He put down his chopsticks and bowl. "Well, I'm done eating. I have training today, so I'll be going now."

"Okay, go ahead," the old man waved his hand. "Be careful."

The words "be careful" gave Fang Rong a feeling that he should be careful of what was behind him. Fang Rong blushed furiously and ran out as if his life depended on it.

My goodness, the old man is so hard to fool.

Today is the last day of training, and tomorrow is the day we escort the president to his arrival. It's a matter of life and death!

So everyone trained like crazy, and Fang Rong was no exception, doing all sorts of tests with her life on the line.

"Disarm your weapon!" The instructor fired a shot into the air, which acted as a signal, and everyone below sprang into action.

Fang Rong quickly disassembled the gun.

"Load the gun."

He quickly mounted the gun. The gun's structure wasn't complicated, but it was a bit difficult to do it within five seconds. Fortunately, he practiced a lot when no one was around, and now he was pretty good at it. Passing within five seconds was no problem for him.

"shooting!"

Everyone raised their arms to fire, and the gunshots rang out. Opposite them was the shooting board, and next to it was a score scanner.

Fang Rong's shooting is his weakness, and his results are not ideal. However, he excels in one-on-one combat and mecha abilities, especially his superpowers, which allow him to kill opponents instantly.

They also showed great enthusiasm in other training sessions. Although they can't keep up now, I believe they will catch up soon.

The instructor thought highly of him.

"10,000-meter race." The instructor pressed the timer. "Start the timer."

Hundreds of figures flew past, with Fang Rong among them. He was still not fully recovered and the 10,000-meter run was a bit of a struggle, but he forced himself to finish in order not to fall too far behind.

The training continued non-stop, including frog jumps, push-ups, Sanda (Chinese kickboxing), and special abilities training.

The instructor seemed to think that even last-minute preparations could be effective, so he gave orders with all his might.

Fang Rong was finding it increasingly difficult to cope. During lunch, she couldn't feel comfortable no matter what she did. She would frequently reach out and pull at her underwear, which would rub against her buttocks and cause pain.

For some reason, a new player came today, but unlike him, he was assigned from another team.

He was directly assigned to his post, had connections that made things easier, and was brought directly to the instructor by the general, so the instructor dared not neglect him.

Besides, Fang Rong had a good foundation, possessed superpowers, and was equipped with a mecha, so she caught up in just a few days.

He was also very hardworking. Knowing that he couldn't compare with others, he would stay behind to train after others left. He didn't rest when he went home at night either. This is how he gradually got into the zone in just a few days.

However, this newcomer apparently said that another team was fighting a terrifying figure, but they were all wiped out, and now he's the only one left, so he was assigned here.

When it comes to newcomers, the veterans always want to give them a taste of their own medicine so they'll be more careful in the future.

This new recruit was incompetent. His family brought him a lot of good food, but he didn't share any of it. Naturally, this angered the other veterans, and he couldn't help but relapse into his old habits and cause trouble for them.

Fang Rong saw that he was still young. Although he had good combat experience, he was still lacking in personnel matters. He would occasionally talk back to the instructors and did not know how to be flexible. This kind of person is most likely to suffer losses.

"Young man, what good stuff are you eating?" The man who tried to bully Fang Rong last time reappeared, putting his arm around Fang Rong's shoulder like a close buddy. "How can you not share good stuff?"

Fang Rong thought for a moment and seemed to recall hearing someone call him Zhang Yang, implying that he was as flamboyant as his reputation.

"I've already finished eating, that's all." The young man, still confused, showed him the empty bag.

"Oh, you're finished eating?" Zhang Yang nudged him. "Then let's play baseball together. Do you know how to play baseball?"

He pulled a baseball bat from under the table; it was quite long, with one side wider than the other.

Although the training is intense, they are still given a lunch break, during which they can choose to play or sleep.

"I'm not very good at baseball," the thin boy said hesitantly.

Like Fang Hua, he was fair-skinned and slender, with delicate and handsome features. However, Fang Hua had a refined appearance, while he had thick eyebrows and big eyes, so there were some differences.

"We can teach you."

"That's right, that's right."

"Zhang Yang is the best baseball player."

People naturally like to join in the fun; if someone starts a commotion, others will inevitably follow suit and fan the flames.

"It's just a game, don't be afraid." Zhang Yang struck a baseball pose, swinging from left to right, hitting the boy every time.

The boy was trapped between the table and the wall, unable to escape and forced to silently endure the situation.

"Zhang Yang," Fang Rong called out to him, "Let's play a game too."

He didn't want to stand up for himself, but this boy looked so much like Fang Hua. If Fang Hua were bullied one day, would someone help him?

Everyone who helps others hopes that one day they will also have someone to help them when they encounter problems.

"The instructor said my shooting is terrible, I always miss. I don't think he's right. Shall we try?" Fang Rong carried a gun, which came with his mech. It was just that the range was a bit longer, but everything else was the same, and it used energy.

"Fang Rong, what's wrong with you?" Zhang Yang stopped what he was doing and pointed at him with his baseball bat.

"Just trying it out, what's there to be afraid of?" Fang Rong cocked his gun, the red thread of the gun appearing, aimed precisely at Zhang Yang's forehead.

"Try shooting if you dare." Zhang Yang came over with a baseball bat.

"What's there to be afraid of?" Fang Rong lay down and squinted one eye. "Don't move. Although I'm confident in myself, it wouldn't be good if I hit you."

This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading!