Ammon's Great Adventure (25)

Ammon's first night after leaving home passed in such calm and peace. Though he had kept his nerves taut the entire time, he had not actually suffered any attack.

It was only when the morning light shone beneath the bridge that Ammon felt as though he had been hit hard, because every inch of his body ached.

Yesterday's weighted cross-country run had not come without a price. Although Ammon had trained properly these past days and had avoided terrifying consequences like rhabdomyolysis, waking up sore and aching the next day had been unavoidable.

Fortunately, Ammon's body was still young, and this condition would usually clear up in two or three days. But Ammon did not have two or three days to recover.

Forcing himself off the concrete floor, which had only been covered by a single bedsheet, through sheer willpower, Ammon folded the sheet and stuffed it into his backpack before setting off again. This time, however, his steps were anything but light, and his short little legs trembled uncontrollably with every step.

"This kid's got real potential!" the man seated before the monitors in the conference room said, his eyes shining. But when he considered that the child's background might be problematic, he could only shake his head helplessly.

"Yeah. Forget kids—some new recruits came through my unit before, and after standing at attention for a few days, some of them couldn't take it anymore!" the military representative beside him said with feeling, though his eyes held an unmistakable gravity.

He found it difficult to imagine what kind of brutal training a seven-year-old child would have had to undergo to possess such willpower.

"Keep watching. This child's appearance alone is highly suspicious, but as long as we follow him, we'll definitely get answers." The Head of the Major Crimes