Chapter 1: Frightful Memories

  "Did you hear? The youngest captain was injured! He's currently lying in the emergency room!" A young nurse excitedly told another girl in a field hospital.

  "Cut! Your news is outdated, you know his girlfriend? The famous biochemist, she's already arrived in this danger zone and is now in the emergency room!" Another girl burst out with an even more astonishing inside story.

  Who in the field hospital doesn't know this perfect pair, the man is brave and good at fighting, the woman is talented and beautiful, they once became a bright landscape on the battlefield. But today, he's actually injured! Who is he?

  In the emergency room, the surgeon had stopped his busy work. The electrocardiogram beside him shook out wave after wave with the weak breathing of the man on the bed. On the spotless white bed, a man with tubes inserted all over his body gazed deeply at the woman behind the doctor.

  The man was already on the verge of death, with a young face and a pair of dark, experienced eyes. The snow-white towel that had just been covered was slowly seeping out a block of bright red, like a ferocious big mouth, mocking the darkness of the world and the once strong but now unsightly body under the quilt.

  The color slowly returned to the man's face, but a high dose of morphine could only temporarily alleviate his suffering. "I remember that year, I was probably eight years old..."

  ......

  The man's eyes gradually became hazy, his pale lips moved and he began to speak for the first time in his short life, also the last time...

  "Child, your family has all gone to another world, come and live with me from now on. From now on, you'll be my little grandson. Grandpa will raise you well, and one day you'll see your dad and mom again, sigh!"

  An old man with a head full of white hair was hugging a crying little boy and softly comforting him. The hoarse voice had a hint of fatigue that couldn't be hidden, what kind of world is this... The old man sighed to himself.

  "Alright... a man from the Ning family is not allowed to be a coward! Wipe away your tears! Follow me home!" Perhaps it was something that made the old man angry, or perhaps it was the child's whimpering cry that irritated him. The old man's tone also became harsher.

  In the corridor of the morgue, an old soldier with a head full of white hair almost dragged away a little boy with tears all over his face. Under the warm sunlight, only the half medal in the boy's hand was shining with a dazzling red light.

  Two years later, an old man wearing a washed and faded 85-style military uniform brought a tiger-headed boy to the Martyrs' Cemetery for sweeping.

  "Ning Wei, Grandfather is giving you a final chance to choose. You're seven years old now, and it's still the same two paths. If you can endure hardship, I'll train you into my best soldier, and ten years later, whether or not you want to take revenge will be up to you to decide. If you can't endure hardship, this year Hong Kong has also returned, and I can arrange a new identity for you in Hong Kong. You can start a new life there, and someone will take care of you until you're eighteen years old. The condition is that you'll never be allowed to return to the mainland for the rest of your life. Choose for yourself." In front of a tombstone, the old man asked the question he asks every year on Qingming Festival.

  "Grandfather, don't say anything else. Do you still remember what you said two years ago? I'm a man of the Ning family and can't be a coward. Please train me to be the best soldier, I want to take revenge, the debt of the Ning family, they can't afford it!"

  "Alright, alright! Good job! Remember your promise! Now, give me a military salute here! If you want to be the best soldier, you must have the bearing of one! From today on, no watching TV! No playing games! No slacking off! Practice hard for me!" The old man bellowed at the child in a stern tone, then turned around and got into the Red Flag limousine, completely ignoring the curious gazes from others.

  "Old brother, I hope this little guy won't let you down..." The old man muttered to himself, staring at the small figure in the rain.

  In the north, April still carries a lingering chill. Ning Wei's military posture has been standing for an hour. A seven-year-old child is still a bit tender, and the raindrops falling down have almost destroyed all his morale.

  Finally, with a "thud", Ning Wei fell onto the hard and cold cement ground, just like a spark thrown into gasoline. Ning Wei immediately sprang up like a carp jumping out of water, assuming the standard military posture of the Chinese People's Liberation Army. Under the rainwater's flushing, the blood flowing from his nose spread across his face like the bright five-star red flag, only to be washed clean by the rain again.

  The rain stopped, and the gloomy weather finally knocked down this little man who was destined to fight all his life. Ning Wei completely fainted. A guard not far away rushed over and carried him into the car.

  Staring at the child lying in bed with a persistent high fever, the old man meditated for a long time before finally picking up the satellite phone on the table. A short string of numbers was dialed, and as the small light on the satellite phone turned from red to yellow and finally to green, the old man pressed the dial button.

  "Old Song, help me raise a child and let your son train him personally. I want him to become the strongest mercenary." Before the other party could say anything, the old man hung up the line.

  Three days later, in Yunnan, a Mi-24 helicopter flew over the China-Vietnam border from Vietnam's jungle to pick up the child.

  Everything in life is full of variables, and the real hardships began like this. The helicopter finally landed at a secret military base less than two hundred kilometers from the Golden Triangle, where seven-and-a-half-year-old Ning Wei was kicked off. Before his dizzy brain fully cleared up, a man at least two meters tall carried him into a building similar to an office like a little chicken.

  "Alright, no matter what kind of relationship you have with the old man in my family, for ten years, at least you don't have to worry about dying. Within ten years, if you can't become the strongest in this base, then on the eleventh year, you won't be needed anymore." Behind the boss's desk, a burly man spoke lazily, his thick cigar turning into blue smoke rings in his mouth.

