Chapter 1528 (1/2)

“None of you are deaf and dumb, no matter how weak you currently are,” Overseer Helen drawled as she slowly surveyed the gathered recruits in front of her. Her hand was on her hip, the fingers tapping rhythmically as she considered. She pursed her lips.“So I’ll say openly what you’ve probably heard in whispers to this point: both Military High Command and the Nexus Labor Council are using the death of a Commandant to broker a deal. That’s why it’s so important to never stop training; if you are too weak at the wrong moment, you die. And after you are dead, you will be nothing but a poker chip to be used and discarded.”

Next to Raymund Ballast, DiOrtho Vant slowly began to frown. The emotions of the surrounding recruits were an uneasy balance between excitement and worry. It was clear that there was a lot at play in the broader Nexus right now, but Raymund was still excited for this opportunity for one reason only: he would have some time to investigate the disappearance of his brother.

Gabriel Swacc has the piece… I’ll find out who you are and what that means…I’ll find you, Techetadore… Raymund clenched his hands.

Meanwhile, Overseer Helen continued to talk. “It is the official position of Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound that recruits should have no contact with governmental or political organizations outside of their current military hierarchy while on leave. In addition, just fucking avoid military types outside of your chain of command. If you stay in line, Randidly Ghosthound will protect you. Otherwise… heh, you are on your own. Godspeed.”

Unfortunately for Raymund’s grand plans, he hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin when it came to searching for information in the Nexus. He understood vaguely that there were certain individuals in the Nexus who specialized in the sale of information, but he didn’t know who those people were or how to find them. He was a country boy in the big city.

His first instinct was to ask either Benjamin, DiOrtho, or Charlotte. They all had powerful backers and he would consider them his closest peers. But… Raymund shook his head decisively. If I were to rely so directly on my companions, would I be any different than these other fools who arrived in the training camp to curry favor…?

But despite his feeling of directionlessness, Raymund Ballast was also determined. After enduring the Ghosthound’s hellish training, wandering around for a bit and seeking these information brokers didn’t seem so overwhelming. He was capable enough to accomplish this task, although the 24-hour time limit was something of a concern.

“Ah, one more thing,” Overseer Helen announced after a long pause. “Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound has decided that we might as well take advantage of this entire day of rest you recruits will have by… adjusting the training schedule leading up to Commandant Lyrim’s funeral. Hehehe. You are not going to enjoy these workouts… but I’m going to enjoy watching you break.”

No one was so brave as to actually grimace or sigh when they heard this completely unexpected but unsurprising news, but Raymund could feel the emotional reverberations around him clearly. For most of the recruits, they had just managed to adjust to the demands on their body. And based on Overseer Helen’s words and expression… this would not be an easy change.

“You have two hours of free time now; do whatever you want. Afterward, we will start with four hours of physical fitness training. Prepare yourselves.” Then Overseer Helen shooed lightly in dismal.

“How much more difficult are they going to make it to just move?” DiOrtho grumbled. But although Vant was the most vocal complainer amongst the recruits, it was also true that he was the only one radiating a cautious excitement at the news. The man was practically glowing about the increase in training difficulty. He met every oncoming challenge with a scowl and malicious glee.

His approach to risk is extremely deficient and unnatural, Raymund sighed. Around them, the various recruits were either furiously discussing the funeral with one another or returning to their dwellings, probably also to arrange for further discussions. The more Raymund watched their considered arrangements, the more exhausted he became.

For these individuals who had constantly been seeking out and making political connections in the sphere of Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound’s training camp, this announcement was the signal to advance what ‘plans’ they possessed to the ‘final stage’. They were building bridges and cutting deals between the various factions. But honestly, Raymund had very little understanding of what these recruits had of worth to offer each other.

They were just soldiers that hadn’t even fought yet. They could head to the Fifth Cohort and die and they would be forgotten within a week.

Mumbling to himself, DiOrtho wandered away from Raymund, likely heading for the bamboo forest to think. Raymund let him go without comment. Managing the most powerful recruit as part of his squad was difficult enough under normal circumstances. When it wasn’t important, he was perfectly content allowing the ram-demon to go about his own business.

Moving quickly, Raymund Ballast returned to his clumsily made hovel and walked underneath the roof. Although it wasn’t currently raining, the weather patterns changed before your very eyes in this controlled climate that the Ghosthound maintained. Almost as though on cue, as soon as Raymund was under his shelter, the wind in the surroundings began to stir. Even from a distance, the sound of the rustling bamboo forest echoed through the area.

For a second he looked over at the vine-y, purple tomatoes creeping up out of his garden with a bit of concern considering the quickly rising wind. But then he shook himself; that wasn’t important right now. What Raymund needed to do was decide how he should proceed.

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He didn’t currently have the clout to command respect, but he was affiliated with the Ghosthound. From the way that Raymund had heard other recruits talking about their Head Drill Sergeant, he was clearly a rising star in the Nexus. But at the same time…

Raymund’s snout twitched. Overseer Helen’s words made it clear that the sort of interaction that Raymund intended to take was a betrayal. Relying on the Ghosthound’s reputation to cut a deal was not an honorable move. His intentions were outside of the context of what she had been talking about, but at the same time…

Yet what am I supposed to do? My world is dying. They cannot wait for me to become a famous Commander. And at the rate that I’m improving… A deep shame welled up in Raymund’s chest as he considered how he had fallen to the high twenties in terms of rankings amongst the recruits. We need Techetadore. He is the one with the six tails. He was the one who was born for this. I’m just…