“Judging from the details, Richard Grant is rather bold; he is one of the few children on the bus who didn’t cry. Richard Grant’s father is the deputy commander of the Southeast A Group Army, and there have been many Wing Chun masters in his family. This child started practicing Wing Chun at the age of three, and at six, he won the national children’s martial arts championship—a very promising talent.” The female officer named Linda Drake suddenly frowned, enlarged a frame on the big screen, and said, “Benjamin Lee, look at what Baby Duke is doing. Switch the audio.”

“Okay.”

The male officer responded and switched the audio, while also maximizing the image.

On the computer screen, a dozen or so children sat on the ground in a semicircle, looking up and listening to Baby Duke, who stood in the middle with hands on hips, giving a speech.

“Special Class A troops are special forces, and special forces need code names, so you all need to come up with a code name for yourselves.” Baby Duke shook her head, patted her little head with her small hand, and said, “I’ve already thought of my code name. It’s Miss Cat. Now it’s your turn.”

“I want to be called Hurricane.” Paul Ray eagerly raised his hand to choose his code name.

The other children were not to be outdone and quickly chose their own code names. The code names they picked were all over the place—one called himself Optimus Prime, another said “I’m a Calabash Kid,” and one child, perhaps influenced by too many TV commercials, chose the code name “Whisper”...

“Hahahaha...”

Linda Drake and Benjamin Lee burst out laughing, finding these innocent children absolutely adorable.

But what Baby Duke did next made both of them stop laughing at the same time, their eyes filled with shock.

Baby Duke stepped on a military knife with one foot, holding someone else’s military knife in her hand and swinging it, slowly sweeping her gaze over the children sitting on the ground.

Her eyes were full of arrogance, even exuding a sense of oppressive authority from above, making it hard to imagine that this was a natural expression from a seven-year-old girl.

“This meeting is over. Now you all have code names, and having a code name means you’re soldiers. I hereby announce the official establishment of the Cat Corps, named after my code name. From today on, you all have to follow my orders. If anyone disobeys, I’ll beat them up and kick them out.” Baby Duke raised the military knife in her hand and said in a childish voice, “Follow me, Miss Cat, and I guarantee you won’t get bullied. Anyone who bullies you is bullying me, and bullying the Cat Corps. If someone bullies us, what should we do?”

“Beat them up!”

“Beat them hard, beat them into Pigsy!”

“...”

The children all chimed in, shouting about beating up bullies.

“Wrong!” Baby Duke’s little face turned stern, and she threw the military knife on the ground with a loud voice: “Only the Cat Corps bullies others, because the commander of the Cat Corps is Miss Cat Baby Duke!”

So domineering—this spoiled little girl Baby Duke actually showed an incredibly confident and commanding side at this moment. Even she herself didn’t realize that by imitating the adults and holding this not-quite-a-meeting, she had already established her leadership position.

Using a group to create cohesion—this is a true leader, someone born with leadership qualities!

Linda Drake was stunned for a while, then gently exhaled and said, “Leadership!”

“Leader!” Benjamin Lee sighed, feeling inferior by comparison.

This trip to the rainforest wasn’t meant to test their willpower, but to let them self-organize, lay the foundation for a team, and select those with leadership potential.

Without a doubt, Baby Duke was better than anyone else. No, she was beyond excellent—she was a born leader! Everything she did was out of interest: holding meetings was for fun; making people pick code names was for fun; founding the Cat Corps was also for fun. But it was precisely this sense of fun that gave every child a sense of belonging, a belonging centered around her.

If this was done deliberately, it would be nothing special—just strategy. But a seven-year-old girl simply doesn’t have that kind of scheming.

Everything she created came about naturally and effortlessly. Such a person can, at any place and any time, use her words and actions to gather people around her. Because her leadership is instinctive—unadorned, spontaneous instinct!

“And domineering, too.” Linda Drake smiled wryly.

On the screen, Baby Duke pointed in a very official manner at Edward Baldwin, who was standing alone in the distance, and said, “First order of the Cat Corps: No one is allowed to play with Edward Baldwin, or you’ll get beaten up and kicked out.”

Earlier, it was just talk, and maybe some wouldn’t follow it. But now, it was an order issued by a collective organization centered on her, guiding everyone’s thinking from the inside.

Edward Baldwin, who was being isolated, stood motionless. He could only stand far on the outer edge, looking enviously at the Cat Corps in front of him.

At that moment, an adorable little tiger suddenly darted out from somewhere, running between Edward Baldwin and Baby Duke.

“Huh? A kitty!” Baby Duke exclaimed in delight and dashed after it.

“Baby Duke, don’t chase it!” Edward Baldwin shouted loudly, running after her.

In an instant, the two children ran into the dense forest to the south and disappeared without a trace.

“Oh no, there’s no one of ours over there.” Benjamin Lee exclaimed, and immediately spoke into the radio: “C3, C4, bring those two children back right away.”