Although his attitude was average, he didn't make things difficult for Aiven. Taking the letter, the major officer glanced at the wax seal on it, didn't even bother to open it, and directly wrote a few words on it before placing it into the drawer on his right-hand side.
With sharp eyes, Aiven glanced at it, noticing several similar style and similarly unopened letters inside. He realized at once that he wasn't the only recruit in a similar situation.
He took out a stamp and marked Aiven's form, placing it on a stack of forms on the table, which had only a few pages; Aiven noticed that all these forms had the same mark as his.
This was probably the purpose of the introduction letter.
"Alright, I am the instructor for your next three months of recruit training. You can call me Instructor or Major Eugene.
Remember to come here tomorrow for the physical test. Even though it might seem like a waste of time to you, the basic procedures must still be followed. Go call in the next person!"
"Yes, Major Eugene!" Aiven adapted well, got up and switched to a military salute, then turned and walked out of the room.
Standing in the corridor of the courtyard waiting for Gary to come out, Aiven sighed. It seems that there are always insiders no matter where you go, even in the otherworld.
From the moment they stepped out of the recruitment office door, the rookie navy soldiers had already been divided into different levels.
And this Major Eugene clearly misunderstood Aiven's identity because of that letter, but with benefits presented to him, Aiven certainly wasn't foolish enough to correct him.
Moreover, having saved the Yellow Crane from significant property and personnel loss, he felt at ease accepting the introduction letter this time.
...
Due to the current shortage of navy personnel, a year-round, open-ended recruitment policy is adopted. As soon as a batch reaches a certain number, the training process is initiated.
Aiven and Gary were fortunate enough to catch the tail end of this batch.
The next day, the physical test was naturally not a problem for Aiven. Both he and Gary passed with high scores, officially becoming proud members of the Navy Third Fleet.
Waiting for these recruits is a three-month training period before boarding the ship.
At the very least, they need to have a certain foundation, so they don't create chaos or even endanger themselves after boarding. Once they survive the baptism of fire and blood, they will basically become qualified navy soldiers.
Aiven didn't know how the navy high command arranged things. However, through the complaints of the test staff, he heard a piece of gossip and finally understood why the recruitment office was so shabby.
"It's all thanks to Vice Admiral Snite, the head of the base logistics," the staff member said.
Snite, who hailed from a merchant family, was not only a qualified quartermaster but also a successful businessman.
He habitually priced everything openly and used the navy's special status to multiply profits, including what used to be the grand and spacious recruitment office, which gave the navy great prestige!
His philosophy is: "When we make money, the buyer is our god. When we spend money, we are someone else's god."
As a recruitment office that can only spend money and not make money, it has become like this. The original site has also been turned into the base of a major merchant association, yielding a substantial rent income each year.
This simple and pragmatic utilitarian philosophy has propelled Gabred's rapid development and brought abundant military funds to the Third Fleet, making him the well-deserved god of wealth in everyone's minds.
The recruitment office staff could only grumble but didn't dare to speak out, even if the working environment was poor.
Aiven thought that this base quartermaster was indeed an ingenious person. He saw clearly that what attracted young people to join the navy was never a lavish naval base, but a bright future as a navy soldier or even an officer.
On the contrary, he could use the sense of security that the naval port brings to merchants, fully utilizing prime land locations to profit for the navy. Then, he could use these revenues to improve the welfare and benefits of military personnel, truly leveraging the funds.
"I will eventually have dealings with this quartermaster," Aiven felt a premonition in his heart.
...
In the training ground, the new Navy recruits from this batch sat on the ground in a circle.
"Crack!"
The wooden training swords clashed, and the two people in combat recoiled backward with the force, quickly bouncing back into battle after landing.
Clearly, the physical fitness of these two combatants was far beyond what ordinary people could compare to. Their swift movements and the clash of wooden swords were too fast for regular reflexes to track.
Moreover, although they held only wooden practice swords, the air-whistling sound they made during swings suggested that the impact on a person wouldn't be any lighter than a real blade.
But these two didn't care at all, evidently having great confidence in their swordsmanship.
"Alright, stop!"
The combat halted, and the dust swirling around the field settled, revealing two figures in navy training uniforms.
One of them was Major Eugene, the instructor for this batch, and the other was Aiven, honorably selected as a sparring partner.
Despite Aiven looking as if he was about to collapse from exhaustion, Major Eugene, who had long figured out this kid's nature after a month, didn't care at all.
Serious, diligent, persistent, and having perseverance, Aiven was unlike any of the aristocratic scions Eugene knew, except for having a knack for not waking up without profit, which he had in common with them in spades.
At the beginning, when Eugene said he would teach him the navy's unique military swordsmanship ahead of time, Aiven was diligent and attentive, always hovering around without being called.
Then, after a genius week of completely mastering the basics, whenever Eugene wanted him to come out and act as a demonstration partner for other students, he'd put on a half-dead salty appearance.
Moreover, he'd righteously complain that sparring was wasting his own training and sailing skills learning time!
"But, it's alright! I'm an Official Knight. He can't beat me, so he has to obey obediently."
After firmly suppressing him, the training continued as usual.
Within less than a month, most of the other high-born "Insignia Students" had already left the training camp. Eugene knew their futures had long been arranged by their parents and never stopped them.
Only Aiven Galliot, who soaked in the training camp like a sponge and crazily crammed every bit of knowledge that others despised, was left.
If I don't pull you in as a strong laborer, who else can I pull in?
Even though the navy is a concentration of talent, for most recruits of civilian background, literacy alone poses as a significant barrier.
Phaletis' literacy rate, after years of promotion, has barely reached twenty percent, meaning one in five people could read. In other countries that restricted the spread of knowledge to the civilian class, single-digit literacy rates were the norm.
If basic literacy is so, let alone the so-called broad and grand extraordinary swordsmanship.
Therefore, if Aiven were to travel from being a commoner in this era, it would indeed be starting in hell. Giving you a Divine Skill Secret Manual wouldn't help, without systematic knowledge to back it up, you wouldn't learn it!
The huge societal rift is always felt, only in a world with extraordinary power does it become even more apparent than in the previous world.
Eugene's choice was also out of helplessness.
"Soldiers! I announce, starting tomorrow, Teaching Assistant Aiven will replace me in teaching you the military swordsmanship we just demonstrated..."
The speech was already interrupted by thunderous cheers from below. Why did these people join the army? Was it really the propaganda to fight pirates and protect the homeland? Wasn't it for standing out, getting promoted, and getting rich?
Yes! The people's original desires are so simple, real, and honest!
Any knowledge and skills handed down from the upper echelons concern whether they can overturn their life's circumstances, escape the social base. Allowing their descendants to have the chance to break away from a preordained life as a farmer, herder, or fisherman!
While Aiven was somewhat annoyed by Instructor Eugene's self-initiative, when faced with pairs of eager eyes, words of refusal couldn't leave his mouth.