Chapter 34 - Those Capable of Dueling a Sharpie

Mira Jo looked capable in her military combat uniform, with her short hair tied behind her head and curled bangs falling over her temples, her expression cold and composed.

The only difference was that she was not carrying a source energy maneuvering device. Instead, she had brought her Mira 11 autocannon.

It was the evening after their regular training, and the wounded recruits of Dormitory 11 stood waiting in a corner of the training ground, awaiting their extra training. When they saw Mira striding toward them, ignoring the countless eyes following her across the field, they felt an inexplicable sense of pride.

“So, Platoon Leader Mira, would you consider marrying a man from the Oriental Republic someday?” Yang Qingbai asked. He had been holding that question in all afternoon.

“Of course. I’d be perfectly happy to stay in the Oriental Republic Army Group until retirement.” A click came from her autocannon. “So I imagine I’ll eventually marry a soldier from the Oriental Republic Army Group.”

Standing in the glow of the setting sun, Mira pulled back the bolt and walked forward coolly with her gun in hand.

“But that would require a long period of getting to know each other first, wouldn’t it?” she added, suppressing her smile.

And how will we get to know each other? she thought. By becoming my platoon members, of course.

After Mira walked away, Yang Qingbai turned to the others with a blissful, vacant expression. “Did you hear that?”

“We heard it. But why are you so happy?” Wen Jifei quipped. “She said she’d be willing to marry a man from the Oriental Republic, not a toad from the Oriental Republic.”

Everyone in Dormitory 11 had become close, so no one took offense. They had gradually discovered that, aside from being extremely sensitive to the word “useless,” Yang Qingbai could laugh off almost any teasing.

Relationships were like that. After enough time together, people naturally formed judgments about one another and learned the proper limits of jokes.

Han Qingyu was the exception to this in Dormitory 11.

The others never quite understood him. There always seemed to be a mismatch between the person he appeared to be and the things he did.

Han Qingyu had already earned a reputation among the recruits through his strength and abilities. However, he didn’t look fierce or intimidating, nor was there any brutality or violence in his gaze. Sometimes it was as though he rarely experienced strong emotions or impulses. Such people often felt fake, but Han Qingyu somehow felt sincere, honest even.

Even Lao Jian believed that honesty was Han Qingyu’s true nature, although he had also said that there was a fortitude within him.

That impression came from seeing Han Qingyu’s determination when he truly desired something. The first time, it had been money.

For the sake of his parents, he had ignored a blade at his throat, suppressing his fear while repeatedly reminding the person threatening him that he had saved them. He had gone so far as to shamelessly ask about salary and death benefits, and even requested payment before service.

When Han Qingyu desperately wanted something, his courage, principles, and sense of embarrassment seemed to become secondary.

In truth, he really was that sort of person.

If he wanted money, he asked for it openly. He was willing to both hide in a ditch and endure humiliation, or decisively make a gamble and take action as long as it meant he would survive. When he hungered for meat, he hadn’t hesitated to create chaos.

He was an ordinary, kindhearted man concerned with food and shelter, but could become bandit-like if prey or life-and-death stakes appeared before him.

***

“Come over here,” Mira called from beside the wooden duel platform that had yet to be removed.

As the injured recruits limped toward her, they discussed the kind of man someone as beautiful and capable as Mira would eventually marry.

This discussion led Wen Jifei to another topic.

“Hey, Qingyu, what do you think of Zhang Dao’an?” he said, pausing until Han Qingyu glanced over. “He told me today that he was a lot like me when he was young.”

“You’re certainly similar when it comes to making people dislike you.”

“Get lost. I’m serious.”

“I don’t really know him, to be honest.”

“Fine. It’s just that when he spoke to me earlier, he seemed genuinely sincere. It didn’t seem fake at all. As for what happened afterward... Forget about it.” Wen Jifei quickly abandoned his train of thought about Zhang Dao’an and changed topics. “Then what about Lao Jian? What kind of person is he?”

