第46章 我申请跟他单挑!

The doctor left the ward.

For the next hour, Sparta lay quietly on the hospital bed, waiting for his injuries to fully heal.

An hour passed quickly.

Sparta raised his arm, feeling the return of his strength and muscle tension, and muttered to himself:

Almost there.

He slowly lowered his right leg hanging over the edge, touched the bandages with his fingertips, and removed them along with the tongue depressor.

His skin was exposed to the air again, and the wounds that had previously been torn open and aching faintly were now completely healed, without even a trace of a scar left behind.

His feet stood back on the ground, and he placed his palms on the back of his neck, working them hard to produce a slight cracking sound.

Sparta glanced sideways at his palms, then clenched his five fingers tightly.

Bang!

The moment his fingers closed, it produced a sonic boom as the air was squeezed.

Compared to before he was injured, his strength had increased significantly.

Sparta shook his hands and nodded with satisfaction.

Relying on his current strength, he should be able to beat at least three Claytons to a pulp.

He stepped out of the ward and searched the hospital for Clayton.

He certainly hadn't forgotten how Clayton had poked at his wounds with his fingers while he was lying in the hospital bed.

At that moment, Clayton was sitting on a chair, eating food he had scavenged from the hospital cafeteria, holding an alien 18+ magazine in his hands.

On the cover of the magazine were two scantily clad alien females with their arms around each other.

As he ate, he scrutinized the contents of the magazine with a critical eye, letting out a clicking sound of disapproval from time to time, while occasionally giving a slight nod.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of Clayton's neck stood on end.

The food stuffed in his mouth stopped chewing, and his gaze withdrew from the magazine, staring blankly at the white wall straight ahead.

His head didn't move, but his eyeballs rolled in their sockets, trying to catch a glimpse of the source of danger behind him out of the corner of his eye.

"Yo, eating?"

Sparta slapped Clayton on the shoulder.

Clayton's body staggered from the blow, and immediately after, Sparta leaned his face close to his ear, a demon-like whisper ringing out:

"Having a good time eating, are you? And you even get little magazines to look at."

Clayton's throat bobbed as he struggled to force the food in his mouth down.

The next second, he was jerked straight up into the air.

Sparta's palm clamped onto his shoulder in a death grip, and he punched Clayton in the abdomen.

Suspended mid-air, Clayton doubled over like a shrimp, and the alien magazine in his hand dropped to the floor.

The undigested food in his stomach, mixed with gastric juices, spewed from his mouth.

"Cough, cough... listen to me..."

Clayton retched and kicked his legs in mid-air.

Sparta ignored him, landing a second punch straight into Clayton's stomach.

The force of this blow was even heavier, causing his eyes to bulge directly out of their sockets.

"Like to play? Well isn't this a coincidence, what I like the most is playing with people like you."

Sparta grabbed his shoulder, his five fingers gradually increasing the pressure.

The bones in Clayton's shoulder made a cracking sound, and his legs made futile struggles in mid-air.

At that moment, Jayce, who had been looking for Sparta, appeared, carrying two portions of takeout food in his hands.

As soon as he appeared, he happened to witness Clayton being hoisted into the air and beaten savagely by Sparta.

"I've got two portions of roasted meat rice here, do me a favor and sit down to eat first."

Jayce brandished the takeout bag in his hand, the aroma drifting into the air.

Sparta turned his head to glance at Jayce first, then looked back at Clayton suspended in mid-air.

Without missing a beat, a third punch landed solidly on the other's abdomen once more.

With three punches finished, Sparta finally loosened his grip on the other's shoulder, patted his hands in disgust, and turned to walk toward Jayce.

Conversely, Clayton dropped from mid-air, his legs turning to jelly as he knelt on the ground, his right hand clutching his aching stomach as he hung his head and retched with a distorted expression.

Seeing this scene, Jayce's fondness for Sparta deepened even further.

Who wouldn't like a soldier who was powerful and also willing to follow his orders?

"Let's go, there's a park outside the hospital with pretty decent scenery, let's eat over there."

Sparta nodded gently, indicating there was no problem:

"As you say."

With that, the two prepared to leave the hospital for the park.

Just as they took a step, Clayton, kneeling on both knees, abruptly stopped retching and hurriedly cried out to stop them:

"Don't go!"

"Officer Jayce, I want to request a one-on-one duel with Sparta!"

Sparta and Jayce stopped in their tracks, looking with odd expressions at Clayton, who was still refusing to admit defeat as he knelt on the ground.

"Don't be willful. Do you really think you're Sparta's match?"

Jayce left behind only a light remark where he stood, and walked away with Sparta without looking back.

Clayton raised his head abruptly, his gaze fixed on the chatting backs of the two as they left.

Jayce's words hurt him even more than Sparta's fists.

He didn't understand why they were all the same age, yet Sparta's strength was so much greater than his own.

Clearly, he was also a Viltrumite Warrior who had passed the Coming-of-Age Trial, he worked out in the training room, and he had defeated no small number of enemies.

Yet... why was the gap between them becoming more and more obvious?

In the park, Sparta and Jayce sat on the same bench.

"Whoa—what kind of meat is this? Will I really not get poisoned eating this?"

Sparta poked a piece of greenish roasted meat with his fork, a thick green juice dripping from it.

Judging purely by its appearance, it really felt like some kind of dark cuisine.

Jayce forked a piece of the roasted meat, tore off a bite, and explained as he chewed:

"What's so bad about this? When I was your age, I didn't even have roasted meat to eat—all I ate was raw, dead meat."

"It actually tastes pretty good, you should try it."

Sparta bared his teeth and inspected the piece of greenish roasted meat over and over.

"Suddenly I feel like nutrient paste isn't so bad after all."

He muttered casually, then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and popped the meat into his mouth.

With a single bite, juices splashed inside his mouth.

Sparta opened his eyes, chewing the meat in his mouth.

It tasted pretty good? Fine... actually it was really awful, and he still couldn't accept this kind of alien roasted meat.

He frowned, glanced sideways at Jayce, and asked:

"Now that I'm fully recovered, what should we do next?"

Jayce swallowed the food in his mouth, fixing his gaze on the fountain in the distance of the park, where aliens chatted in groups beside it.

"What do you think of this place?"

Sparta hadn't expected Jayce to suddenly turn the question back on him. He thought for a moment and replied:

"Aside from the taste of the food, everything else is pretty good."

Jayce watched as an alien child ran past them with a smile:

"Then let's just wait out the end of the war right here."

Sparta set the unpalatable food down on the bench.

"If the higher-ups find out about this, everyone's going to face a military tribunal, right?"