The university games in the college town had concluded, and the rebellion in the capital of Wei Jing had also ended. The true state of chaos had unfolded, with only a few people witnessing the rebellious soldiers entering the capital. Afterwards, the public could only hear the sounds of gunfire in front of the Parliament. Unfortunately, those streets were all sealed off by the military, so the general populace couldn't see what had actually occurred.
Regardless of what had transpired in the capital of Wei Jing, it was irrelevant to these students at this moment. Their only task was to study diligently. At this time, in the classroom of Class 4 of the 15th cohort of the mecha department, a lesson on the application of mechas was being taught. Meanwhile, Barrett Walk, who had shed the spotlight from the university games, still sat in the back of the classroom like an ordinary student, bored and dozing off at his desk.
Once upon a time, he had fulfilled his promise, winning championships in whatever event he participated in. Later on, he had almost swept all the awards in the land-based events, and people were starting to fear him. Then he went to play in the water, and even the swimming coach and the swim team had a grudge against Barrett. Despite the vulgar language and insults hurled at him, Barrett had not said a word. Instead, he had proven his greatness through his actions, achieving unprecedented results. He had humiliated the swimming prince, Matti Janros, to the point of shame. Since that day, almost everyone had seen him for what he was: a cannon, ready to blast anyone who opposed him. So, it was best not to provoke him!
The instructor in the classroom looked at the sleeping student. In the War God Academy, this was originally a heinous act of wastefulness. However, seeing that the student was Barrett Walk, the instructor lost all interest in waking him up, afraid of disturbing his slumber. It was good enough that he was here; he was even giving the instructor face. Thinking of how a colleague had once tried to humiliate Barrett in terms of mecha knowledge, only to be easily bested by Barrett's sharp retorts, and even had the professor running away in tears, amazed the instructor. Even more surprising was that after the teacher left, Barrett Walk had taken over and taught the entire class, making it even more engaging than the instructor. The instructor, lacking knowledge in mechas, pondered whether he should seek Barrett's guidance after class.
"The War God truly lives up to his name! He can handle any situation effortlessly. There were rumors that the War God was commanding a legion, and it got completely wiped out. This is entirely slander! He is still the War God I admire the most."
"Yes! He can easily solve such a big problem, and he can even act against his own family's interests. He must be really suffering. How could he have a son like that, who didn't go to defend against the aliens and brought back a whole army? What a mess! If it weren't for the War God pleading for him, I would have wanted to publicly vilify him on the internet and have the court give him the death penalty!"
"The War God is really suffering! To have a son like that. Doesn't he have two grandsons? One of them is named Jaden Walk, who is quite promising. He's only around 15 years old, and I hear he's one of the top ten outstanding youths!"
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"Isn't there another grandson? What's his name?"
"I don't know. It seems like his name is Barrett Walk. Wasn't there a fugitive? I have inside information that it's Barrett Walk. Do you think it's the one in our class?"
"It probably isn't! If he's a fugitive, with the War God's sense of justice, he wouldn't tolerate his presence. And look at the smug look on the face of the student in our class; it's completely different from the appearance of that fugitive. It's probably just a coincidence of the same name and surname!"
Listening to the people nearby discuss as they looked at their phones, Barrett Walk lost his interest in sleeping. He didn't know what had happened with the rebellion, but he was certain that the recent upheaval had not been favorable for the War God. Now that the situation had changed, and Morton Walk was left in such a state, despite Barrett's dislike for him, he knew just how shameless those members of the executive council were. He didn't know if Morton had been burned alive or shot by the soldiers, but either way, Barrett felt quite content about the whole thing. This was perhaps the first thing that Morton had done that Barrett could tolerate. So, hearing these people discuss Morton Walk in a negative light made Barrett feel quite unhappy.
Barrett Walker's first sight upon opening his eyes was a remarkably familiar figure by the window. Barrett Walker was shocked to see him here; shouldn't he be at home? The lecturer was enjoying himself, but in the blink of an eye, he noticed Barrett Walker's empty seat. He had no idea where he had disappeared to, and felt a pang of concern, but then quickly felt relieved. Perhaps he had been scared off by his own boredom! It was probably for the best that he had left, as having such a deity-like figure looming over him made him teach with extreme caution, fearing that he might say something incorrect and be ridiculed by him.
Barrett Walker looked at a man sitting with his back to him at a stone table under a fake mountain in the corner of the school. In his mind, the man's posture had always been upright, like a javelin, never bent or stooped. Although he knew that soldiers should be this way, every time he saw him so meticulous, he felt very uncomfortable, even disgusted. But today, seeing his back bent, Barrett Walker's heart softened, and he realized that his breathing was becoming heavy and difficult. He felt like he was about to suffocate as he softly asked, "Why have you come to see me?" His tone was no longer confrontational and piercing.
He turned around, and the white hair that would never have appeared on his head before was now noticeable, looking like dozens of silver threads. His elegant and gentle image was no more; now he seemed like an old man, breathing heavily. "You've come. You look a lot like your mother," Morton Walker said.
In Barrett Walker's memory, his mother was far from being a stunning beauty, so hearing Morton Walker say this made Barrett Walker's breath quicken as he said, "Why do you mention my mother? You're not worthy!"
"Sit down. I want to have a good talk with you, or else we'll never have the chance again," Morton Walker appeared somewhat forlorn, sitting there like a loving father looking at his beloved son, but the love in his eyes was irreplaceable. At that moment, he truly loved him.
Barrett Walker sat down as requested, looking calmly at the man in front of him. In his mind, he had never been asked to do so, and had never defended himself. He was who he was, the most powerful five-star general in the federal government, the object of adolescent infatuation. Now he was wearing a gray suit, meticulously pressed but lacking the former aura of a wise man among the iron-blooded soldiers, the legendary gentleman general.