Everyone Cleans Their Guns

The atmosphere in the common room was dreary and strange. After dinner, none of them had returned to their rooms. Instead, they sat scattered around the lounge, each occupied with their own business.

Hill came over, grabbed Song Zhi by the wrist, and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, it's time. How long are you going to stall?"

Song Zhi turned to look at Lu Yu, a hint of pleading in her eyes. She tried to pry Hill's hand off and dodge him.

Hill was a little surprised by Song Zhi's reaction that night. He pressed his lips together, displeasure on his face. "What? Do I have to carry you there?"

"Ow! Let go, you're hurting me..." Song Zhi sucked in a sharp breath of pain, but Hill didn't release her.

"I'm going to Lu Yu's tonight to learn how to clean and oil guns..."

The moment she said that, four icy gazes shot toward Lu Yu.

Lu Yu shook his head and chuckled. "Ah... cleaning guns! In that case... why don't we all do it together?"

Then five unblinking, undisguised stares landed on Song Zhi at once, carrying a hint of ambiguous amusement.

Song Zhi felt as though needles were pricking her back and couldn't help swallowing.

Hill's lips twitched. He abruptly released Song Zhi's wrist and snorted. "Sure! It's been a long time since I did it anyway."

The others then returned to their rooms. Before long, they came back to the common room carrying their own weapon bags and settled separately in corners to clean and maintain their guns.

"Whew..."

Song Zhi sighed. A small-scale obedience test had ended in failure.

She hadn't escaped it either. She sat beside Lu Yu, learning various gun maintenance techniques. She listened carefully to his explanations while cautiously copying his movements.

Every now and then, Lu Yu would stop to correct her technique, his fingertips brushing the back of her hand inadvertently. His meaningful gaze made her heart tremble.

"Don't be so nervous. The gun won't bite," Lu Yu teased, a hint of nonchalance in his voice.

Knowing she was in the wrong, Song Zhi didn't reply. She simply focused more intently on the parts in her hands. The lounge was quiet enough that she could hear the faint sound of metal rubbing against cloth.

Following the steps she remembered, she installed the components one by one. Once the pistol was assembled, she inserted the empty magazine and pulled the barrel, only to find that it wouldn't budge. She turned a puzzled gaze toward Lu Yu.

Lu Yu shrugged. "Maybe a part's missing. Look again."

Song Zhi searched carefully. It wasn't on the table or on her clothes. Had it fallen to the floor? She bent down and looked under the table, but there was nothing there either. The space was empty.

A mischievous chuckle sounded above her. It was Lu Yu.

Song Zhi looked up. A hand wearing a tactical glove appeared before her, a small catch resting in its palm. Following the hand upward, she met Lai'en's blue eyes. They were as cold as ice, devoid of any emotion.

"A gun missing a part is just scrap metal," he said.

"Lieutenant..."

Song Zhi lowered her eyes, a little displeased, but unable to argue. She reached out, but just as her fingertips touched the little catch, Lai'en suddenly withdrew his hand in one crisp, decisive motion.

"Remember, be more thorough the next time you check your equipment." His voice was low and calm, as though he were stating the simplest of facts rather than reprimanding her.

Song Zhi pressed her lips together without speaking and silently took the catch when he held it out again. She could feel that her fingers were still a little stiff, perhaps because that moment of eye contact had made her heart race. It was a strange feeling, like being lightly pricked by something, though she couldn't say exactly what.

Several probing gazes fell on Song Zhi's busy figure from behind. The looks were so light that she didn't notice them at all.

She lowered her head and quickly fitted the catch into its proper position, then pulled the slide again. This time, a crisp click announced that the assembly was complete.

When she looked up again, she found that Lai'en had already turned and left. His back was straight as a pine, his stride steady, as though he had never stopped at all.

Early the next morning, Song Zhi got ready and left on time. A black SUV was parked outside the apartment. When the person inside saw her come out, they honked twice, reminding her to hurry up and get in.

Song Zhi opened the passenger door and discovered that Lai'en was the one driving. The moment she met his blue eyes, she felt inexplicably guilty. "Good morning, Lieutenant."

"Mm. Get in." Lai'en nodded, still showing no unnecessary emotion.

Song Zhi got in and quickly fastened her seat belt. With her legs together and her hands on her knees, she sat ramrod straight, practically wearing the words "rookie recruit" on her face.

