Chapter 9 The first day of training, elite assessment

The next day, Marine Ford, Navy boot camp.

A ray of morning light rippled across the sky, and a half-red sphere peeked out between the clouds.

Today was Loya's first day in the navy, so he rarely got up early, nibbling on a bunch of buns while running. After all, if you don't need money, it's better to eat more.

On the way to the playground, the recruits who were hurrying along the side of the road couldn't help but glance at him a few more times.

"This man is so good!"

"Is he that Loya? I heard that Lieutenant General Mole brought him back."

"It should be him... Be quiet. Yesterday, he was kicked into the air by Lieutenant General Mole with a fist, and he smashed through the armor of the warship. He seems to be another monster."

"Uh-huh."

The news of Loya joining the navy had spread quickly; after all, the warship that was returned for refurbishment was quite a spectacle. At first, everyone thought that Lieutenant General Mole had met an attack at sea, but only after careful inquiries did they find out the reason. Loya's name began to circulate.

Loya didn't care about their discussions. As a traveler, he still had the illusion of watching a 3D movie.

At this moment, Loya had also figured out the timeline. It was now the sixteenth year of the Great Voyage Era, in 1516 of the Haiyuan Calendar. There was still one year before Ace set sail, who was currently preparing in Windmill Town.

He trotted all the way to the playground, where many recruits had gathered.

While nibbling on the last bun, Loya glanced at his colleagues around him.

"Bearded? I don't know."

"Blonde sea horse? I don't know either."

"The guy with the two swords... still don't know him."

After a quick survey, Loya swallowed the last mouthful with confidence. It was great; it was all tricks!

The recruits were all dressed in similar uniforms, which meant that he wouldn't encounter any messy situations, and he could train under Zefa with confidence.

Soon, a person dressed as an instructor came to the playground. Judging by his rank, he was a major general, and he shouted loudly to the recruits, "The seventh team! All assemble!"

The recruits who had gathered slowly began to respond as he appeared, quickly running together to stand in several columns. Loya didn't know where to stand, but fortunately, the number of recruits was not very neat, and there were still two vacancies in the last row, so he hurried over to stand there.

After a brief opening remark, the instructor turned to his side and saluted to the right: "General Zefa, the seventh team of the recruit battalion, all should be 53 people, and there are 53 people. Please instruct!"

Loya heard the words and looked over; sure enough, in a corner of the grass in the playground, Zefa in a purple suit had appeared there at some unknown time. The recruits on the playground also saw him, causing the formation to become chaotic.

"That's General Zefa! I'm so excited!"

"Yeah, I actually saw General Zefa with my own eyes!"

"Hey, what does it mean that General Zefa is here at the boot camp today? Isn't he generally only in charge of the training of the elite camp?"

"Probably because of that..."

"That thing? Could it be!"

Hearing the buzzing sound in the team, the major general officer's face darkened as he roared, "Silence!"

The chaotic team instantly fell silent, and the recruits held their heads high, not daring to cause any trouble.

At this moment, Zefa walked to the front of the team. Looking at the energetic recruits before him, he frowned slightly. Although most recruits who entered the Navy Headquarters training were children of naval officers and had a solid foundation, the recruits in recent years were far weaker in strength and temperament compared to previous cohorts.

But now was not the time to express dissatisfaction. Today, he had taken the time to come to the boot camp to see that good seedling and announce the upcoming events.

"I'm here today to inform you of one thing. Presumably, some of you already know that, yes! The annual elite assessment of the boot camp is about to begin!"

Whoa!

Although some speculation had circulated, everyone was still very excited when they heard Zefa officially announce the news. The elite battalion meant that once they graduated, they would all hold the rank of lieutenant at the very least!

They were recruits in the headquarters, but if their strength was insufficient, it was possible for them to graduate as first-class soldiers. Soldiers who didn't aspire to become generals were not good soldiers. As members of the navy and army, who didn't want to climb to a higher position? Joining the elite battalion was a shortcut, enough to save them years of hard work.

"Quiet! If there are more talkers, everyone will run 100 laps on the playground!" The major general instructor stood up again to maintain order, and this time he also prepared the unique punishment method of the army: sitting in a row!

All of a sudden, even those who couldn't keep their mouths shut found themselves immediately "helped" to shut up by those around them.

Zefa watched this scene expressionlessly and waited for the team to calm down before continuing: "However, don't be too happy! The elite assessment is also called the actual combat assessment! In other words, you will need to face the real enemy. Only those who survive the battle of life and death can join the elite camp. Understand?"

"Yes!" The voice was weak, and it seemed that many recruits were frightened by the word "survival" coming from Zefa. Seeing this, Zefa frowned impatiently and shouted again: "I didn't eat breakfast! I ask you, do you understand?"

"Understood!"

This time, their voices were much louder and more uniform. No matter what they were thinking, they couldn't provoke Zefa now, or else they wouldn't have good consequences later.

How could Zefa, who had guided countless new recruits, not see what this group was thinking? But he didn't explain further. Instead, he nodded and turned to leave. However, he didn't go too far; he just sat on the second floor of the opposite wall, watching the recruit training through the glass window.

Was the actual combat assessment really so terrifying that it was associated with survival rates?

Of course not.

Although the navy was a fighting force that needed to confront pirates to the death, it was not a cruel underground arena. It was only possible to pursue the elite of one hundred or one thousand miles; how could that cause a large number of new recruits to die?

The first actual combat assessment for recruits generally involved sending them to a small island where the navy bred beasts. They would hunt those beasts, and their performances would be judged accordingly. Moreover, the island was filled with surveillance phone bugs, and at least one general accompanied the instructors to ensure safety.

The purpose of this exercise was to allow the recruits to see blood. Only after they had truly witnessed bloodshed would they transform from mere novices who only knew how to train hard into soldiers capable of fighting pirates with real swords and guns.

At that point, it would not just be an actual combat assessment; the word "assessment" should be omitted altogether.

However, there was no need to say too much to the recruits. Once they were guaranteed safety and lost the fear of death, how could they become independent soldiers? Flowers in a greenhouse couldn't withstand the ravages of wind and rain, and soldiers who didn't understand the concept of death couldn't bear the name of the navy.

The Navy Headquarters was not a nursing home.

---

Immediately after Zefa left, the training began. First, everyone ran 200 laps around the playground. This was the daily routine of the seven squads of the boot camp.

The playground of the boot camp was very large, with a full two kilometers in a circle. After all, there were seven teams of recruits here; if it weren't big enough, they would need to train in batches due to the hundreds of recruits.

The seventh team, which Loya was part of, was the last team. Only the last team would be dissatisfied with their position in the queue. However, this last position wasn't determined by strength; it was simply divided according to the order of joining.

Thanks to the nine-year compulsory education, Loya had mastered proficient long-distance running skills. He did not take the lead by relying solely on his physical strength; instead, he maintained a rhythm of three steps, one exhalation, three steps, and one inhalation, keeping himself in the middle of the team—neither too fast nor too slow.

As dozens of laps went by, gradually, some recruits behind him began to overtake him, but he remained unfazed; he only aimed not to finish last. As the count reached 100 laps, a small number of recruits started to fall behind and were gradually overtaken by him.

In the final 50 laps, Loya maintained a constant speed, surpassing one recruit after another, and came to the front of the team. There were not many who could maintain the lead at this point—only two or three.

"That's some good physical fitness!" Loya observed the guys around him with admiration. After running for so long, there was no extra movement in their bodies except for heavy breathing, and they stepped firmly on every stride.