  The handsome man took a sip of his cigar and continued, "One last introduction, this is an existence similar to that of mercenaries. The soldiers in this base do not enjoy the Geneva Convention, human rights, or dignity. Every soldier here is a dog! A wild dog chasing after battles! From today on, you have no name, only the code 00439413. All items marked with 00439413 belong to you personally, of course, as long as you can protect them. Standing behind you is your instructor, code-named Wolf Head. Your training begins now!"

  Before Ning Wei could react, the so-called instructor behind him wanted to pick him up like a small chicken and take him out.

  "Alright! From today on, I am your instructor. Now, let me tell you some rules."

  After casually throwing Ning Wei into a pile of kids, the guy codenamed Wolf Head waved his hand holding the fierce tiger blade MT and roared fiercely, "Get up at 5:00 AM, 5:00-7:00 AM morning exercise, 5 km run, last place cancels breakfast. 7:00-7:10 AM breakfast, 7:15-10:00 AM cultural classes, 10:00 AM-12:00 PM 5 km run, last 15 places cancel dinner. 12:00-12:10 PM lunch, 12:15-8:00 PM physical training, 8:00-8:10 PM dinner, 8:15-10:00 PM firearms training. After 10:00 PM free activity, 10:30 PM rest. In one year's time, you little devils will each learn at least four foreign languages, Chinese not included. Tomorrow is the official start. Dismissed!

  A group of more than eighty big and small children were completely bewildered, is this their future? Just like the wasps raised by the Miao people, constantly killing or being killed, with a longing for the future, a group of children lost their curiosity and fell asleep early.

  At 5 am, a 100-square-meter dormitory was filled with tear gas that made it impossible to breathe. Children in disheveled clothes rushed out, only to be kicked back in. Those who hadn't made their beds were kicked back in. Those who had forgotten to put on their guns were also kicked back in. Five minutes later, a group of children with red and swollen eyes were finally allowed to escape, followed by the first 5-kilometer run.

  More than 80 children, the oldest is only ten years old, and the youngest is six years old. The sparse team finished five kilometers when breakfast was gone, lunch was continuing, so each person had a small piece of compressed biscuits to continue the second five kilometers. A day's time was consumed like this by two five-kilometer runs. No one shouted tired or hungry, because all the children fainted.

  The terror of the first day continued into every child's dreams, and on the second day it started again, still five kilometers, still no one could eat breakfast. The only difference was that when a child tried to threaten another child to carry his backpack, a bullet suddenly ended his nightmare-like five kilometers. Some people cried, some were so scared they fell down and couldn't get up. Others ran desperately, running to the front of the team, and as a result, he was rewarded with an extra whole compressed biscuit. His name was Ning Wei.

  As he gnawed on the biscuit that was basically bought with someone else's life, Ning Wei forgot his fear and guilt. He vowed to get breakfast tomorrow no matter what.

  The nightmare continued. On the third day, three children finally managed to rush out of their dormitory before tear gas smoke emerged and started running wildly. The five-kilogram load was magnified to a full five kilometers that could crush these children's thin shoulders. Three children barely ran past the finish line, while others still failed to complete it. What was different was that the last three no longer had to continue... The sound of bullets shooting into their throats was like the doomsday bell striking heavily in these children's minds. On the second day, eight children finished running five kilometers, and thus the last eight were deprived of the right to enjoy suffering... On the third day, it was sixteen people, on the fourth day, it was twenty people....

  In a large dormitory of more than eighty people, only forty survived. Every day they repeated the most basic and primitive pursuit like beasts.

  The cost of growth is always painful, a year's time has changed a lot, two 5km runs every day have become the easiest course, and everyone really masters at least four foreign languages, although most are used to ask about each other's female relatives.

  The final assessment has finally arrived, the content is simple yet difficult. Each person kills a companion, time is ten minutes, no weapons, no sound. Everyone solved the battle within five minutes, most of them had their necks twisted off, and one was kicked to pieces, then his trachea was kicked to pieces. The assessment came quickly and went quickly, the winner did not have flowers, and the losing side was directly sent for cremation, and the ashes were mailed to someone's hands.

  The man on the hospital bed began to tremble as he spoke, his ECG accelerating. But no one dared stop him, under the gaze of a group of people, he slowly inserted his right index finger into his mouth and bit it. Then, trembling, he drew an abstract wolf head on the snow-white quilt, a weak voice shaking out of his mouth, "No regrets, no regrets!" As if comforting himself, also as if telling the few listeners that in those most fearful days of his life, he had persevered strongly, he was the best!

  The last twenty people started a new course, with a new task added every day - hunting, each person had to provide at least 50KG of raw meat per day. The source of the raw meat was strictly limited to wild boars, tigers and pythons in the jungle. Every day someone got injured, maybe with fractures or open wounds, but who would care? Even if they were hurt, they had to endure it, because only during the free time after training could they treat their own injuries.

  The terrifying days didn't end until they were reduced to the last fifteen, and it wasn't until each child had acquired the most basic survival skills that things seemed to have just begun to reveal a corner of the iceberg. Perhaps from this time on, they could barely be called soldiers...