85: Chapter 85 Sharp Sword Base, Falcon Reconnaissance Platoon!

Early the next morning.

A transfer order, like a thunderclap, exploded across the entire military training camp.

"Notice: Following a decision by the Military Region command, student Qin Feng, having demonstrated exceptional performance, outstanding military talent, and strategic potential during training, is hereby exceptionally recruited. He is to be transferred from this camp immediately and dispatched to the northern front lines for a special mission."

The news was broadcast to every corner of the camp.

On the training grounds, tens of thousands of students were all stunned, every single one of them.

"Holy crap! Did I hear that right? Qin Feng... went to the front lines?"

"Is it real? Isn't he a freshman just like us? How did he end up on the battlefield?"

"Executing a special mission? That sounds so badass! What exactly is this guy's background?"

"He definitely pulled strings! His dad must be a big shot in the Military Region! Otherwise, it wouldn't have happened so fast!"

Envy, jealousy, speculation, discussion... all sorts of emotions fermented among the crowd.

At this moment, the name Qin Feng became an absolute legend in the military training camp.

Below the dormitory building.

Zhao Hu, Li Lang, and Liu Wei looked up, listening to the emotionless announcement on the broadcast, collectively turned to stone.

"Brother... Brother Feng... left?"

Li Lang stammered, his face filled with disbelief.

Zhao Hu slapped his own forehead, making a dull thud.

He didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

Happy, because the Brother Feng he followed was truly not a creature of the pond; once he encountered the wind and clouds, he would transform into a dragon!

Sad, because this dragon flew off too quickly; he hadn't even had the chance to cling to his leg, and the man had already ascended to the heavens.

"I knew it... I knew Brother Feng wasn't an ordinary person."

Zhao Hu muttered to himself, his eyes filled with a sense of reflected pride.

Only Liu Wei was still happily eating chocolate, thinking it would be good to send some over to Brother Feng.

Meanwhile.

Shen Youchu felt as if she had been struck by lightning.

She had just finished the five hundred push-ups Qin Feng had assigned her, her entire body soaked in sweat, and was preparing to run that non-negotiable ten kilometers.

The voice on the broadcast was like an invisible steel needle, piercing fiercely into her heart.

"He... left?"

"Went to the front lines?"

"How could this be..."

"How could he leave?"

"If he leaves, who will torment me?"

"If he leaves, who will I show my daily training to?"

"If he leaves, I haven't even had the chance to win him back yet!"

An unprecedented panic, like a cold tide, instantly engulfed her.

She felt her faith collapse at that moment.

The man she thought "deeply loved" her had just disappeared from her life, without any warning.

Shen Youchu subconsciously reached into her pocket and tightly clutched that tissue, which she had washed clean and smoothed out, treating it like a precious treasure.

It seemed to still retain the warmth of his fingertips.

"No!"

"He didn't disappear!"

"He is waiting for me!"

"He went to the front lines to achieve glory, to become a towering hero, so that in the future, he can return in glory to marry me!"

"The training tasks he assigned me were just to ensure I stay in the best condition, waiting for his return!"

"Right! That must be it!"

After a brief moment of panic, Shen Youchu's eyes became firm again, even fanatical... or perhaps even superstitious!

She turned abruptly and rushed toward the playground.

"Run!"

"Run with all your might!"

"Qin Feng, you wait for me!"

"I won't let you down!"

"I will be here, waiting for you to come back!"

"I will become the only woman in this world worthy of you!"

A military transport plane roared, piercing through the clouds, heading north.

Inside the cabin, the roar was deafening.

Qin Feng carried his marching pack on his back, while his arms were tightly clutching that large black pot.

He leaned against the cold cabin wall, feeling every bump of the plane, his mood complicated to the extreme.

In the end, he was still going to the front lines.

Even if it was in the way he least desired.

Oh well.

Since I am here, I will make the best of it.

Even if it's in the kitchen, I will be the most badass soldier in the kitchen!

I don't know how much time passed.

The plane began to descend.

The moment the cabin door slowly opened, a cold, grim air rushed in.

The sky here was lower than in the south, and the clouds were thicker.

The air was filled with a unique scent of pine, gunpowder, and steel mixed together.

In the distance, one could faintly hear the dull, thunder-like sound of artillery fire, one blast after another, pounding against one's heart.

Overhead, camouflaged fighter jets would occasionally swoop past at low altitude with sharp, whistling sounds.

On the ground was an endless expanse of military camps.

Trucks, armored vehicles, and tanks moved in an endless stream.

Soldiers wore heavy equipment, hurrying about, each of their faces bearing a certain tenacity forged by the fires of war.

This was the real battlefield.

This was the northern border of the Dragon Kingdom, a large military base codenamed "Sharp Sword Base."

This was the front line!

"New guy?"

A voice rang out in his ear.

Qin Feng turned his head and saw a second-class sergeant with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, tilting his head to look him over.

"Report! Qin Feng! Reporting for duty!" Qin Feng instinctively stood at attention.

The sergeant blew a smoke ring, pointed at the large black pot in his arms, and chuckled.

"A Cook?"

"Yes!" Qin Feng replied through gritted teeth.

"One of Brother Long's men?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, come with me."

The sergeant stubbed out his cigarette and lazily led the way.

"You've got guts, kid, daring to come to this place."

Qin Feng followed behind him, walking while vigilantly observing his surroundings.

Everywhere there were bunkers, anti-aircraft guns, and armed sentries.

The faint scent of blood in the air made the fighting spirit within him start to stir uncontrollably.

Passing through a busy camp area, the sergeant led him to a relatively secluded area covered with camouflage netting and pine branches.

This seemed to be the station of some independent unit.

"We're here."

The sergeant pointed ahead to an adobe hut half-buried in the ground, with only a roof and a broken wooden door visible.

"This is the station of your Falcon Reconnaissance Platoon, and also... a five-star luxury kitchen."

There was a hint of mockery on the sergeant's face.

"Your battlefield, Chef."

After saying this, he waved his hand and turned to leave, as if staying for even one more second would be bad luck.

Qin Feng stood on the spot, looking at this "kitchen" that was more of a dugout than a house, his mouth twitching violently.

He took a deep breath, clutched his "hero pot," and walked over, step by step.

He pushed open the creaking wooden door.

A damp, musty scent, mixed with a hint of gunpowder, rushed to meet him.

Inside, the light was dim, and the space was cramped.

Apart from a simple stove built of stone and mud, and a few tattered boxes, there was nothing.

"This is my battlefield?"

Qin Feng's heart sank to the bottom.

Just then.

An indifferent, yet slightly playful voice came from the shadows of the dugout.

"The new Chef?"

"You're pretty quick."

"Just in time, the Platoon Leader and the others just brought back some prisoners, and they haven't eaten yet."

"Go on, show us what you can do."