187: Chapter 186: The Dizzying Wheel, A Purgatory of Willpower

The afternoon sun was as fierce as if it were trying to melt the ground; the concrete of Training Ground No. 3 shimmered with rising heat, and even the wind carried a scorching temperature.

Su Han stood in front of that behemoth in the center of the training ground, his fingertips brushing against its cold metal casing.

This was a Fixed Large Wheel, five meters in diameter, with eight enclosed cockpits evenly distributed around the wheel's body. The cockpit walls were covered with sensors and safety locks.

At this moment, the wheel was stationary, yet it resembled a dormant steel beast, exuding a heart-pounding sense of pressure.

"Do you know the nickname of this thing?" Su Han's voice spread through the heatwaves, carrying a metallic quality.

The seven members of the Womens Special Operations Team stood in a row. Sweat slid down their cheeks from their foreheads, pooling into droplets at the tips of their chins before splashing onto their scorching training uniforms, instantly soaking into small, dark patches.

Lin Yu subconsciously looked at the wheel. The lingering shock from the morning's rapid descent hadn't fully dissipated, and looking at this rust-covered steel monster now, her stomach began to tighten again.

"Reporting, Chief Instructor!" Su Qingcheng took a step forward, her voice crisp. "I heard it's called 'The World Turned Upside Down.' Even the veterans of Falcon are afraid of it."

"Afraid?" Su Han raised an eyebrow and turned to pat the cockpit door. "With me, you don't have the right to be afraid."

He pointed to the dial on the side of the wheel, where numbers from 10 to 60 were evenly distributed. "The minimum rotation speed is 10 revolutions per minute, and the maximum is 60. Your goal is to complete a ten-minute simulation of basic tactical movements at a speed of 30 RPM. If you vomit more than three times or manually press the emergency stop button, you fail."

"Ten minutes?" Zhang Meng gasped, her dark face filled with disbelief. "Last time I helped logistics move supplies, I sat in a truck for half an hour and almost threw up..."

"A truck?" Monkey approached at some point, holding a water bottle filled with physiological saline. "This thing is much more ruthless than a truck. When our War Eagle Squad first tried it, Big Bear vomited so much he almost brought up last year's New Year's Eve dinner. In the end, he was dragged out by Bobcat."

Hearing this from the side, Big Bear's thick neck turned a rare shade of red, and he grumbled in defense, "That was because I hadn't adapted! Didn't I eventually get third place in the entire brigade?"

Su Han looked at Su Qingcheng, his gaze lingering for a moment on her pale face. "You go first."

Monkey followed her inside to help her fasten the five-point safety harness, then stuffed a mouthpiece into her hand. "If you want to vomit, use this. Don't get the equipment dirty; it's a real hassle to clean."

The cockpit door locked with a "click," isolating the light and sound from the outside.

Su Qingcheng sat in the cramped space, her heart thumping against her chest. The sensors on the cockpit walls emitted a faint green light, making her face look even paler.

"All units, pay attention. The first group for anti-vertigo training is ready to begin," Zhou Mo's voice came through the walkie-talkie with a crackle of static.

Su Han stood at the control console, his finger hovering over the start button. He took one last look at Su Qingcheng in the cockpit—she had her eyes closed, her hands gripping the armrests so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Start!"

At his command, Zhou Mo pressed the start button.

The Fixed Large Wheel began to turn slowly. At first, it was just a slight swaying, rocking rhythmically like a cradle.

But soon, the rotation speed began to increase—10 RPM, 15 RPM, 20 RPM... The wind rushed in through the gaps in the cockpit walls, letting out a sharp howl. The entire world seemed to be tilting and flipping.

"Now beginning the tactical movement simulation!" Su Han's voice came through the built-in speaker, falling clearly into Su Qingcheng's ears. "Hold the gun in your left hand, reach for the grenade at your waist with your right, and report your current azimuth!"

Su Qingcheng snapped her eyes open, but the scene before her was like shattered glass, spinning in fragments.

She struggled to lift her left hand, but her arm felt as heavy as a thousand catties. She finally managed to touch the simulation gun when the cockpit suddenly tilted, and the acid in her stomach instantly surged up her throat.

"Ugh—"

She subconsciously bit down on the mouthpiece. The sour liquid was blocked at her throat, and the burning sensation made tears stream down her face.

"Azimuth... 30 degrees..."

She reported the number indistinctly, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

"Wrong!" Su Han's voice was suddenly stern. "It's a clockwise rotation now. Your reference point should be true north. Report again!"

The rotation speed of the cockpit was still increasing—25 RPM, 28 RPM... Su Qingcheng felt as if her internal organs were spinning along with it. Her brain felt like it had been stuffed into a blender, buzzing incessantly.

She gritted her teeth hard, forcing herself to ignore the overwhelming nausea. She stared at the electronic compass on the cockpit wall—the needle was spinning like crazy, and she couldn't see a stable scale at all.

"I... I don't know..." Her voice carried a hint of crying.

"You don't know?" There wasn't a trace of pity in Su Han's voice. "If you were on a helicopter right now and an enemy aircraft was attacking from 30 degrees, and you couldn't even report the azimuth accurately, the whole squad would be buried with you!"

"35 degrees! It's 35 degrees!" Su Qingcheng suddenly roared. Drawing strength from somewhere, she snapped her head up and stared fixedly at the moment the compass stabilized. "Enemy at 35 degrees, distance 500 meters!"

"Very good," Su Han's voice softened slightly. "Now simulating a parachute jump. Unfasten your safety harness and perform mid-air posture adjustment movements!"

Su Qingcheng trembled as she reached for the buckle of the safety harness, but the immense centrifugal force from the rotation made her fingers unresponsive. She missed several times.

Sweat blurred her vision, and double images began to appear. Aside from the wind, all she could hear was her own heavy breathing and heartbeat.

"There are three minutes left," Su Han announced the time.

"Three minutes..." Su Qingcheng murmured to herself. This phrase was like a glimmer of light, suddenly piercing through the dizzying chaos.

She remembered the first time she had taken a transport plane to the border to observe actual combat. She had also vomited until the world went dark. It was Su Han who had pulled her up from the corner of the cabin and said, "Motion sickness isn't a disease; it's a mental demon. If you are strong, it is weak."

Yes, she had to win. Win against this damn vertigo, win against the gazes that looked down on female soldiers, and win against the self that was always shrinking back!

She took a deep breath, bit down on the mouthpiece, and freed her hands to unfasten the safety harness.

This time, although her fingertips were still shaking, they were exceptionally steady.

The buckle popped open with a "snap." She curled her body accordingly and performed the standard mid-air posture adjustment movements. Although the entire world was still spinning wildly, the initial fear was gone from her eyes.

When the wheel slowly came to a stop and the cockpit door was opened, the blinding sunlight poured in.

Su Qingcheng slumped in the seat like a pile of mud, her face as pale as paper, her lips parched, and a trace of water still hanging from the corner of her mouth.

But when Monkey reached out to help her, she shook her head and struggled to stand up on her own.

"Reporting to Chief Instructor, Su Qingcheng... has completed the training." Her voice was as raspy as sandpaper.

Su Han looked at her and gave a cold laugh. "A total mess! You call this completion?"