In the monitoring room, Su Wanwan stared at dozens of split screens, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. The soldiers participating in the selection process on the screens had distorted faces, some even vomiting uncontrollably, while Han Feng stood at the deepest part of the gas field, not even wearing a protective mask, calmly observing everyone's reactions.
"Is this guy... made of iron?" Su Wanwan muttered to herself.
Only two hours had passed since the morning training began. All the trainees were taken to a diving training pool deep within the base. The water was murky and icy cold, with ice blocks floating on the surface.
"Underwater breath-holding shooting." Han Feng held up a modified Type 92 pistol. "The target is five meters deep. Three bullets per person, at least two must hit the bullseye."
He personally demonstrated – leaping into the icy pool, diving to the depths like a black shark, and firing three shots in quick succession. When Han Feng surfaced, the monitor showed that all three bullsiers had been accurately hit.
"It's your turn." He shook the water droplets off his hair.
The others also gritted their teeth and jumped into the icy pool. The biting cold water immediately caused many to cramp, and rescuers stood at the edge of the pool, ready to pull them out at any moment. Liu Xiaoran was one of the few who completed the task, but when he surfaced, his lips were already blue.
"Barely passing," Han Feng commented. "The last item."
The training ground was transformed into a confined space filled with bright light and noise. They had to fight against veteran members of the Dragon Abyss team under this extreme interference while answering randomly generated tactical questions.
"Attention allocation is key to survival." Han Feng's voice remained clear amidst the piercing alarm, "Begin!"
Screams immediately echoed across the training ground. Under the flashing lights and 120-decibel noise, even experienced special forces soldiers became clumsy novices. Some crouched down, clutching their heads; some punched the air; and some even vomited.
Han Feng noticed that Liu Xiaoran's performance was once again remarkable. He was like a well-wound machine, precisely blocking every attack while answering tactical questions with concise language. When the bell rang to end the three minutes, fewer than ten people were still standing on the field, and he was one of them.
"Morning training is over," Han Feng finally announced. "We'll continue at 2 PM."
The candidates, as if granted a pardon, collapsed to the ground. Even the few with the best physical condition were soaked to the bone and their eyes were glazed over, as if they had been pulled out of the water.
In the monitoring room, Su Wanwan unconsciously touched her arm. She recalled the scene last month when Han Feng trained her in close combat—at the time, she thought that was the limit of human potential, but now it seemed that Han Feng hadn't even used one-tenth of that intensity.
"You went easy on me..." she muttered softly, a strange warmth welling up inside her.
On the training field, Han Feng walked to the center and looked at Liu Xiaoran: "You actually came?"
“I said I wanted to join you!” Liu Xiaoran answered decisively.
"Are you prepared to conceal your strength? I already asked you that last time," Han Feng suddenly asked.
A strange light flashed in Liu Xiaoran's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure: "I think I'm ready." He paused.
Han Feng didn't answer, but before turning to leave, he said, "Your performance this morning was not bad, but it's not enough. Let's see if you can keep it up."
Liu Xiaoran stared at Han Feng's retreating figure, his fists clenching unconsciously. Previously, he considered himself one of the top figures in the military, but since the last mission Long Yuan participated in in the Northern Territory, he had discovered this fact and racked his brains trying to join it.
In the mess hall, the soldiers' hands trembled as they held chopsticks. Iron Tower and Night Owl sat in a corner, watching this group of disheveled elites, and they both recalled their own training from years ago.
"Much tougher than our year." Iron Tower stuffed a steamed bun into his mouth. "Captain Han's got some serious steelmaking skills."
The owl chuckled: "Because he knows what we're facing."
In front of the monitor screen, Su Wanwan pulled up the combat footage of Han Feng during the mission in the Northern Territory. In the footage, Han Feng was fighting desperately against the "Blood Wolf" who had been injected with gene serum, and every move was extremely dangerous.
"I see..." She finally understood why Han Feng was so strict. Compared to the gene warriors, today's training was indeed just an appetizer.
At four o'clock in the morning on the third day, the sharp air raid siren replaced the usual whistle. After several days of training, the number of people had been reduced from eighty-seven to only sixteen. These sixteen exhausted team members sprang up from their cots and assembled fully armed within thirty seconds, a conditioned reflex ingrained in their bones.
Han Feng was nowhere to be seen on the training field; only the Iron Tower stood with his arms crossed, his muscles clearly defined beneath his camouflage uniform.
"No physical training today." His voice was like sandpaper scraping. "Everyone, get into the psychological warfare room."
The psychological warfare room was a pure white, enclosed space, devoid of any decoration, except for sixteen metal chairs arranged in a circle. Night Owl stood in the center, holding a black metal box in his hand.
"Sit down," he commanded.
The metal chair was icy cold. Liu Xiaoran noticed an electrode patch on each armrest, but he said nothing and simply sat down quietly. The other team members exchanged wary glances; after the "special treatment" of the past two days, no one dared to underestimate any of Long Yuan's arrangements.
The owl opened the metal box and took out sixteen syringes: "Today we're testing drug tolerance."
A gasp escaped someone in the group. A captain from the border defense forces couldn't help but stand up: "This is against regulations! The military has explicitly prohibited it!"
"Sit down." Night Owl didn't even lift his eyelids. "Or get lost."
The captain's face turned ashen, but he eventually sat back down.
Syringes were distributed to everyone. The owl demonstrated how to inject himself into his vein: "The dosage is the same, but the effect varies from person to person. The eight who last the longest stay."
At this point, one of the team members stood up and said, "Report, could you please specify the exact ingredients of the drug?"
The owl remained unfazed: "Confidential."
Everyone nodded and, without hesitation, inserted the needles into the veins of their arms.
The moment the liquid entered his veins, an Air Force special forces soldier sprang from his chair: "Something's wrong! My eyes—" He rubbed his eyes frantically, "I can't see!"
Immediately afterwards, more people began to exhibit unusual reactions: some scratched their skin as if it were crawling with insects; some curled up on the ground and sobbed; and others shouted at the air.
At this moment, only Liu Xiaoran remained quietly seated, his breathing steady, and even his pupils were not dilated. But upon closer inspection, one could see that his back was soaked with sweat, and his fingers had left several dents on the armrest.
"He's just toughing it out," Han Feng suddenly spoke up in the monitoring room. "It's not that the medication is ineffective; it's that his willpower is suppressing his physiological reactions."
Su Wanwan's eyes widened: "What exactly is that injection?"
"Saline solution with a trace amount of hallucinogen." Han Feng chuckled. "The dosage is so small that even a child wouldn't react."
"What? Then they..."
"Psychological suggestion." Han Feng pulled up everyone's background information.
Su Wanwan suddenly realized—this wasn't a drug test, but a psychological war. Those "symptoms" were all the result of the subjects' own self-suggestion.
Three hours later, when the last candidate pressed the abstention button due to "hallucination".
Night Owl pressed the stop button: "Test complete."
In an instant, all the "symptoms" vanished. The Air Force special forces soldier blinked in disbelief: "I...I can see again?"
"Congratulations everyone on passing the final test." Night Owl's tone was unusually sarcastic. "You were just injected with Vitamin B12."
The training ground was deathly silent, then erupted in a roar.
"Are you kidding me!"
"You're playing us for fools!"
"I almost thought I was going to die!"
In the monitoring room, Han Feng said, "Notify them that the final assessment is tomorrow."
The notification of the final assessment exploded among the candidates like a bomb. The sixteen would be divided into four groups to conduct an urban counter-terrorism drill. But there was only one rule: there were no rules.
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