Over a hundred recruits surged onto the yellow dirt road like ducks out of a gate.
The first five hundred meters, the formation held together well enough.
Rubber boots stamped the yellow earth, kicking up choking clouds of dust.
Gu Ye jogged slowly at the very back.
The box slammed against his back with a clang-clang.
But thirty jin was far too light for him now.
The [Superhuman Physique] he'd fused yesterday worked like a never-drying water pump.
Every heartbeat pumped massive amounts of oxygen into his muscles.
The muscle fibers in his legs were steel cables, full of elasticity.
He didn't feel tired—just felt the box was a bit lumpy against his back.
The metal corner caps knocked against his shoulder blades.
He reached back and tugged the canvas straps, adjusting to a comfortable position.
One kilometer in.
The recruits' breathing started to roughen.
Their strides fell out of sync.
The ones in front were panting; the ones behind began to drop off.
The dirt road turned rough and uneven.
Chen Dabai ran ten meters ahead of Gu Ye.
This rich kid usually dreaded hardship most—his thighs were thick as pillars.
Now, with a rifle on his back, his tongue was practically hanging out.
"Ye-ge…" Chen Dabai looked back, face caked in dirt.
He gasped for air, his throat wheezing like a bellows.
"You gonna make it? How about I… I carry that box for you for a bit?"
Chen Dabai figured Gu Ye had saved his life yesterday—he owed him.
The words had barely left his mouth when his foot caught on something and he nearly pitched into the ditch by the road.
Gu Ye looked at Chen Dabai's wobbling legs.
"Mind your own business."
Gu Ye picked up his cadence.
Not a sprint—just stretching his formerly lazy stride longer.
He lightly overtook Chen Dabai.
Not even a breeze stirred as he passed.
Chen Dabai stood frozen, watching Gu Ye's receding back, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva mixed with yellow dirt.
Two kilometers in was a big uphill slope.
This was the recruits' hell gate.
The grade was nearly thirty degrees.
The formation completely fell apart.
The long column became a broken game of Snake.
Recruits bent at the waist, hands pressed hard on their knees, shuffling up step by step.
Sweat washed the yellow dirt on their faces into mud.
Rifle slings bit into the flesh of their shoulders, burning with pain.
Qian Qiang sat in an open-top jeep.
The vehicle crawled along beside the formation in first gear.
The exhaust pipe puffed black smoke.
He held a tin megaphone in his hand.
"Run! Did none of you eat?!"
"This little bit of ability—on a real battlefield you'd all be prisoners!"
Having finished yelling, Qian Qiang turned to look for Gu Ye at the back of the formation.
He was waiting to see this medic sprawled by the roadside like a dead dog, puking sour water.
He looked around. No sign of him.
"Commander…" The driver-signaler pointed ahead.
His voice wavered, and the finger he was pointing with was trembling.
"The medic's at the very front."
Qian Qiang whipped his head around.
At the top of the slope, against the rising sun.
A figure with a massive medical box on his back was climbing at a steady pace.
His stride was shockingly long, his rhythm steady as a mechanical watch.
Gu Ye was running at the very front of the entire company.
Not only had he not fallen behind—he'd opened up a full thirty meters on second place.
Qian Qiang stood up, one hand braced on the jeep's windshield.
The stopwatch creaked in his grip.
"Did this kid eat stimulants?"
He watched Gu Ye charge up the top of the slope.
Light as an antelope clearing hurdles.
That thirty-jin medical box on his back might as well have been an empty shell stuffed with cotton.
Three kilometers.
Four kilometers.
Gu Ye was still running out front.
No explosive sprint—just that despair-inducing steady pace.
Qian Qiang stared hard at Gu Ye's chest.
No erratic heaving, no open-mouthed breathing.
All deep nasal breaths.
This kind of cardiopulmonary endurance didn't belong to a human.
What was worse—the recruits' morale had collapsed.
Chen Dabai finally dragged himself up the slope, feeling like his lungs were about to burst.
He looked up to see how far the finish line was.
In his line of sight ahead, Gu Ye was running unhurriedly.
And—Gu Ye's hand had pulled something out from under the hem of his camouflage uniform.
A gleaming stainless steel thermos.
