Volume 1, Chapter 18 – Training with the Angry Sergeant and Waiting for Guests
The next day.
"Recruit! You wanna die or live?" the AFV Officer shouted, standing in the center of the clearing and pushing me to keep running laps.
I'd just woken up and asked him to make me exercise. He took it... specifically. Now his name is Angry Sergeant. And I'm running shirtless, bare-chested, around him, drenched in sweat and with soreness from yesterday.
"No!" I shouted.
"I can't hear you, RECRUIT!"
"NO, SIR!" I yelled, straining through heavy breaths.
This was already the twentieth lap. The clearing isn't big — about the radius of a semi-truck with a trailer. But the ground made it worse. It was beaten up by everything imaginable: yesterday a bunch of officers had trampled it, various helicopters, and of course the massive C-130 Hercules, which left deep ruts from its landing gear.
"Halt!" the Angry Sergeant said with satisfaction, flipping his rifle from hand to hand.
I managed to stop in ten steps and immediately collapsed to the ground. My legs were like jelly, my mouth was dry, my back hurt worse than yesterday. I can't!
I fell flat on the cold ground. Good... My whole back was cooling down like an oven, turning this lying down into bliss.
"As my uncle used to say," the Sergeant walked toward me, rhythmically tapping his rifle, "falling isn't defeat. It's changing exercises!" He loomed over me. "RECRUIT! We're under attack! Drop and give them fire!"
He shoved the rifle into my hands.
(What? Under attack?)
I started looking around frantically, forgetting about the pain. But wait... He doesn't have an uncle.
"But..."
"Cancel that! Hesitation is death!" He clicked the pistol near my temple. "Thinking — click. Being afraid — click."
I froze in fear as the cold metal touched the pulsing veins at my temple. Each dry click made my whole body clench into a single point.
Click.
"Enough..." I said quietly, unable to withstand the pressure and the burning metal.
"Yes, sir!" AFV put away the pistol and stood at attention. "Permission to explain why this type of training was chosen?"
I was surprised at how this massive guy with bear paws stood perfectly straight, like in formation, staring down at me.
"Go ahead..." I struggled to get up. The fear instantly faded, returning all the pain in waves.
"First of all, before strengthening the body, you need to strengthen the spirit. A person without a strong soul won't become strong. Won't have enough perseverance!" the giant explained.
(So I'm weak in spirit... That makes sense. Fine, not about that.)
"At ease... Do you actually have an uncle?" I said, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.
"Nah. Just happened to fit. Any wisdom is passed from hand to hand," AFV explained thoughtfully.
(Just happened to fit? They act like people... And that's surprising. They obey me instantly. Is that bad or good? I don't know.)
(And who is AFV anyway? What does he do? Lelik — AA — handles army aviation. But AFV?)
"What's under your command?" I asked sincerely, picking up a canteen from the center of the clearing. I started drinking greedily.
"Total of one hundred and fifty units of equipment — from tanks to transport tractors," he explained.
I choked on the water. (One hundred and fifty units of equipment...)
(How tall would that be if stacked on top of each other?) — that was the first question that came to mind.
I sat down on the cold ground and enjoyed the breeze.
"Show me something from that?" I asked. Lelik showed me, probably, his entire fleet. Why not check out something else?
"Right away."
He disappeared — and in front of me appeared a massive sand-colored tank. Well, it looks like a tank: barrel, tracks, turret.
"Presenting the M109A7 Paladin. Self-propelled howitzer," he explained, standing on top of it.
That didn't mean anything to me. But it looked massive and intimidating. Entirely desert-colored, on heavy tracks, pressing down the already beaten earth. A large bulky turret with all sorts of things on it: from canisters with antennas to a platform resembling a ship's crow's nest.
"Climb up!" AFV shouted from the top. "There's a machine gun here. We can shoot."
(Machine gun? My pain evaporated, and I was already climbing onto this metal giant through the front.)
"Permission to report?" the Recon Officer said monotonously from below.
I flinched at that monotone voice. I'd already forgotten about the regular Soldiers. Just one night and a day without him made me forget all those faceless Soldiers. And he appeared right when I'd reached the machine gun and was ready to shoot up the remaining forest.
"Report," AFV jumped down from the SPG, standing in front of the Soldier.
I watched them from the turret, touching the cold metal that hadn't yet warmed up in the sun. The smell carried that familiar spirit of "new" equipment. As if this SPG had just arrived from the factory.
"Group spotted. Distance — five kilometers. Count — fifty. Type — riders. Movement — toward headquarters. Banner indicates the kingdom of Duke Yanski Malevych. Leading the group are two commanders. Known: Alon, and a woman — no data on her," the Recon Officer reported in a dead voice, without hesitation.
"What's the decision, Commander?" AFV turned to me. "Status? Friendly? Hostile? Maybe... blow them up?"
(What? A group of fifty? What? Wait. What do you mean "blow them up"?)
"Cancel the blowing up!" I climbed clumsily off the tank. "And where is everyone?"
"They went, so to speak, into your 'pocket.' And AA could be anywhere," he guessed. And as soon as I got off the equipment, it disappeared.
(So they can disappear on their own, like the faceless Soldiers do when I order them? And what's in that "pocket"? What are these fifty soldiers, and why are they coming to me in such a big group? Did the duke not like the gift, or does he want to demand more ammunition — since I only gave one bullet and the pistol as a gift?)
I looked around. The clearing was no longer the same — it looked like tractors had plowed it, preparing the ground for planting, but they'd done it in a storm, each in a different direction.
But in any case, even if they went into the "pocket," that's partly good. Fewer people for these riders to stare at. But what's in the pocket?
"What's this 'pocket'?" I still couldn't hold back and walked up to the giant.
"Imagine a hangar where all the equipment is stored — from a pickup truck to an aircraft carrier. Four hundred and fifty units. That's the pocket. All your property is there: from ammunition to the nuclear warhead," the giant explained calmly.
(Four hundred and fifty units of equipment... Four hundred, and it's all in some hangar. That must be worth a couple billion... And it can appear here at any moment. Frightening and awe-inspiring.)
I look at this clearing and realize it's only seen the tip of the iceberg.
"How much is all this worth? About two billion?" I decided to sound confident and name a number that was already beyond my comprehension.
"Yeah. Two billion in there. Plus another sixty. Heh!" the giant adjusted his belt.
Now it didn't sound like "billion" — it sounded like "dude, a LOT of money was spent on this." I can't imagine what sixty-two billion is. I've never even heard of anyone spending that much in my life. And I got it basically for free? Or was the price my death? I don't know... I'd like to know why that God decided to give me this.
"Got it. Forget it. Can I call you Paladin?" I offered him a name. Since he commands some kind of... paladin?
"Of course. Speaking of which, the group has already crossed the two-kilometer mark. What's the plan?" Paladin asked, heading toward the fort.
(Well, for starters, I should probably put my shirt back on. Meeting fifty riders shirtless isn't ideal.) I also headed to the fort, picking up the rifle Paladin had given me at the start of training.
—
List:
— Get into sports (started)
— Buy or build my own house
— Start some kind of business
— Find a partner
— Plant a tree
— Learn a new craft
From this world:
— Try to learn magic
— (NEW) Befriend the duke