In order to strictly enforce military discipline and establish the image of the chief instructor as someone whose word is law, Henry Brooks's misfortune this time was reported to the entire battalion, and his name was prominently displayed on the battalion's bulletin board for a full half day. Everyone in the battalion knew that Henry Brooks from the third squad was now being personally identified by the chief instructor and escorted to the execution ground. Aside from feeling sorry for this unlucky guy, no one had any other thoughts—they could only wish him good luck. And Henry Brooks's record of punishments had increased by one more.

Ever since the last confinement, everyone in the military discipline office had become cautious, and no one had visited since then. Henry Brooks was the first person to be brought over by the chief instructor. These guys, in high spirits, manhandled Henry Brooks like a piece of cargo and tossed him into the confinement area.

As soon as the door closed, a group of men wearing high-ranking insignia immediately revealed another side of themselves. Someone who looked like a military doctor shouted loudly, "Bookie, bookie, come open the betting! Let's see how long this guy can last!"

The one called the bookie quickly pulled up an interface in the internal system, and everyone began entering their bets on their terminals using their internal ID numbers. Even the chief instructor was no exception, placing a bet on twelve hours. There was nothing else for these guys in the discipline office to do during the months of advanced training—after the initial show of force, there was almost nothing to keep them busy, so they were always finding ways to amuse themselves within their own department.

He felt as if he was floating, weightless—Henry Brooks knew this was zero gravity. He couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. Why did this feel so familiar, as if he'd experienced it before?

Yes, the last time he was imprisoned, it felt just like this. He'd counted billions of numbers and only heard two sounds in total. What was there to be afraid of in this feeling? This time, Henry Brooks firmly supported the chief instructor's viewpoint. That retired guy must have cheated on the psychological test to get in.

Familiar scene—so, let's recite something familiar. Henry Brooks began to recite that tongue-twisting passage. But since he couldn't hear anything, he decided to just read it silently.

Once, twice, three times—ah, this feels great, he hadn't been this relaxed in a long time. Keep going! Strangely, reading these words actually made his body feel comfortable! Well, this feeling is nice, I like it.

The guys in the discipline office started paying attention to Henry Brooks almost as soon as the betting was done. On the external monitoring screen, every move Henry Brooks made was clearly displayed.

"This guy didn't even struggle when he suddenly became weightless. Not bad, I have high hopes for him!"

"Yeah, very calm—pulse normal, breathing normal, blood pressure normal, brainwaves normal, all other indicators normal. Good start, I have high hopes for him too!"

...

"Three hours exactly! You lost! Hmm, pulse 58, blood pressure 80–115, brainwaves normal, other indicators normal. He has potential."

...

"Four hours, you, and you, both lost! Now his pulse is 58, blood pressure 80–115, brainwaves normal, other indicators normal. Impressive, no changes at all."

...

"Six hours—hahaha, you two lost! Not bad, nothing unusual, and he's already broken that Nall guy's record. Keep going, I have high hopes for you!"

...

"Eleven hours—hmm, no one bet on this. Okay, keep going. So sleepy, that guy inside. Huh! He actually fell asleep. And he's drooling, that's disgusting!"

...

"Sixteen hours—medic, medic! Come over, monitor him closely, prepare emergency equipment, get the sedatives ready, and rescue him immediately if anything goes wrong!"

"What's the rush? Can't you see the guy isn't even awake yet? Hmm, his blood sugar is dropping, probably just hungry! Give him a nutrient injection!"

...

"Twenty hours—we all lost! Who is this guy? Look, the rookie was said to be tireless, now his nickname is Camel, he's a tough one. Punished forty-five times during basic training—hmm, reason: lack of focus, daydreaming. Impressive!"

...

"Thirty hours—hmm, he fell asleep for the second time. This kid can actually sleep while floating in zero gravity. He's about as good as that guy back in the day. Your battalion has found a treasure this time! With physical condition like this, he's definitely a prime candidate for a space trooper!"

...

"Forty hours—alright, a new record. Among the rookies, this is the toughest guy I've seen. What's his name? Camel! Good name, I like it!"

...

"Fifty hours—huh, he still hasn't lost consciousness? Indicators are normal, and we've already rotated through two shifts. Sir, this can't go on. If he just stays like this, how are we supposed to train? We can't have so many people just watching over him!"

"Sir, do you think he can go back to training now? No one won anyway, let's just call it. The record's been broken, what do you think? We have to give the next guys some hope—if he sleeps another hundred hours, what are the others supposed to do?"

Chapter Six: Targeted Training (Part 1)

The confinement record was quickly updated. On it, Henry Brooks's name not only broke the record for this batch of recruits, but the overall record of forty hours was also changed to fifty. This was specially suggested by that discipline office officer, seeing that the punishment had absolutely no effect.