I looked down at the suit-wearing man. I had to strain my neck down in an uncomfortable angle to look at his face and I was just a second away from behaving like he doesn’t exist. However, it would be really hard since the expensive perfume he wore tickled my nose. It was almost like he had to make sure he wore copious amounts of it in case people didn’t notice him.
“I know that you have a very serious training schedule but he promised serious support to Power Armor Project! Just humor him a little!”
I glanced over at the man who'd interrupted my training for the day, his flashy suit and overpowering cologne making him impossible to ignore. The frustration bubbling up inside me was hard to contain. My guys already tried to find every opportunity to get out of the training and I was wasting my time with this garbage.
His eyes, though small and shielded behind designer glasses, sparkled with a confidence that came from money rather than strength. He had no clue what kind of world he was stepping into.
“Normal people can’t keep up with super soldiers. I am sure you can see it yourself.”
I said as I waved towards my men. Seeing Lily slack off, I grabbed a stick and threw it as hard as I could and ignored his cries.
“If he wants to be one of us, he first needs to go through the tests, training, and surgeries. We have no time to entertain children.”
The man flinched as the stick whizzed past him, his posture stiffening at the display of raw power. His confidence faltered momentarily, but he quickly composed himself, adjusting his glasses with a smug smirk.
“His compatibility with the modifications is the highest ever recorded. He already had his heart and hormonal gland surgeries, not counting the experimental modifications. I am sure he would prove…”
He stopped and rubbed his hands together in a way that made me feel sick.
“Useful.”
I listened to him while glancing at others.
“Move, maggots! Make sure to finish your 50th rep before I come there! Otherwise, I will tear all of you new ones!”
The squad immediately scrambled into action, their bodies already slick with sweat from earlier drills as the man jumped. His reaction to my roar amused me despite his recovery speed. I turned my attention back to the man in the suit, his sleazy smirk doing little to hide the sense of control he believed he had over the situation.
“Useful?” I repeated the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "You think you can throw in some fresh meat with some ‘record-breaking compatibility’ and everything will be just fine? You don't get it, do you?"
His smirk widened. "I'm simply saying that this individual is a rare specimen. If given proper support—"
I cut him off, stepping forward so my shadow loomed over him. He reeked of arrogance, but that didn’t mask the slight tremor in his hands when I closed the distance.
“You can put a golden saddle on a donkey and it will still be a donkey. What we train, what we acquire, what we want isn’t the body. It is the mind.”
I smacked where my second heart sat on my chest loud enough to turn heads.
“This? This is just a tool.”
I pointed to my head.
“My mind is the real weapon. We fight a war out there. Have you ever been on a battlefield? It is no place for a spoiled brat.”
The suit-wearing man’s smug expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough. I could see behind his mask of confidence and arrogance — the fear. He didn’t belong in this world of blood, sweat, and war. The boardrooms and polished floors of corporate offices were where he thrived. Not here. Not with me. And certainly not with my men.
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.
“He, he…”
He trailed off as some snobbish bastard entered my vision like he owned the place.
“Hey! You took a lot of time so I figured I should check out!”
I turned to face the newcomer, a younger man than the suit-wearing lackey, but just as polished and insufferable. He wore a custom-fitted jacket, perfectly coiffed hair, and an air of self-entitlement that made me want to punch him square in the jaw.
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He strode toward us like this place was a playground, flashing a smile like we should all be thrilled he even bothered to show up. I could tell from the way he moved that he had never been knocked the fuck out.
“Ah,” the suit said with a new wave of oily enthusiasm. “This is William. William Trueman. He is-“
“I can introduce myself.”
He stepped forward and offered his hand to shake. I didn’t take it. I inspected him from head to toe and noticed his bulky frame. It wasn’t on level as full-blown super soldier level but he was way more muscular than an average person. He also had solid balance.
“I am a big fan. I heard that you killed two Hornets in close combats before becoming a super soldier?”
There was a gleam in his eyes, a glint of challenge as if he thought he could prove himself here, among us, like he was some kind of savior ready to revolutionize the way we fought. His words hung in the air like a desperate plea for validation, but I could see past the façade.
"Yeah," I said flatly, my voice void of the enthusiasm he probably expected. "Two Hornets. Close combat."
He threw his jacket to the side and took a fighting stance, all while ignoring the suit-wearing man’s plea.
“You probably think that I am an arrogant asshole. I really am not. You are only arrogant if you can’t measure up to it.”
He threw a punch straight into my face. Guts on this motherfucker. To his credit, he was fast, real fast. But it was too straightforward. I waved my head to the side as I moved my fist where his body would go. If I really counter-punched him my fist would have gone through his torso.
His own momentum smashed his liver to my fist. To my surprise, he was considerably hard. Experimental modifications, huh?
I watched his smile turn into an agonized furrow as he fell to one knee.
“Timing beats speed and precision beats strength. If you were in real combat against Horde you were dead. If you were a soldier under my command you were beaten to half-dead for your disrespect.”
I felt both of my hearts beat faster.
"You don’t just become one of us, boy. You earn it." I glanced at the others still training. They were the best of the best, selected from the most elite, and broken so many times until they became unbreakable.
“Surgeries and mods,” I repeated, stepping closer. I towered over him, close enough that I could see the faint sweat beading along his hairline. “That’s all it takes, huh? Let me ask you something, William.” I spat his name like venom. “Have you ever seen a guy you just ate and laughed together torn in half by a creature ten times your size? Have you ever felt their blood splash on your face, the warmth turning cold in seconds as you’re trying to stop your own guts from spilling out?"
His face went pale, but he stayed quiet. The arrogance was still there, buried deep behind his eyes, but he wasn’t dumb enough to respond.
“You think you can just stroll in here, throw some cash around, and get handed a gun? You don’t know shit about what it means to be us.” I stepped back. “You’re nothing but a pampered brat with fancy toys. And out there,” I gestured toward the battlefield beyond the training grounds, “your toys won’t save you.”
He didn’t flinch, to his credit. He silently got up and to my annoyance, his smirk was back. His pride was wounded, but his eyes now carried something else. Hunger. Not for power, but for understanding. He was eager, desperate even, to prove himself. And that… that could be dangerous.
“I can handle whatever you throw at me,” he said, his voice no quieter than before despite the injury he sustained to his pride. I locked eyes with him, considering the challenge.
“Very well then.”
1 curse is equal to 10 advices. Let’s see if he can keep his smirk after a day with us. “Fine,” I said, my voice low and commanding. “You want to prove yourself? You’ll go through exactly what the rest of these maggots go through. No special treatment, no shortcuts. If you survive, then maybe — just maybe — you’ll earn my respect.”
He straightened up at that, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Deal.”
I motioned to one of the nearby instructors. “Get him started. Full regimen. If he’s still standing by the end of the day, we’ll talk.”
The instructor nodded, a grim smile on his face. He knew what was coming. William didn’t. Yet.