Chapter 9: Brutal Training

"This is true, I wasn't lying. I've studied all the things the teacher talked about before," Roland kept explaining as he saw Jobs doubting his words.

Jobs was a rare friend, and Roland didn't want him to misunderstand and lose this friendship. But if his explanations didn't convince Jobs, then there was no way around it.

"Sigh, alright then. Looks like there's no hope for me," Jobs said disheartened.

At this moment, Jobs had already believed Roland's words. He knew Roland wasn't lying because, as the son of a merchant, Jobs had seen many people lie to sell their goods. So Jobs had long honed the ability to easily see through who was lying.

"Take it easy. If you can't get it, you can come to me during the break, and I'll teach you," Roland said, reaching out to pat Jobs on the shoulder.

"Really? That's great! Thank you so much, Roland," Jobs said, overcome with joy. He tightly grasped Roland's hands, trembling slightly with excitement.

"Alright, alright. It's nothing. Come find me during the break," Roland reassured.

"Woo-woo~"

Just as Roland and Jobs were talking, a hurried bugle call suddenly sounded.

"Not good! It's the bugle call. Quick, assemble!"

Upon hearing the sound, Roland immediately realized it was a bugle call, indicating an urgent assembly ordered by the instructor.

Everyone present went crazy, rushing out as if possessed. They all knew how brutal Instructor Pierson could be; if they were late for assembly, who knows what Pierson would do to them.

"Hurry... hurry, assemble!"

"Run faster, we're going to be late!"

With the bugle call ringing, students hurriedly left the classroom and ran towards the playground.

By the time the bugle call faded away, most students had already reached the playground. However, there were still a few who hadn't arrived on time, and even those who did were panting heavily from the run.

"Instructor... Instructor Pierson, what's going on? Why... why the rush to assemble?" Jobs asked Roland breathlessly as they stood together.

Perhaps due to his upbringing in a merchant family, Jobs had always eaten well, which had made him a bit overweight. This kind of long-distance running was really difficult for him.

"I don't know!" Roland shook his head.

"You're late. Your movements are too slow. If this were the battlefield, with such slow assembly speed, you'd have been wiped out already, not a single remnant left," a harsh voice interrupted the murmurs among the students.

"Now, at ease. Stand at attention!"

Instructor Pierson's rough voice rang out.

"There's still an hour before mealtime, so your task now is to run to the southernmost hill of the school, and then run back. Of course, the school cafeteria won't wait for you. If you're too slow, sorry, but you won't be eating dinner tonight."

Instructor Pierson turned his head and scanned the students present, his gaze stern and unwavering. For a moment, not a single student dared to meet his gaze.

"Alright, no more dawdling. If you delay any further, you really won't be eating tonight. Now, run for me!" With Instructor Pierson's command, the entire student body once again began to move, changing formation left and right, and running towards the small hill to the south of the school.

"Hurry up, you bunch of worthless brats! What are you dawdling for? Your speed is slower than an old lady's! At this rate, you won't even make it to sundown. Do you all not want to eat?" 

As the running team began their sprint, students initially managed to keep up with Pierson's pace. However, as the distance lengthened, some started falling behind.

This prompted Instructor Pierson to start cursing loudly, even kicking the unfortunate student lagging behind.

There were no rules against punishing students in military school, but even if there were, Pierson probably wouldn't abide by them. In his eyes, the military was a brutal place, especially in wartime. If they couldn't handle this, they might as well go home early and save themselves from dying on the battlefield.

"Alright! Speed up now. Quick, pick up the pace. From now on, you'll all run at my speed. If anyone can't keep up, you'll start over from the beginning."

Watching the exhausted students, Pierson showed no mercy. Soon, he issued another command.

With that, Pierson paid no more attention to the students and accelerated ahead.

Although Pierson's words were harsh, he wasn't entirely heartless towards the students. He exerted only sixty percent of his strength during the run. Yet, few students could catch up to him.

Gradually, the number of people in the queue diminished until only Roland and Marlin were left trailing behind Pierson.

"Oh! It seems this batch of students isn't all useless! There are actually some who can keep up with me. Well done! You two are promising."

Pierson looked back and was surprised to find students from this batch who could match his pace, which pleased him. He firmly believed these two were promising soldier material. With that in mind, Pierson decided to increase his speed to test their limits.

"This guy is strong! To be able to run with me for so long, I underestimated him."

As Pierson marveled at Roland and Marlin's speed, Marlin Hoffmann, who was keeping pace with Roland, was equally surprised. His ability to keep up was due to his father's training since childhood. His physical fitness far exceeded his peers', so keeping pace with Pierson wasn't unusual. What surprised him was that his roommate, Roland, could also match his pace.

"His name is Roland, right? He'll be a formidable opponent in the future. Looks like I need to keep an eye on him."

As Marlin glanced at Roland beside him, a sense of crisis emerged in his heart.

However, Roland wasn't thinking as much. At this moment, his body didn't allow him to. He was nearing his limit.

Before joining the military academy, Roland had prepared for the assessments, such as shooting and running. But he hadn't expected Instructor Pierson to be so strict, which made his preparations insufficient.

But Roland wasn't one to easily give up, especially when he saw Pierson accelerating. Instead of giving up, he gritted his teeth and kept up with Pierson.

"Hoo-hah~" At last, Roland was exhausted, gasping for breath, but he persisted. He had exerted his last ounce of strength.

Fortune favors the determined. Finally, Roland noticed that the two figures ahead seemed to have stopped.

"Is it... over?" Roland murmured to himself as he looked at the two figures nearby.

At that moment, Roland had reached his limit. He collapsed towards the ground.

As expected, Roland's face was about to make intimate contact with the ground.

But just then, a broad arm reached out, grabbing Roland and preventing him from falling.

"Roland Bonaba! You're quite a determined kid."

The person who came to Roland's aid was none other than Pierson. After observing him closely along the way, Pierson had finally recognized Roland's perseverance.