"Get lost, don't you call this knowing?" Houdel said bitterly, "I've never...never seen such...such a gentle expression on your face, sir."
Soon, all reserve officers and commissioned officers had obtained their number badges.
A few church servants came over, leading the examinees to the seats corresponding to their number badges.
The number on Houdel's badge was "198," and the seat it corresponded to was in the third-to-last row of all the seats.
Once seated on the simple bench marked with 198, the world instantly took on a different appearance.
The church's dome was so high that it seemed about to fall down and hit him in the eyes;
His comrades clearly sat just a few meters away in front, behind, and to the sides, yet it felt like an ocean lay between them.
Everyone looked at each other, opened their mouths to talk, but no one dared to speak.
Houdel's heart was pounding, and no matter how he wiped his sweaty palms, they wouldn't dry.