Lao Jian? He’s the reason for this whole unbelievable mess, Han Qingyu thought, though in truth, he hadn’t seriously considered this question before.

“I can’t quite read him,” Han Qingyu said after a moment. “He’s a university physics professor. A cultured man, supposedly. The country definitely needs people like him. He could probably do research in the Azure Coalition, but he’s obsessed with fighting. Even when he gets the chance to rotate to the regiment headquarters, he asks to return to the front.”

Wen Jifei nodded thoughtfully. “Hm.”

“Sometimes he seems detached enough to give up everything. Other times, he becomes absurdly stubborn over a little pride and makes himself suffer for no reason.” Han Qingyu gestured as he spoke. “I once saw a Sharpie send him flying. It looked exactly like a duck being kicked into the air, flapping wildly before crashing down. But I’ve never seen anyone spit blood as calmly as he does. He’s impressive, at least when he’s coughing up blood.”

Han Qingyu had no idea that only about fifteen minutes earlier, Lao Jian, shabbily dressed with a strange expression on his face, had awkwardly asked Mira if she wanted to become his goddaughter.

The whole situation felt both awkward and creepy.

Mira had stared at him with a furrowed brow, thought for a moment, then aimed the muzzle of her autocannon directly at him.

Lao Jian fled immediately.

“What about Regiment Commander Li?” Wen Jifei asked. “You’ve been to his office. Does he seem intimidating?”

“He’s a decent guy.” Han Qingyu had a great impression of Regiment Commander Li because he was an easily persuadable officer who was protective of his subordinates.

“That’s it? You didn’t feel intimidated or anything? I heard that he once fought a Sharpie alone for three full minutes,” said Wen Jifei, ever aware of gossip because of his social nature.

Han Qingyu was shocked. “Three minutes? Alone?”

The speed and power of a Sharpie sweeping their pillar sword flashed in his mind. The idea of handling that for three minutes alone seemed unimaginable.

“Exactly, but that’s what I heard. He ended up badly injured, but he lasted three minutes. Crazy, right?” Wen Jifei’s eyes swept wistfully across the vast training field. “That got me wondering. Are there people in the Coalition who can actually fight a Sharpie one-on-one? I think there might be—”

“What are you guys talking about?” Mira interrupted, leaning against a wooden platform with a smile.

They had reached her without noticing.

“Platoon Leader, are the strongest soldiers in the Azure Coalition capable of fighting a Sharpie alone?” Wen Jifei asked directly, fire in his eyes. “Do people like that exist?”

Everyone stared at her in anticipation.

“Of course they do.” Mira smiled proudly and looked north. “The old man from our Only Witness Legion could cut down Sharpies by himself when he was young.”

According to her, the old man had been the shared leader of all six active armies in the Oriental Republic Army Group for over twenty years. His codename within the army group’s council was “Mountain Goat.” She told them not to underestimate this because mountain goats were the most combative animals out there.

“And he wasn’t the only one. My father told me the Ninth Army once had someone like that too...” Her eyes shone with the admiration of a young girl speaking about her idol, but then the light faded. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Why not?” the recruits asked her in bewilderment, feeling as though their eyes had just been opened to a whole new world, only to be left hanging.

“Because—I just can’t,” Mira stammered in a panic.

As if avoiding the question, she turned and slapped the wooden platform.

“Alright, time to focus,” she ordered. “It’s time for serious training.”

Han Qingyu remained distracted.

So, there are people who can actually duel a Sharpie. And more than one, too.

This revelation felt like a curtain being pulled back from the sky, revealing a new frontier that stirred something deep inside him.

This was unavoidable. What young man, upon first taking up a blade, did not dream of becoming invincible?

Unfortunately, the question Han Qingyu had been pondering since he joined still had no answer, despite his quiet search for more information.

What exactly am I? What result will my source energy integration test produce?