119: Chapter 119 The Atmosphere of the Base, Mo Ying's Wavering

Three more days passed.

Mo Ying's rib bandages were removed, leaving only a dark red, scabbing scar.

He moved his arm around, and apart from a slight stiffness, it had basically returned to normal.

When Kuina came to check on him, she simply examined his wound, nodded, and didn't say anything more.

She only told him that he was free to move around within the Navy Base, but not to go too far.

This was considered a tacit approval, as well as a test.

Mo Ying accepted it silently.

Wrapped in that ill-fitting hospital gown, he walked out of the ward he had stayed in for so long.

For the first time in a true sense, he walked alone inside this Marine base named the 18th Branch.

The early morning sunlight spilled over the flagstone-paved road, carrying warmth.

There was no smoke or blood in the air, only the fresh fragrance of plants and trees and the sound of distant waves.

He walked slowly along the path like a wandering soul, observing this military camp that was completely different from what he knew.

On the training ground, soldiers were drilling.

But just as he had observed in the past few days, the training intensity wasn't high, let alone rigorous.

They practiced formations, shooting, and combat with standard movements and a serious attitude.

However, there were no hoarse roars from instructors during the process, nor physical punishment for mistakes.

A young soldier accidentally took a tumble during combat practice; instead of laughing at him, his companion smiled, reached out to pull him up, and patted the dust off his body.

The supervising sergeant simply corrected his posture in a peaceful tone.

Mo Ying frowned.

This... can also be called a Marine?

In his past perception, an army meant absolute discipline, high-pressure training, and ruthless obedience.

How could such loose, and even gentle, training cultivate elite soldiers?

He continued walking forward, bypassing the training ground, and saw a scene that felt even more absurd to him.

In the open space on the side of the base, several soldiers had their trouser legs rolled up and were working in a vegetable patch.

Someone was weeding with a bent back, and someone was carrying a bucket of water to water plants, sweat soaking their backs.

But there was focus on their faces, and even... enjoyment?

Not far away, a few other soldiers were repairing the roof of a row of warehouses, the clanging pounding sounds exceptionally clear in the early morning air.

This wasn't a military camp at all; it was clearly a self-sufficient farm.

He turned a bend and came under the iconic large banyan tree.

Lin Han was indeed there.

He was still wearing that loose white shirt, with a Justice cloak draped casually over it, lying on that familiar rattan chair.

Holding a cup of hot tea in his hand, his eyes were squinted, looking like he was sunbathing or dozing off.

Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the banyan tree, casting mottled light and shadows on his body.

Not far away by the fish pond, that giant who had once given him an inexplicable sense of trepidation—Saul, was sitting on a huge rock.

Holding a thin fishing rod extremely disproportionate to his size, he stared intently at the water's surface.

As soon as the bobber moved, he chuckled and lifted the rod.

Occasionally catching a palm-sized small fish, he would casually throw it into the bucket beside him with a cozy expression.

Mo Ying stood in the distance, quietly watching this scene.

A Marine rear admiral, during the morning office hours, lying in the yard sunbathing and drinking tea.

A gigantic giant leisurely fishing.

This kind of scene was so absurd that he didn't know how to react for a moment.

Is this really a Navy Base?

Or could this place actually be some sort of isolated sanatorium?

Just as he was thinking, a commotion came from the direction of the base gate.

Mo Ying instinctively slipped into the shadows of the banyan tree, looking over alertly.

Several local villagers wearing coarse cloth clothes, carrying shoulder poles and pushing carts, walked into the base.

Inside the shoulder poles were fresh vegetables and poultry eggs, and on the carts were several baskets of fruit still glistening with dew.

As soon as they entered, they familiarly greeted the soldiers standing guard at the gate.

The soldiers also responded with smiles, helping to move things, weighing them, and then taking out their money pouches to pay.

"Old Zhang, today's greens are really fresh and tender!"

"Hey, freshly picked, they're very fresh! Bringing some good ones for your branch, you guys work hard on patrol."

"Auntie Wang, these eggs are evenly sized, just right for extra meals in the cafeteria."

"Oh my, young brother, the fence you helped me fix last time is so sturdy, this basket of fruit is on me!"

Everyone talked and laughed, the atmosphere harmonious like a family.

There was no guard, no interrogation, only the familiarity and enthusiasm of neighbors and folks.

Mo Ying even saw a soldier pour the water from his own canteen for a sweaty villager child to drink.

This scene had a greater impact on Mo Ying than seeing Lin Han sunbathing.

He had seen too many relationships between Marines and civilians.

Either civilians avoided them out of fear, or Marines demanded things arrogantly.

Interactions like this, equal, mutual, and even carrying a hint of intimacy, were almost unimaginable in his life over the past twenty-plus years.

He leaned against the rough tree trunk, silently watching all of this.

The sunlight shone warmly on his body, and the laughter, voices, and labor sounds of the people in the base intertwined into a background sound filled with the breath of life that he had never experienced before.

This feeling... was very unfamiliar.

But for some reason, it wasn't repulsive.

He thought of his days in Baroque Works.

Every day his nerves were taut, trembling in Crocodile's shadow, surviving amidst missions and internal strife.

People around him might be companions today, but tomorrow they might become targets to be cleared out simply because they knew a certain secret.

There was no trust, only utilization and betrayal.

Warmth?

That was the most extravagant and dangerous thing; once possessed, it could become a fatal weakness.

But here...

Mo Ying's gaze swept across the simple smiling faces of those soldiers, swept across Lin Han's defenseless sleeping posture, swept across the giant Saul's honest profile, and then swept across those villagers chatting and laughing with the Marines.

An emotion highly unfamiliar to him, like the thawing stream water of early spring, quietly moistened his long-hardened and cold heart.

That wasn't being moved, let alone gratitude.

Rather, it was a deeper, instinctive... yearning.

Perhaps... working under him wouldn't be bad?

This thought popped up uncontrollably once again.

This time, it wasn't immediately suppressed by his vigilance and doubts.

The least bad choice provided by Lin Han, under these days of observation, seemed to truly reveal a possibility different from hell.

Although unknown, although risks still remained.

But at least here, there was sunlight, the fragrance of tea, and... a human touch.

He stood in the shadows of the banyan tree, the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves, casting flickering light spots on his face.

He looked at that Marine rear admiral lying on the rattan chair, seemingly nonchalant about everything.

The balance in his heart, after a long struggle and observation, finally began to tilt irreversibly to one side.

He still needed an opportunity.

A confirmation, or rather, a reason to let himself completely take that step.

Right at this moment, Lin Han opened his eyes at some unknown point, seemingly sensing something, and turned his head.

He met the gaze of Mo Ying hiding in the tree shadows right on.

Lin Han didn't speak, merely picked up his teacup, raised it toward him, the corners of his mouth curving into that familiar, inscrutable arc.

Then, he took another leisurely sip of tea.

Everything went without saying.

Mo Ying took a deep breath.

The air mixed with the fresh fragrance of plants and the aroma of food flooded into his lungs.

Slowly and firmly, he walked out of the tree shadows, stood in the sunlight, and met Lin Han's gaze.