Gu Ye kept his steady pace.
One-handed, he unscrewed the lid.
Brought the cup to his lips and tilted his head back.
Chen Dabai rubbed his eyes, which were glued shut with sweat.
He hadn't seen wrong.
Gu Ye was drinking water.
A wisp of steam rose from the cup's mouth, along with a few plump red goji berries.
"Holy shit…"
Chen Dabai's legs gave out and he plopped down onto the yellow dirt.
The rifle smashed onto his leg with a sharp pain, but he didn't care.
"What's the point of running anymore?!"
Not just Chen Dabai.
The seven or eight recruits who caught up behind him all stopped dead.
They felt like the humiliation they'd suffered in their entire lives combined didn't add up to today.
A group of combat soldiers who called themselves the company's elite.
Lapped by a medic carrying a thirty-jin medical box.
The guy could even lead the pack while leisurely drinking hot water.
"On your feet!"
Qian Qiang's jeep rolled up, and he kicked the door.
"Left that far behind by a guy who treats colds—you've got the nerve to breathe?"
Qian Qiang shouted himself hoarse.
But he was feeling uncertain inside too.
Eight years in the military, he'd trained countless top performers.
Never seen this kind of monstrous physical fitness.
Even if you pulled an assault operator from the military region's special brigade, carrying thirty jin over five kilometers—there was no way they'd drink water while running without choking.
The last five hundred meters.
The finish line was the flat ground in front of the company mess hall.
Gu Ye screwed the thermos lid back on and stuffed it into his pocket.
He picked up his pace slightly.
Superhuman Physique left him with no sense of fatigue, but he didn't want to show off too much.
So he deliberately opened his mouth and faked a couple of heavy pants.
Unfortunately, his acting was terrible—he couldn't even squeeze out a single drop of sweat.
He crossed the white chalk line of the finish.
Gu Ye stopped.
He unstrapped the heavy medical box and set it on the ground with a thud.
He found a thick old locust tree nearby.
Walked over and sat down at its roots.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, landing right on his face.
Gu Ye closed his eyes and enjoyed the rare peace.
Drill over—finally, a chance to rest.
Five minutes later, the main body of troops trickled across the finish line.
The recruits sprawled every which way, like a pile of salted fish drained of all moisture.
Dry heaves and ragged gasps filled the area in front of the mess hall.
Qian Qiang jumped down from the jeep.
Face dark, he checked the stopwatch.
Gu Ye's time: exactly twenty minutes.
Carrying thirty jin over a muddy dirt road.
Throw that result into the whole army's competitive trials and it'd place directly.
Qian Qiang glanced at Gu Ye, eyes closed and resting under the tree.
His back molars ground together.
Where the hell did this freak come from?
"Almost there! Sprint! Last fifty meters!"
An old squad leader at the finish line waved and shouted.
A few lagging recruits were gritting their teeth and charging for the white chalk line.
One of them, a skinny recruit, had his eyes rolled white.
He was moving forward purely on muscle inertia.
Ten meters from the finish.
His right foot caught on a protruding cobblestone.
No buffer at all.
The skinny recruit pitched forward and slammed down.
Riiip—
The knees of his camouflage uniform shredded instantly.
Both knees smashed hard into the gravel-strewn packed dirt.
The massive friction tore away a layer of skin and flesh.
"Ah—!"
The skinny recruit clutched his legs, rolling on the ground.
A piercing scream tore from his throat.
Yellow dirt mixed with blood, dyeing his pant legs dark red in an instant.
In the curled-back flesh at his knees, the pale white edge of a kneecap was even visible.
Several old soldiers rushed over.
"Hold him down! Don't let him move!"
"Where's the medic? Where's the medic?!"
Under the old locust tree.
Gu Ye, who had been resting with eyes closed, snapped his eyes open.
He wasn't looking at the screaming recruit.
He was staring dead at the blue system light screen that had suddenly popped up in the air.
A line of golden text flickered on the screen.
[Detected: injured personnel in the vicinity meeting combat-damage repair standards.]
Gu Ye shot to his feet.
He licked his dry lips, staring hard at that bloody, mangled knee.
This was no injured recruit.
This was a steaming hot, delivered-to-his-doorstep system experience pack.