The following week passed without incident. At school, Zhang Tie gradually got to know the other members of the Airplane Brotherhood better. Whether they were honoring their promise to him or had genuinely realized after the last incident that fooling around with manual, single-cylinder piston action at school was too risky, none of them did anything outrageous again. That came as a relief to Zhang Tie. Though he was still weak, he felt satisfied that he could protect Teacher Daina in this way. Meanwhile, Gelis was as overbearing and domineering as ever, putting on a little show of bullying the weak in the school cafeteria every day. But he had good reason to be so arrogant. In the tests the school had held last week, Gelis had scored so well that he broke nearly every school record in every event. His records were enough to make every boy in the school despair. The difference between a Level 2 professional warrior and an ordinary nobody was laid bare for all to see. Zhang Tie felt lucky that Gelis had never cut in front of him while he was waiting in the cafeteria line, but at the same time, Gelis put enormous pressure on everyone—including Zhang Tie. Every day in the cafeteria, Zhang Tie found himself wondering: if one day someone with stronger fists tried to take what I'm protecting, what would I do? Fight, even if I couldn't win? Or just stand by and watch? That enormous pressure became a powerful motivation. Besides training and studying as hard as he could at school, Zhang Tie made the most of every spare moment at home to grow stronger, bit by bit. In this era, the sooner he lit the Thought Fire in his Divine Palace, the sooner he'd have at least some ability to protect himself. And Zhang Tie wasn't the only one pushing himself. The boys in the graduating class at Black Flame City's National Seventh Middle School were all working themselves to the bone. This was their final semester at school; the entire second half of the year would be spent in practical training, not in class. The mines around Black Flame City, the City Guard, the farms outside the city, and the main thoroughfares that needed guarding were all possible training sites for the graduating students. They would be relatively safe in the city, where there were fewer accidents. But training at any of the other locations could cost them their lives. Once they left the protection of Black Flame City's towering walls, there was hardly a safe place to be found in the wilderness. Dangerous mutated creatures and the Dark Race dwelling underground could take your life at any moment. And for years, stories had circulated among National Seventh Middle School's graduating students about the perverted gay men in the city defense force who had a taste for fresh-faced trainees. "If you don't fight like hell, you die"—that was Captain Colin's catchphrase, and a true reflection of the times.
"Thrust! Harder! Did none of you eat lunch? Thrust! Harder..." The weapons instructor's roars echoed across the training ground that afternoon. "You idiots! Even if you were holding a red-hot iron rod, you shouldn't let the spear slide forward when you thrust! Have you got no strength in your hands? You're worse than women..." Beneath the blazing sun, Zhang Tie practiced the dull thrusting motions over and over, drenched in sweat. After two hours, the hollow steel shaft of his spear had grown scorching hot. Blisters had risen on his palms and burst, stinging fiercely as sweat and the hot shaft irritated them. Holding the sun-baked spear felt like gripping a burning coal; the pain was like needles stabbing his hands. But when he looked at the weapons instructor standing straight as a spear on the training platform, also under the sun, and saw the stern expression on his face, Zhang Tie could only grit his teeth. Again and again, he turned the pain in his body into a furious roar of "Kill!" then straightened, stepped forward, and thrust—like a tireless machine. What made the students train even harder than the weapons instructor was the record of the guy they hated most, displayed on the raised platform behind him. It was a school tradition: the best performer in each graduating class had all his stats written in huge red characters on the platform at the center of the training ground, for everyone to admire. For one person, it was an honor. For everyone else, it was a spur—or, more accurately, a provocation... Gelis—100-meter dash: 10.3 seconds. Bench press: 150 kilograms. Squat: 310 kilograms. Explosive punching power—right fist: 510 kilograms; left fist: 340 kilograms. Maximum explosive kicking power: 780 kilograms. Maximum consecutive armor-piercing spear thrusts: 137. Endurance: 13. The endurance rating was also known as the Three-Standard rating. It measured the maximum effective combat distance, in kilometers, a person could cover at standard speed on standard terrain while wearing standard combat gear. The description might sound complicated, but it was the most accurate explanation. For a unit of spearmen, this rating represented the formation's maximum tactical marching radius on the battlefield. "Maximum effective combat power" meant retaining at least half of one's personal maximum combat power after a three-minute rest following a forced march. Gelis's endurance rating of 13 meant that after a forced march of 13 kilometers in standard combat gear, he could still perform at least 69 armor-piercing thrusts in a row or hit with his right fist at a force of more than 255 kilograms... That was the strength of a Level 2 Battle Soldier! The writing on the platform was still fresh. Those bright red characters looked down as if mocking everyone beneath the guy whose name they bore. Ever since the school had put Gelis's name and stats up two weeks ago, the atmosphere on the training ground had grown more and more explosive. No one wanted to be the first to fold. The day Gelis's name appeared on the platform, the cold-eyed weapons instructor had told them, "On the battlefield, there are only the living and the dead. There are no good people or bad people." Everyone understood. Zhang Tie's interpretation was simple: whoever came back alive from the battlefield was a good person.
