"What's wrong, didn't you ever write essays as a kid, never fantasized about growing up to be a soldier, carrying a gun, defending your country, protecting peace, and sacrificing yourself as a hero?"

James Lane sat on the ground, coughing from time to time but still smoking, smiling as he called out to the obviously still frightened and struggling young man in front of him.

He seemed to have already started treating Henry Clark as one of his own soldiers.

"Ah... I did think about it, and I wrote about it too. But I was young and naive back then. When I grew up, I realized I wasn't cut out for that at all," Henry Clark said earnestly.

Unconsciously, and futilely resisting, he made several people present chuckle kindly.

"I'm actually preparing for the college entrance exam next year. I want to be a scientist—I think that's also a big contribution to the country and the world. Um, my grades are really good," Henry Clark continued to struggle, even resorting to blatant lies.

This was based on the fact that he had basically figured out James Lane's temperament by now and knew this wouldn't put him in danger.

"You want to go to college? That's great," James Lane nodded with a teasing expression. "Then you've come to the right place. I used to be a university professor. I'll teach you."

Henry Clark was stunned. He was still wondering if a future college student, a scientist, might have even a 0.1% chance of making the other party change his mind, or give him another, better option.

But it turned out, the man who just hacked through sheet metal with a knife claimed he used to be a university professor.

"What, you don't believe me? I taught physics," James Lane gestured to the people present and said, "There are some of my former students right in front of you... There are several college students here."

"..." Henry Clark believed him.

Even though the James Lane in front of him clearly had the face of a battle-hardened, old-school soldier, full of hardship and the smell of gunpowder, he still believed it naturally.

"Almost ten years now." At this moment, James Lane seemed a bit sentimental himself. He pointed at himself, then looked up at the night sky and spoke.

Henry Clark: "So you just... disappeared? What did people think?"

James Lane: "Not suddenly. Others... all thought I resigned and went abroad."

Henry Clark hesitated, "You..."

"Voluntarily." As if he already knew what he wanted to ask, James Lane answered proactively, "The vast majority of people here are volunteers."

He raised his hand and pointed at the nearly cleaned-up remains of the "alien robot," then continued to explain, "These things aren't often seen. They usually don't show up directly where people live or are active. Normally, we have ways to cover it up. This time was an accident... You just had bad luck."

Bad luck—this final summary sounded a bit perfunctory, considering it concerned a major twist of fate. But then again, thinking about it, isn't that how life often is?

There was no time to ponder what kind of process "volunteering" really involved, nor to feel resentful. Henry Clark continued to ask, "So what exactly are they?"

James Lane's gaze suddenly turned sharp. "You'll find out once you join the unit."

Henry Clark: "Oh, okay."

A squad member walked over and said to James Lane, "The Lane Team, the site has been cleared."

By this time, it had been less than forty minutes since that spindle-shaped craft landed.

"Alright, tell everyone on guard outside to come back. Get ready to move out." James Lane stood up, gave the order, then turned to look at Henry Clark again.

Henry Clark was lost in thought, turning his head away from James Lane, thinking, "People on guard outside. So, if I really had tried to strangle him just now and then tried to escape... no matter what, I wouldn't have gotten away, and the result..." Thinking this, he felt a bit relieved.

James Lane finished getting ready to leave, stood there and said, "Do you have any other questions?"

Henry Clark turned to look at him and asked, "I... can I go home first?"

"Of course. You're a smart kid, and clear-headed, calm. Otherwise, I wouldn't have chosen you." To Henry Clark's surprise, James Lane's answer was almost without hesitation.

Then he continued:

"Tomorrow... no, better make it the day after tomorrow. At noon the day after tomorrow, people from the relevant department here will come to your house to deliver the notice, and I'll come to pick you up. By the way, they don't know the details, they'll just think you have some connections up top, so remember not to let anything slip.

"Special recruitment for the army, all the procedures and paperwork are in order. As long as you don't say anything, no one will think anything's wrong.

"Remember, you can't tell anyone. If even a hint gets out, not only will you die... think about your family, don't get them in trouble.

"And don't get any funny ideas. Think carefully—do you really think you could get away?"

James Lane finished speaking, his gaze sharp as he looked at Henry Clark.

Henry Clark nodded.

By now, he had completely given up even the last bit of struggle in his heart. The other party was not only terrifyingly powerful, but could also, with a wave of the hand, have him conscripted through normal channels... What that meant, as a rural kid, a high school student, Henry Clark couldn't fully grasp, but he knew enough to be afraid.

After asking Henry Clark for his name, address, and basic information, the squad got ready to set out, heading toward the forest.

"Let's go, you can go home now." James Lane walked a bit, then turned back to see Henry Clark still standing there, and called out.