Lai'en caught Song Zhi's behavior out of the corner of his eye and quickly looked away. Holding the steering wheel with one hand, he concentrated on driving, and they went straight to the shooting range.

When they arrived, they got out of the car. Lai'en carried a bag of guns and walked ahead, leaving Song Zhi to jog along behind him.

Song Zhi strongly suspected that Lai'en had noticed her rash move the night before, which was why he had taken over today's lesson. He didn't need to say anything; everything was under control.

Today's lesson was tactics: shooting on the move and carrying out commands to advance in alternating formations. Lai'en was very serious when he taught, reminding Song Zhi of her high school homeroom teacher—a model worker who was rigorous, solemn, and strict.

He crouched in front of Song Zhi and strapped a tactical band around her leg. A pistol holster was attached to it, with an M1911 inside, within easy reach. A military dagger was fastened to her combat boot, and her tactical vest was loaded with equipment: serum, adrenaline, hemostatic agents, a two-way radio, magazines, flashbangs, smoke grenades, and so on.

The six-lens night vision device on her tactical helmet weighed so heavily that her scalp tingled. A micro submachine gun hung in front of her chest, with a fully automatic assault rifle on the other side.

All this equipment looked cool in a game, but wearing it all was so heavy that Song Zhi could barely breathe. She still had to perform various movements on the move in all that gear, following Lai'en's commands.

Crouching, switching guns, dropping prone, advancing, rolling, crawling, taking cover—her movements were slow and her form was poor. All the gear she wore disrupted the flow of her movements. When she rolled in particular, the canteen hanging at her waist kept her from rolling either forward or back. She could only lie on the ground and look at Lai'en as though asking for help.

Lai'en came over and reached out to pull Song Zhi up. His gaze remained cold and grave as he said, "Rest for half an hour, then we'll continue."

He first helped Song Zhi take off the heavy helmet, then the guns, and finally her tactical vest. He looked down at her, drenched in sweat, his lips pressed together slightly.

Song Zhi panted heavily, her chest rising and falling with each breath as she slowly moved her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed from the intense activity, and damp wisps of hair clung to her forehead.

Lai'en handed her a bottle of water. Looking down at the tactical tablet, he monitored the changes in Song Zhi's heart rate. Her cardiopulmonary oxygen consumption was too high, and the load she was carrying was already at her limit.

"You can move a little faster. Your reactions are still somewhat slow, so you need to pay attention to that." Lai'en looked down and swiped through the various data and conclusions on the tablet, giving her guidance on what to adjust.

Song Zhi gave a low huff and let out a breath, as though long-suppressed dissatisfaction had found an outlet. She looked up at Lai'en and mustered the courage to say, "Lieutenant, I'm a person, not a machine, much less a machine that depends on data to complete a mission. Everyone's physical condition is different, and so are the fields they excel in. You can't hold me to a soldier's standards. That's not fair!"

Lai'en listened to her and finally raised his eyes. He closed the tablet and looked at Song Zhi, waiting for her to finish.

"...I've already been trying very hard." Song Zhi met Lai'en's blue eyes, and her initially fierce manner weakened in an instant. She thought this was the pressure exerted by the strong.

"You have been trying hard, but it's not enough." Lai'en wasn't angry. He remained composed and calm, without even a visible flicker of emotion.

"What would be enough? Aren't I a guide? I only need to soothe and guide soldiers, so why are you training me to be one?"

There was a hint of grievance and confusion in Song Zhi's voice. Her brows knitted slightly, as though she were trying to suppress the turmoil inside her. It wasn't that she hadn't tried to cooperate, but this high-intensity training had clearly exceeded her expectations.

"Besides, everyone else is already working in their own positions... The girl from the rainforest works as a nurse at a hospital... I'm not a soldier..." She didn't finish. Uneasy, she leaned back in her chair with her head lowered, her voice growing quieter and quieter.

"I know you're not a soldier," Lai'en said, his voice remaining calm. "But Group A has its own rules. If you're part of Group A, you have to be prepared for everything. This isn't for our sake, but for yours."

He stepped forward and tipped up Song Zhi's chin with fingers clad in a black tactical glove, forcing her to look up at him. Ignoring the innocence and bewilderment in her eyes, he questioned her coldly.

"And... do you know how to soothe a soldier?"