Jiang Yue

Sirius Star System, Cloud Mountain Star.

The star's radiance was blotted out.

Jiang Yue lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the helmet's one-way glass. What he saw was not the sky, but a swarm of interstellar warships as dense as locusts.

Those colossal black vessels hung silently above the clouds, their engines spitting blue exhaust that formed the only starlight in this celestial domain.

This was the outer space of Cloud Mountain Star, Military Floating Land No. 17.

"The 782nd batch of citizen reserve conscription is complete."

A cold, mechanical synthesized voice echoed across the vast Steel Plaza, grating and utterly devoid of inflection.

"All personnel, fall in line. Anyone causing a disturbance will be charged with disrupting military discipline and executed on the spot."

At the plaza's edge, hundreds of Federation Provost Corps soldiers clad in exoskeleton power armor stood in silent stillness, their bolt guns gleaming with a frigid, murderous sheen.

Jiang Yue stood within the gray formation, his frame somewhat slender.

Even in the uniformly issued, loose-fitting training uniform, it was clear he lacked the beast-like, burly physique of others.

But he stood steady.

At this moment, Jiang Yue's gaze swept past the crowd, peering into the depths of the universe.

This was the best of times, and the worst of times.

To reclaim lost territory during the Great Crusade, the Human Federation had enacted a total war rationing system.

Every second, hundreds of frontier planets fell to alien races, reduced to scorched earth; every second, countless Federation fleets planted their war banners upon the ruins, proclaiming sovereignty.

Before this colossal cosmic meat grinder, there were no civilians.

All adult citizens served the war.

"Hah..."

Jiang Yue let out a soft breath.

This batch of reserves wasn't being sent directly to the front lines as cannon fodder—that was something the Federation had done centuries ago when its manpower was depleted.

The Federation now valued efficiency more.

Three months.

They had a three-month recruit training period.

If, within these three months, he could break through the limits of the human body through high-intensity training and become a quasi-warrior, he would don Federation power armor and become a respected regular in the Federation military.

If he failed...

Jiang Yue's gaze sharpened slightly.

Those who failed would have other destinations—they would be dispatched to heavy industrial forge stars or mines to engage in production.

Make the best use of everything, and assign everyone according to their abilities.

Within the surrounding formations, the stirring was subtle yet real.

To his front left, a pale-faced youth was trembling uncontrollably, the clatter of his teeth cutting through the dead silence with stark clarity. It was fear of the future—military service was glorious, but also brutal.

To his right, several burly individuals, clearly well-nourished, were relatively composed, their nervousness tinged with a hint of anticipation.

Jiang Yue neither trembled nor burned with fervor.

He simply breathed.

In this chaotic era of uncertainty, as the orphan of a fallen soldier, he had no one to rely on.

The only thing he could depend on was the translucent panel visible only to him.

At the corner of his retina, the panel materialized:

[Action: Breathing] [Status: In Progress] [Current Entry: Smooth Breath (White)] [Description: Your breathing rhythm is slightly superior to the average person, with stable cardiopulmonary function. Each inhalation and exhalation faintly calms nervous tension, with a slight increase in endurance.] [Accumulation Progress: Slowly increasing...]

Months ago, along with Jiang Yue's coming-of-age ceremony, came the conscription notice and this panel.

Every action was recorded on the panel, and as actions accumulated, [Entries] were unlocked.

The constant act of breathing, for instance, had unlocked the [Smooth Breath] entry for him.

Whatever is done, there will always be an echo.

Suddenly—

BOOM!!!

A terrifying sonic boom tore through the dead silence above the plaza.

All the recruits instinctively looked up, only to see a pitch-black assault shuttle hovering like a meteor directly a hundred meters above the formation.

The hatch slammed open, and a figure with no cushioning device leaped straight down!

That was a hundred-meter height! And on a Floating Land where gravity was adjusted to 1.5 times standard!

The steel deck let out a dull, heavy thud.

As the dust cleared, a man in a black Federation standard-issue long coat slowly straightened his back.

He had only one eye; the other socket was torn by some kind of claw, leaving three vicious scars that stretched all the way to the corner of his mouth.

He carried no weapons, but the moment he stood upright, a suffocating wave of terrifying heat swept across the entire scene.

Jiang Yue's pupils contracted sharply.

That was blood and qi.

So dense it was almost visible to the naked eye, like a furnace—blood and qi!

A third-rank martial artist!

In the rumors, such a powerhouse could withstand small-caliber autocannons with their bare body and survive briefly in a vacuum.

"Good afternoon, you soon-to-be-enlisted rookies."

"I think it's obvious none of you deserve the title of soldier yet. Let me introduce myself—just call me One-Eye."

The instructor's voice wasn't loud, but it seemed to drill straight into everyone's brain, carrying a stabbing pain.

His single eye swept coldly across the tens of thousands of new recruits. Wherever his gaze passed, no one dared meet it.

In the front row, a few recruits with weak mental fortitude, under this almost tangible killing intent, had their legs give out and fell to their knees, dry heaving.

That was the instinctive fear of life-level suppression.

Jiang Yue felt it too.

His skin prickled as if needles were stabbing him, his heart pounded violently from the pressure.

But he gritted his teeth fiercely, forcing himself to adjust his breathing rhythm.

Inhale... exhale...

The [Smooth Breath] term activated, a faint but cool stream of air flowing through his lungs, helping him barely steady himself under this pressure, unlike the others who were in disarray.

One-Eye seemed to notice something, his gaze lingering on Jiang Yue's area for half a second before shifting away with a cold smirk.

"I don't care where you're from, and I don't care how illustrious your family background is."

The instructor raised his hand, pointing at the sky-covering warships above.

"The Federation doesn't raise trash. Three months from now, anyone who doesn't meet the first-rank martial artist standard will be sent to the Forge Star to eat furnace ash! Only true martial artists are worthy of gripping a battle blade and reclaiming humanity's territory in the star sea!"

No encouragement, only the naked law of survival.

"Now, attention!"

The instructor's voice suddenly rose, like a thunderclap:

"Run twenty kilometers along the edge of the Floating Land! Anyone who can't finish gets no dinner tonight!"

"Move it!!"

Accompanied by the sound of execution squads pulling their rifle bolts, the massive formation of tens of thousands began to run in a scattered, disorderly manner.

Complaints, gasps, and footsteps mixed together like a chaotic tide.

Jiang Yue blended into the crowd, neither charging to the front nor lagging at the back.

He was finding a rhythm.

Though this body was somewhat frail from long-term malnutrition, under the boost of the [Smooth Breath] term, his breathing maintained a strange, steady cadence.

Three steps inhale, three steps exhale.

The cold wind was like a blade, scraping across his cheeks.

Heavy military boots pounded against the icy steel earth.

One kilometer... three kilometers... five kilometers...

The breathing around him grew heavier and heavier. Many had already started falling behind, faces flushed red, lungs heaving like bellows.

Sweat beaded on Jiang Yue's forehead, and a faint taste of blood rose in his throat.

But he didn't stop. In fact, his eyes grew even brighter.

As he ran, he glanced at the edge of his retina.

There, with his breathing rhythm remaining stable despite the intense exercise, the line of text that had been crawling like a snail had changed.

[Action: Breathing] [Status: High-load operation] [Accumulated Progress: ++]

The speed of the progress bar's movement had increased by a fraction compared to when he stood still.

"It seems the accumulation of actions on the panel can be accelerated..."