Ross taught him how to quickly draw and fire a gun on the battlefield. His philosophy was that whoever fired first had the advantage.
How to master one's weapon more quickly and gain a greater advantage on the battlefield.
The special training in the morning downpour left Zhang Jie somewhat exhausted, but he knew it was effective because he could see his own progress. Thanks to the proficiency panel!
Just a progress bar showing his efforts was enough for him to surpass all geniuses, and of course, he himself was also diligent enough.
The morning downpour finally ended, and the sun was directly overhead.
After the rain, the jungle steamed with humid, hot mist, and the sunlight was filtered into dappled patches by the layers of tree canopies.
Zhang Jie's combat boots made a chilling 'creak' as they sank into the humus.
Following the prompts, he arrived at the designated location.
"Stop."
The voice came from above.
Yinyang was sitting cross-legged on a branch three meters high. To be honest, this man, who looked a bit like Jet Li, made him feel a bit out of character.
But there was also a difference, because Yinyang's resolute face and sharp eyes naturally dispelled that feeling of being out of character.
Two sharpened bamboo skewers twirled between his fingers, reflecting dangerous emerald green light in the sun.
The branch swayed gently with his weight, but made no sound.
"Come up," he said, his voice very soft.
Zhang Jie grabbed the damp vine, feeling its rough texture under his fingertips. Just as he lifted his right leg, he suddenly felt a chill at his throat. Yinyang had, at some unknown point, hung upside down, the tip of a bamboo skewer pressed against his Adam's apple.
"Breathing frequency 88 times per minute."
Yinyang's pupils contracted slightly in the shadows. "An accelerated heart rate causes capillary dilation. Your body temperature is 0.8 degrees higher than the environment."
The bamboo skewer slowly moved up his carotid artery. "Any infrared detector could spot you from 2 kilometers away."
Zhang Jie's Adam's apple involuntarily bobbed.
Only then did he notice that Yinyang's camouflage uniform was covered in moss, and the rise and fall of his chest during breathing was almost imperceptible, like a dead tree integrated into the jungle.
"Now," Yinyang landed lightly on the ground, not even disturbing a single fallen leaf, "try to touch me."
Six hours of torment began.
In the swamp, every step Zhang Jie took caused black water to rise above his ankles.
When he was hit in the shoulder by a dart for the third time, Yinyang's voice drifted from the reeds: "Even the leeches sensed the vibration before you did!"
The feathers on the dart's tail were stained with the spiderweb Zhang Jie had just broken.
During short staff training, Yinyang's nunchaku blurred into streaks.
"Your wrists are like willow branches," his staff tip suddenly changed direction, hitting the funny bone in Zhang Jie's elbow, "not oak."
Zhang Jie's short staff flew out of his hand, landing three meters away.
The dark tunnel was filled with a musty smell.
Zhang Jie's back was pressed against the cold, damp stone wall when he suddenly heard a whooshing sound to his left. He sharply leaned back, and Yinyang's bamboo skewer grazed past the tip of his nose.
"Not bad," the voice came from his right-rear, "but you forgot to listen for the echo."
The reflection off the stone wall caused the sound source's position to be inaccurate.
A day passed quietly.
As the setting sun lengthened the tree shadows, Zhang Jie finally caught a weakness. His leg sweep kicked up dead leaves, and as Yinyang retreated, he saw the other's left foot slightly turn inward, a preparatory movement for a nunchaku starting stance.
But just as he was about to succeed, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his temple.
"Anger is a great catalyst." Yinyang's bamboo skewer lightly touched his temporal artery, while his other hand supported Zhang Jie's unbalanced body. "But a true killer,"
He leaned close to Zhang Jie's ear, his breath brushing against his sweaty temples, "must be like a viper, completely still before striking."
Yinyang completely imparted his understanding of assassination to Zhang Jie. Although in the Sacrifice Squad, they mostly appeared as hard-hitting figures, sometimes they also needed to perform special operations.
After finishing Yinyang's special training, Zhang Jie went to Rod's area.
In the twilight, the ruins of the ammunition depot resembled a dormant steel beast, and rusty shell casings made a crisp clinking sound under Rod's feet.
He squatted beside a pile of C4 explosives, a 'snap' sound coming from the chewing gum between his teeth.
"Watch closely, rookie."
Rod pulled a piece of putty-like explosive from his tactical vest, gently kneading it in his palm. "C4's temper..."
He slapped the explosive onto Zhang Jie's chest. "is fiercer than a leopard in heat."
Zhang Jie's pupils suddenly contracted, but the explosive stuck to his combat uniform like putty, not moving an inch.
"Ha!" Rod revealed a mouthful of white teeth. "Scared, weren't you? This stuff won't explode even if you shoot it."
"Nonsense, of course I know it won't explode, but I'm still scared." Zhang Jie couldn't help but roll his eyes.
Ignoring Zhang Jie's grumbling, Rod's fingers deftly pinched out a small indentation. "But add this..."
A miniature detonator was gently embedded. "and it can send you to meet God."
Rod's training began.
For the blindfolded bomb disposal segment, Rod tightened a black cloth strip over Zhang Jie's eyes.
"Remember," his voice was close to Zhang Jie's ear, carrying the scent of mint chewing gum, "the detonator weighs 21.3 grams. An error of more than 1 gram..."
A muffled sound of a simulated explosion came from a distance. "will result in this."
Zhang Jie's fingers trembled.
The C4 felt like cold putty, but the threads on the detonator were maddeningly fine.
When he finally assembled the components, Rod suddenly shoved an alarm clock into his hand.
"Now, use this as a delay device."
In the booby trap making class, Rod magically pulled materials from a pile of trash.
"A true artist,"
He tightly wrapped electrical tape around the battery contacts. "can kill with trash."
Steel wire twirled between his fingers, and a simple tripwire device gradually took shape. "Remember, it's not the bomb that kills..."
He pulled the tripwire, and a mineral water bottle exploded with a 'bang'. He tapped his own head, "it's imagination."
The final test came without warning.
Rod kicked Zhang Jie into an armored vehicle, and the heavy hatch 'clanged' shut.
A timer's ticking sound came from the vehicle's floor, and a red light blinked rhythmically in the darkness.
"20 seconds, kid." Rod's voice came through the radio, accompanied by static, "And by the way, this time it's real."
Damn it!
This joking way of speaking made Zhang Jie's heart leap instantly. These madmen were truly capable of doing such things.
Zhang Jie's forehead pressed against the cold armor on the vehicle floor.
Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose onto the circuit board. He noticed that the color order of the detonator wires was completely opposite to what Rod had demonstrated that morning.
As the scissors hovered above the red wire, Rod's loud laughter suddenly burst through the radio:
"Hesitate and it explodes!"
The moment the scissors closed, the timer stopped at 00:01.
The hatch was kicked open by Rod, and the afterglow of the setting sun fell on Zhang Jie's pale face.
"Do you know why you survived?"
Rod reached out and pulled him up, his palms covered in calluses. "Because you finally learned to..."
Rod patted him on the shoulder, "trust your own judgment."
"Haha! Art is explosion!"
When Rod went crazy, he was truly insane. How normal could someone who treated bombs as toys be?
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