Shaking his head, Instructor Hack wondered why he was thinking so much about someone who often made mistakes during training. Shaking off the thoughts that had suddenly popped into his mind, Instructor Hack strode after those guys who were staggering along with boxes in their arms.

This advanced training was mainly to help the recruits get used to the combat training suits, individual armor, and the use of simple weapons. So, unless during confinement, they were only allowed to take off their training suits then; at all other training times, they had to be fully geared up.

With thirty kilograms of training suit and backpack, plus an average of twenty-five kilograms of standard supply boxes to carry, and walking in an environment adjusted to 1.2 times gravity, the recruits were all complaining bitterly. Only Henry Brooks seemed like someone without any burden, carrying two boxes and still walking steadily. As he passed by his comrades, he even managed to balance a tilting box for someone struggling, using one foot to support himself and the other to help.

Back at the training site, everyone started panting heavily. Instructor Hack also let everyone rest at the right time.

Brian Carter was unlucky—his wailing was overheard by Instructor Hack, and now he was enjoying some time in the confinement room. The only one quite familiar with Henry Brooks was Johnson, a tall white guy who, despite his size, didn’t have Henry Brooks’s freakish stamina. He came over and plopped down next to him, the bits and pieces on his training suit clanging. Looking at Henry Brooks’s nonchalant expression, Johnson teased loudly, “Henry Brooks, you’re a terrifying guy, you could totally compete with the legendary camel.”

Camels are essential livestock for desert life on Earth, famous for their ability to adapt to desert conditions. Their greatest trait is being able to go without food or water under necessary conditions and carry extremely heavy loads. Henry Brooks had memories of camels, it seemed his past lives had really been colorful.

Of course, Johnson called him a camel purely because of his monstrous stamina. As soon as he said this, voices of agreement rose up all around, one after another. For a while, everyone was calling out “camel, camel.” From that moment on, except in formal situations, most of the time his comrades called Henry Brooks “camel.”

After the break, spurred on by the first batch of volunteers who stepped up, everyone energetically received from Instructor Hack the Type-2 crossbow assault rifle and a full set of maintenance tools, which from now on had to be carried at all times during this phase of training. At Instructor Hack’s command, they began swapping out the models in their backpacks.

Fortunately, the models were set to be the same size and weight as the real thing, so after the swap, the backpacks didn’t feel any different. Still, no matter what, now that they were holding the real deal, marching in formation and performing tactical maneuvers felt completely different. The recruits, excited to finally have their own real weapons, trained with much more enthusiasm.

Training, eating, resting, then more training—anyway, the recruits were never short of activities arranged by Instructor Hack.

Strange, it’s been six hours already, how come those guys still haven’t come out of the military discipline office? Instructor Hack didn’t seem to mind, calmly guiding the recruits through their drills.

At night, back in the dormitory, taking off the training suit worn all day and enjoying a nice shower—what a relief! Johnson even complained that the army didn’t have the legendary mixed-gender showers—he was just too much.

Brian Carter was already in the dorm, but he didn’t look so good. His face was pale, completely bloodless, and his eyes seemed unfocused.

Henry Brooks and Johnson exchanged a glance and immediately rushed over to their roommate to check on him.

Wasn’t he just confined for six hours? How did he end up like this? They rubbed his back, massaged him, shook him, and even gave him a few hard pats. After their rather rough “treatment,” some color finally returned to Brian Carter’s face, and he regained a bit of clarity.

“Oh my god, that was terrifying. I never want to break military rules again!” That was the first thing Brian Carter said after coming to. Henry Brooks and Johnson exchanged another look, both seeing confusion in each other’s eyes.

Once Brian Carter was fully awake, he haltingly described what happened during his confinement.

Confinement these days was no longer just about throwing someone into a room alone for a while. Brian Carter only realized this when he got to the military discipline office.

Now that it was the space age, the methods of confinement had been greatly enhanced and organically combined with certain types of training. According to the officers at the discipline office, it was to let them get a taste in advance of what it felt like to drift alone in outer space.

In a special zero-gravity training room, each person’s vision and hearing were sealed off, and the automatic temperature regulation function of their military underwear was turned off before they were thrown in.

No gravity, no sense of direction; no vision, just endless, complete darkness; no hearing—well, external sounds were gone, but you could still hear your own voice and heartbeat; the temperature seemed to rise slowly, and in no time you were drenched in sweat. At that point, it seemed the automatic humidity control of the underwear was also gone. The whole body was enveloped in a sense of utter despair.