198: Chapter 198 Returning to the Team

On the second day, Zhang Lei woke up at five in the morning.

It wasn't the alarm clock that woke him; he woke up on his own.

Having served as a scout for eight years, his biological clock had long been engraved into his bones. No matter how many years had passed since his discharge, he could open his eyes right on time; this was the instinct of a king of soldiers.

He lay on the hard wooden bed in the construction site dormitory, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.

His mind was still replaying the phone call he made to his boss yesterday.

He had originally prepared himself to wrangle with the boss—the construction site was rushing to meet a deadline, and quitting and leaving at this time would be hard for anyone to bring up.

Before making the call, he had gone over his wording three times in his heart, even thinking of how to reply to every sentence the boss might throw back.

As a result, not a single one was needed.

When he said he wanted to resign, although the boss disagreed and said, "Zhang Lei, you can't leave; the construction site you manage has had zero accidents for several consecutive years, and your record is the only one like it in the entire company."

Zhang Lei didn't explain; he just said one sentence—it's a matter concerning the military.

The other end of the phone fell silent for two seconds.

"Military conscription?"

"Hmm."

Upon hearing Zhang Lei's affirmative reply, the boss didn't try to persuade him any further.

Of all things in the world, the country's affairs are paramount.

Anyone running a company understands this principle better than anyone else.

Zhang Lei's salary was settled that very day, and the boss added one more thing: "Your job is reserved for you; whenever you come back, you can start working."

Zhang Lei hadn't expected it to go so smoothly.

He had originally prepared a bellyful of words, but in the end, he only said a "Thank you".

He washed his face, changed into a clean set of clothes, and went out at five-thirty.

The Veterans Affairs Bureau was not far from the construction site, a twenty-minute walk.

When he arrived, he thought he was early enough, but as soon as he turned the corner, he was stunned.

A long queue had already formed at the entrance.

There were at least forty or fifty people, lining up far down the sidewalk.

However, a few people stood out exceptionally.

Among them was a man in his forties with four military merit medals hanging on his chest, reflecting a cold, bright light in the morning sun.

Someone immediately came closer.

"Brother, what class of merit is yours?"

"One Class-2 merit, three Class-3 merits."

"Awesome... Where did you serve as a soldier?"

"Nanzang."

Just those two words, and the surroundings instantly fell silent.

Someone asked in a low voice: "From the year 2020?"

The man nodded.

There was no need to say more. Nanzang, 2020—the river valley, minus thirty degrees, sticks and stones against steel pipes.

No one present pursued the details further.

What happened that year, anyone who had served in the military knew.

After a moment of silence, someone took out a cigarette wanting to light it, but remembering this was at the entrance of the Veterans Affairs Bureau, sheepishly stuffed it back.

Instead, a young man in the back muttered: "I wonder what the mission is this time. If there's a chance to render a merit, when I go back, I'll have to start a separate page in the family genealogy."

A young man nearby with a southern accent chimed in: "On the wall of our village ancestral hall, there is a special place carved with the names of those who enlisted and rendered meritorious service. My second grandfather's name is on it, but mine isn't up there yet."

"Then you better perform well this time."

"Definitely."

The queue was moving forward slowly.

Zhang Lei didn't chime in, lining up quietly.

At half-past six, Zhao Long arrived.

He was one of the last to arrive. Stepping through the doors, he swept his gaze across the room and raised an eyebrow: "Whoa, this momentum doesn't look like building roads and bridges; could it be dealing with the Japanese? Looks like I didn't come in vain."

No one replied to him, but quite a few people chuckled.

As pure-red, deeply-rooted people of Daxia, who wouldn't want to go and deal with the Japanese?

At nine sharp, the staff members of the Veterans Affairs Bureau came out and began verifying identities.

The process was fast—name, ID card, discharge certificate. Once verified, they boarded the bus.

The bus was parked in the back courtyard, its curtains tightly drawn. Two people in plain clothes stood at the bus door, but their waists were bulging; anyone with a discerning eye could tell they were carrying weapons.

Before getting on the bus, mobile phones were uniformly collected and put into numbered sealed bags.

When Zhang Lei handed over his phone, the young man in charge of collecting phones took an extra glance at him.

"Rest assured, it will be returned to you after the mission ends."

Zhang Lei nodded and didn't speak.

After getting on the bus, the carriage was very quiet.

The curtains were drawn shut, making it impossible to see outside. The air conditioning was on full blast, and the cold air blowing from the vents carried a plastic smell.

Zhang Lei sat by the window and closed his eyes.

His fingers tapped unconsciously on his knees—once, twice, three times.

An old habit of a scout.

Silently counting time, feeling the direction and frequency of the turns, and roughly sketching a route of travel in his mind.

Turn left, go straight, turn right, go uphill...

More than two hours later, the bus stopped.

The moment the bus door opened, Zhang Lei smelled a familiar scent—the exhaust of a diesel engine mixed with the earthy stench, as well as the scent of food wafting from the cafeteria in the distance.

The smell of the military camp.

He opened his eyes and saw two sentries standing guard with rifles at the entrance, wearing steel helmets, body armor, and carrying Type 95 rifles.

Everyone on the bus simultaneously straightened their posture.

After getting off the bus, they were led into a large conference room.

Long tables were arranged in dozens of rows, with folders neatly placed on the tables—one copy per person.

The folders were dark blue, with no markings on them whatsoever.

A colonel walked up to the podium. He was not tall, in his early forties, with no medals on his military uniform, but his Aura was able to suppress the entire audience.

"Sit."

Everyone sat down.

The colonel scanned the crowd below the stage, his voice not loud, but every word was very clear—

"The information you are about to understand belongs to the state's highest secret. Before officially starting, you need to sign the confidentiality agreement in front of you."

He paused.

"I want to tell you a few things in advance. First, this mission is life-threatening. Second, the mission cycle is uncertain; it could be a few months or even longer. Third, from the moment you sign, everything you see and hear today must not be disclosed to anyone for the rest of your life until it is declassified."

The conference room was very quiet, and even the hum of the air conditioner could be heard clearly.

"Before signing, if anyone wants to leave, you can leave now. It will not affect any of your treatments or evaluations."

The colonel looked at the audience below and waited for ten seconds.

No one moved.

That Nanzang veteran wearing four military merit medals already had the pen in his hand, ready to sign his big name on the confidentiality agreement.

The colonel seemed to have anticipated this result long ago, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"No one has any objections, then sign."

The sound of opening folders rustled across the room.

Pen tips glided across the paper, rustling softly as dozens of people wrote their names at the very same second.

For these people, "If there is a war, when summoned, we shall return" was never just a slogan shouted when being discharged.

After signing, the lights went out.

The big screen right in front lit up.

Blue-and-white light hit everyone's faces, and a gasp of cold air resounded in the conference room.