Could this be everything that happened before I went to the Federation in September?
But why was he embedded here?
What does all this have to do with him?
Just as Jiang Cheng was extremely confused, the two women who had come out of the room first walked slowly to the center of the open space.
His gaze followed the table and fell upon a small, light-colored wooden table placed under the shade of a tree. On it lay a considerable amount of rather exquisite food and a large quantity of medicine. Judging from the amount of supplies on the table, Jiang Cheng figured that this so-called "assessment" was probably not the first time it had been conducted, which explained the thorough and meticulous preparation of the supplies.
The blonde girl walked confidently to the table, skipping over the dazzling array of items. Instead, she grabbed a roll of bandage, unwrapped it, and bit into it. Then, she unscrewed a large bottle of alcohol and poured it onto the large wound on her left arm. The alcohol washed away the blood and grime, but the intense pain from the alcohol absorbing bacterial proteins and causing them to dehydrate and coagulate made the blonde girl frown.
"Tsk."
Whether it was because she had a large roll of bandage in her mouth or because she deliberately muffled her voice, the blonde girl didn't utter a single cry of pain from beginning to end. She just frowned deeply, and only after watching the flesh and blood at the wound stop being dirty did she wrap the bandage around half of her arm.
It did look a bit awkward to bandage herself with one hand, but the blonde girl showed no intention of asking for help. September, standing to the side, merely glanced at her indifferently, pretending not to see her, and walked straight to the other side of the table.
Apart from a few drops of blood on her face, September looked completely unchanged and uninjured. Her dark blue silk kimono covered her entire body from head to toe, with no other decorations except for the orange-red sash at her waist. She slightly lowered her head to straighten the wrinkles on her tomesode, then reached for a rice ball on the table and began to eat it in small bites.
Although September must have lost a lot of energy during the "test," she still ate the food prepared on the table with elegance and leisurely pace, devouring steak, rice balls, and fried food one by one. Jiang Cheng looked at her face, which was as good as her appetite, and couldn't help but feel a little more wary.
People who have just crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood will usually be affected to some extent, at the very least their appetite will not be so good. But the petite September can still eat so much, which shows that her mind has not been affected at all.
Is she used to it?
A shadow fell over Jiang Cheng's eyes as he stared intently at the two women at the table.
Meanwhile, after putting a transparent waterproof film over her arm, the blonde girl had finished treating the wound on her left arm. She gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and began to eat.
I have to say, this woman's eating habits...
It's not very elegant.
Even though the blonde girl's left arm was severely injured, it didn't seem to affect her eating at all. She stuffed food into her mouth with both arms, and Jiang Cheng observed that she didn't seem to care about the taste of the food at all, only choosing high-calorie, high-protein items and swallowing them down in no time. Even when the sauce from the beef accidentally splattered on her face, she simply wiped it off with her sleeve and continued to eat with gusto.
For the blonde girl, eating had become a utterly tasteless affair. It seemed she ate only to maintain peak physical condition, so she could perform better in her next assessment.
Seeing this, Jiang Cheng seemed to understand something.
The people in the room...
Although their identities and origins are unknown, only those who survive the "test" are qualified to contact the camera and stand here safely, enjoying the food and medicine prepared in advance by unknown individuals on the table.
He seemed to understand.
If Jiang Cheng is not mistaken, this should be the assessment site where the Demu family is training assassins, where September is currently located.
The perversions of Japan are well-known far and wide, so I won't go into details.
Jiang Cheng had heard in the main plane that every major family in the Sakura Kingdom would train a group of special forces assassins who underwent special training and were called "death warriors".
These so-called "death warriors" are all trained from childhood within large families, with extremely strict selection criteria and training methods. When they are about to come of age, the death warriors of the same batch will engage in an internal battle, and the one or more who survive at the end will be the death warriors who will serve the family's honor for life.
From childhood to death, assassins are absolutely bound by their clan's constraints, and their status is extremely low, much like... the most loyal dogs and beasts within the clan. At their master's command, they act ruthlessly and without hesitation, summoned and dismissed at a moment's notice. Yet, despite their immense contributions, assassins hold the lowest status within the clan; a few scraps of leftover food casually tossed under the table by their master become their daily delicacy.
They carried out the most dangerous missions, yet suffered inhuman treatment. Their masters treated them like pets, never caring about their lives or deaths, only whether they completed their missions.
It's fair to say their treatment was extremely poor.
Thinking of this, Jiang Cheng lowered his head slightly.
He didn't sympathize with these suicide soldiers; he just felt a tightness in his chest.
At the same time, he was also extremely uncomfortable from the strong smell of blood in the small dark room. He also felt a throbbing pain in his chest, as if a large hand was squeezing his heart tightly, then releasing it just when he was about to lose control, only to squeeze it again before he could catch his breath. After this happened several times, large beads of cold sweat fell from Jiang Cheng's forehead and slammed onto the ground.
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