After more than two hours of weapons training came a ten-kilometer, medium-paced march in full gear. By the time Zhang Tie finished the last task of the day, his legs had gone as soft as cotton. He found a shady spot, dropped onto the ground, and panted like a dog for ages without being able to stand back up. All the members of the Airplane Brotherhood were sprawled in exhaustion, except Doug and Baghdad. Baghdad was the strongest member of the brotherhood and ranked among the best at school. Doug, however, was a special case. He was unreasonably excited today. He'd been grinning stupidly in class with drool running down his chin, and during weapons training, Zhang Tie had happened to notice that although Doug was just as exhausted as everyone else, he'd somehow pitched a towering tent in his trousers in the middle of the afternoon. The sight had left Zhang Tie stunned. Damn, if weapons training could get the little guy that worked up, Zhang Tie had to hand it to his brother in the Airplane Brotherhood.
They had just finished running when Gelis and a few of his lackeys strutted past Zhang Tie with their chests puffed out like roosters. They looked with disdain at the crowd, most of whom had been worked until they were sprawled on the ground. Gelis's lips seemed to form the word "Trash!" Zhang Tie didn't have the energy to make sure. He just clenched his teeth.
After resting for a little over ten minutes and recovering a bit, Zhang Tie saw the fatso Barry wobble over and crouch in front of him. In a sneaky whisper, he asked, "Got plans after school?"
"Twice a week. I've got a shift at the general store today, actually!"
"You're still a virgin?" At that, Zhang Tie's temper flared. "Fuck, what's wrong with being a virgin? You're all virgins too!"
"Wrong. After today, you'll be the only virgin left in the whole Airplane Brotherhood," Barry said calmly. The pitying look in his eyes left Zhang Tie confused.
"What do you mean?" Zhang Tie couldn't make sense of it.
"You'll find out after school. It's one of the perks of being a member of the Airplane Brotherhood. It's Doug's turn today. Once I get a little more money, I'll set something up for you next time..." Barry patted Zhang Tie on the shoulder, got to his feet, and walked away, leaving Zhang Tie sitting there dumbfounded for a long while.
There was something different about leaving school that day. As they walked out the gates together, Zhang Tie noticed that Baghdad and the others were solemnly saying their goodbyes to Doug at the school entrance. Each one put an arm around him, leaned their heads together, and whispered something to him, followed by a lewd laugh. Doug was excited; even his ears were red. Zhang Tie only caught scraps of what they said—things like "rinse your mouth" and "keep clean and there'll be a surprise"—all of it baffling. When it was Baghdad's turn, the guy had a loud enough voice for Zhang Tie to hear him clearly. "The first time goes fast. Don't get discouraged. The next ones will last a long time—you can go lots of times. I went seven times in a row when I went..." Then came pats on the shoulder and hugs, and finally, the whole bunch exchanged knowing looks with Doug before saying goodbye. Sista wanted to go with him, but Baghdad and Light dragged him away by the arms. Zhang Tie was completely lost. Barry said the Airplane Brotherhood had an activity coming up and that Zhang Tie could tag along if he wanted to see what it was like. Zhang Tie asked where they were going, and when he learned that Barry and Doug were heading toward the train station, which was more or less on his way, he decided to follow them.
Along the way, Doug was both excited and nervous, asking Barry all sorts of strange questions.
"I took a bath last night, but I sweated a lot during training today. Is that okay?"
"Did you change your underwear and underpants?"
"I did. I changed after my bath last night!"
"Then you're fine!"
"But Sista said there'd be a surprise if I rinsed my mouth before we went."
"Don't worry. I've already prepared that for you!" As he spoke, Barry solemnly pulled a small paper packet from his pocket. It was wrapped in layer after layer of paper, which made Doug and Zhang Tie especially curious. They craned their necks to look as Barry opened it. Inside were three or four thin leaves.
"What are those?" Doug asked curiously.
"These are precious. They're tea leaves. I stole them from my old man. Someone gave them to him, and he usually won't use any. They only grow on the Eastern Continent. Here, put them in your mouth and hold them there. Don't chew or swallow them. Just keep them there. They work even better than rinsing your mouth!"
Barry carefully took the leaves and put them in his mouth, holding them tightly. He stopped talking, as if afraid they'd fall out if he opened his mouth.
"How many times can you do it?" After holding them in his mouth for a while as they walked, Doug couldn't help asking another question.
"For three hours, you can do it as many times as you like!"
"Can you do it in the other hole?" A few minutes later, Doug, like a curious little kid, popped out another question.
"The back..." Barry was genuinely astonished. "Who told you that?"
"My brother..."
"Well... I don't think you can, probably. Sista and the others haven't tried it!"
"Oh!" Doug kept the tea leaves tucked firmly in his mouth and quieted down. Perhaps he felt his answer about the other hole hadn't sounded convincing enough and had undermined his authority. After a few seconds of silence, Barry solemnly explained, "Doing it in the back costs a lot. Yeah, a lot. And it's unhygienic..."
Zhang Tie had started to form a vague idea of what was going on, but the curiosity he couldn't explain, along with his ever-rising testosterone, made him nervously follow Barry and Doug from school to the old residential district near the train station. They turned this way and that through a low, narrow alley for three or five minutes, until the three of them finally stood in front of a vermilion door. Compared to the clearly dilapidated doors around it, the place where they stood was noticeably cleaner and tidier. As they waited outside and Barry knocked, a few passersby glanced at their faces with strange expressions. Zhang Tie felt as though fleas were crawling on his face, making it itch a little.
Zhang Tie had no idea what was behind the door, but his instincts told him it would be exciting. He was starting to get nervous too. Doug was even more nervous, sweating all over. Zhang Tie heard someone's throat gurgle and turned to look; Doug seemed about to retch, frantically jamming his fingers into his mouth. Barry was startled too. "What's wrong?"
"I was nervous just now... When I swallowed... I swallowed those leaves too. Now they're stuck halfway down my throat... It feels awful..."
"Idiot..." Barry cursed, then painfully smacked himself on the forehead. "How embarrassing. Stop digging around in your mouth. Just drink some water when you get inside and wash them down!"
"Urgh..." Zhang Tie's eyes widened as Doug's face turned red. The veins on his neck bulged and thickened. It looked like something was rising up from his throat; his cheeks puffed out. Then he clamped his mouth shut, covered it with his hand, and swallowed hard. Everything went right back down.
"Okay, I'm fine now. It all went down. Good thing I reacted fast!" Doug patted his chest like someone who'd just escaped death. Then he gave a shy grin, exposing a half-digested piece of leafy greens from the school cafeteria stuck between his teeth. Zhang Tie's face went a little pale, and his stomach churned. It was too much. Now whenever Doug opened his mouth, Zhang Tie could smell a foul, acidic stench that made him want to retch. Barry was also gaping in shock, as if he hadn't thought anyone could reach such heights.
Zhang Tie retreated. The young man's swelling curiosity and hormones ebbed away like a tide. "You two go ahead. I'm leaving!"
Barry quickly pulled four silver coins from his pocket and slapped them into Doug's other hand. "You go in by yourself later. Remember, don't say I brought you here, and don't say you know me!"
The two of them hurriedly ran off and hid nearby, leaving Doug standing at the door in some confusion, scratching his head. The vermilion door opened. Zhang Tie couldn't see who was inside; he only saw Doug's eyes go wide, then watched him give the doorway a "shy" smile. "Hello..." Whoever had opened the door had probably nearly been knocked out by Doug's breath.
No sooner had Doug spoken than the door slammed shut with a bang. He stood there baffled. After thinking for a moment, he turned to look toward Barry and Zhang Tie. Barry gave him an encouraging thumbs-up, so Doug puffed out his chest and knocked again. The door opened. Doug still wore his "shy" smile, holding out the four silver coins in his palm. At the sight, Barry once more smacked himself painfully on the head.
The door shut again without hesitation. This time it slammed even louder and harder; one could easily imagine how the owner felt.
When Doug knocked for the third time, Zhang Tie saw the door open—and a basin of water come flying straight out. Doug was instantly drenched, his "shy" smile frozen in place... What an unlucky guy!