The whole place turned silent.
The only sound was the soft screeching of the firewood burning in the center.
Every soldier stiffened, knowing full well that whoever had spoken was doomed—probably stripped of tonight's and tomorrow's meal. They knew it was Sage who said that the one who always brings bad luck and problems.
If only that person had shut their damn mouth.
Diablo raised his hand slowly as the commander's voice rang out.
"Show your face. Step out. Now."
Oh goodness, Diablo thought to himself, Of course Mr. Commander must always act like the center of attention. Bro, it would not kill you if I just stayed there.
He stepped forward, weaving through the soldiers who gave him sharp side glances—some annoyed, others downright disgusted.
Why was this guy even a soldier?
Some said that even his healing power must have been a mistake, a joke of the universe. A trial to see if others would work more like an experiment to test.
Diablo finally made it to the front, facing the large crowd. He bowed slightly.
"Yes, Commander."
The commander's gaze sharpened.
"Could you repeat your statement?"
Diablo nodded.
"Yes, Commander. I had asked…is it a pistol?"
A brief moment of silence.
The commander nodded stiffly.
"Yes, of course. You're getting your pistol. Hearing is critical for soldiers."
Void, who stood nonchalantly at the back, his lips curved up into a smirk as he murmured, "Bro is a pro liar." If lying increased ranking, then no doubt Diablo would be at the top.
Diablo remained still.
"One of the main reasons for your trainings," the commander continued, "is not just to build strength physically—but internally too."
'Goodness,' Diablo thought, 'Here he goes with the motivational speeches again.'
These speeches don't even motivate a person they demotivate instead.'
Many soldiers hissed quietly under their breath.
If this dragged on, thanks to Mr. Failure over here, they would miss their only meal tonight.
The commander finally ended, his voice cutting the air:
"This should be the last time."
"Yes, Commander."
"You're guiding a new soldier. You're supposed to be a better example. Make sure it's the last time."
"Yes, Commander."
With that, the commander barked, "All to the tents. Guns ready!"
The soldiers echoed:
"Yes, Commander!"
As the commander turned and left, movement stirred again.
The soldiers rose, murmuring among themselves.
"This fool almost made us miss dinner."
"Freakin' idiot."
Then the second-in-command spoke up sharply:
"Ten minutes. All out at the riverbank. Move!"
"Yes, sir!" they chorused, hurrying toward the tents.
Void and Diablo walked back to their tent. Diablo grabbed a small pistol and tossed another to Void.
Void shook his head.
"Bro, you've got some serious guts."
Diablo just snorted.
"I got no gut, bro," he muttered, checking his pistol.
"Let's go before we get punished. One thing I don't joke about is food."
Void laughed lightly.
"Seems like food's your weakness."
Diablo glanced at him, a slight smirk on his lips. "You'd be dumb to think that."
Void blinked.
"I see," he muttered under his breath.
They both fell into step, following the others slowly toward the riverbank, guns at their sides.
And as they walked, Diablo couldn't help but wonder:
What exactly was this commander planning? Using food as a training lesson… Who even does that? The next thing he'll say is us sleeping outside as training. Diablo was getting annoyed.
They were using a light, but even with it, nothing made much sense at first. Then the commander spoke, pointing at a large pot in front of them.
"This pot contains the meal," he said, pointing at a particular corner on top of a table where the large pot sat. Beside it, there was a table filled with different stainless steel plates. A plate of food was already placed nearby, its aroma mixing with the heavy air, either to convince the soldiers or motivate them—whatever was in Mr. Commander's head.
The commander continued, speaking more quietly now, "No matter what, it all depends on the matter of fate. You must pray that some fish jump out. Any fish you manage to kill will determine how many scoops of food you can take."
"Yes, Commander," they all echoed, their voices rising together. Some of the soldiers turned toward their left, their lips curving upward—a signal that Sage wouldn't be able to take any food tonight. They knew he couldn't catch a fish. Surprisingly, this brought a wave of relief, happiness, and excitement to many of them, knowing full well that a particular guy they were sure of wouldn't be eating tonight. In fact, what made them excited was the fact that they knew Diablo's love for food was beyond normal. That's why the feeling they felt doubled. Maybe today wouldn't be a bad day after all, huh?
Ten stood in a long line, each holding their guns at the ready, waiting for the elusive fish to surface. If only the poor creature knew it would have to die for them to survive.
They waited in silence, the tension thick in the air. Diablo and Void stood at the back, for it wasn't yet their turn to shoot. They were the last in line. Diablo prayed silently, knowing that if the twenty fish were caught before it was their turn, they'd be left hungry. And one thing he never joked about was his food.
Not to mention, he needed it after that intense hunger exercise he had done.
Then, just as the water bubbled slightly, everyone tensed. They were ready. The stakes were high—only one or two lucky soldiers might get a shot, as it was rare for more than one fish to emerge at a time. They had to be prepared.
BOOM!
Something far larger than expected surfaced from the water. Eyes widened, and the commander's face twisted in shock as a large unknown creature with big eyes stepped out. It hissed. It looked like a large fish, but the problem was it had legs. This was a problem. Everyone froze, their guns aimed, ready for whatever came next.
It was just too unexpected, even for the commander himself, as he had not anticipated this at all—not to mention the fact that they were waiting for fish to shoot. But it seems like they would need the higher ranks for support, those blessed with powers, while the lower ranks stayed at the back by supporting either by lending healing powers to keep the higher ranks who were injured stronger. This was totally unexpected.
There was a big problem. They were trained for anything.
One of the soldiers spoke, his voice shaky. "Nobody mo—" His words died as he saw Diablo running toward the pot. What the hell was wrong with this man?
To their surprise, Diablo dashed toward it, grabbed it, and fled into the bushes.
"Food first," he muttered.