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From the looks of it, only a few of them looked like soldiers going on a mission outside the border.

Prince glanced down at himself and turned to look at Fatty, who was tinkering with the electronic devices, before moving to look at Qin Mo, who looked like someone who belonged to another industry. Could it be?

Prince seemed to have understood something. Was that the reason they were chosen?

He was reminded of his uncle's words; their entry into the camp had neither been casual nor random. They had been monitored for a period and those who weren't suitable had been sent back to their previous military units.

At this moment, Prince finally understood why Psychiatrist would always chat with them after practice. It was to keep track of their mental state.