The barracks fell into silence, as if everyone was taken aback. In the end, Renly was the first to act. He signaled to Rami and headed outside. Passing the group at the doorway, they were struck dumb, their faces showing bewilderment and astonishment. Renly tugged at the corner of his mouth, saying nothing at all. There was nothing to be said. He left the barracks.
The cigarette in his hand continued to burn gently, and within the swirling smoke, Renly's gaze held profound meaning. Richard's chest seethed with frustration, but he couldn't find the words to vent. He only tossed the cigarette away when it burnt his fingertips, then rushed out, roaring irritably, "Out, get out quickly!"
After charging out of the barracks, Richard's pupils dilated once more. Figures emerged from three different barracks, a bustling and lively scene. A rough estimate suggested there were at least sixty or more individuals. Moreover, more were streaming out intermittently and assembling on the left, indicating an entire company was present.
Richard's gaze landed on Renly and Rami, who had successfully joined the ranks at the front. Grinding his teeth, he hastened his pace to catch up.
Several soldiers stood chatting on the front side, while a few junior officers on the side barked loudly, "Quick! Quick! You sluggish turtles! Women haven't even finished taking off their pants, and they're already giving in. Once on the battlefield, you'll lift your 'backside' for someone's favors!" The obscenely crude words rained down relentlessly, like a storm of fury, leaving no room to breathe.
Had this been a real military camp, a troublemaker might have challenged the authority of the officer. But this wasn't a camp; it was a film crew. They were all hired actors, and most were third-tier or lower. In other words, if the crew dismissed them, there would be no loss. In fact, they couldn't afford the possibility of being fired.
So, Richard raised his head in frustration, flames of anger burning in his eyes. Then, he lowered his head with a sense of helplessness and stood obediently in formation.
The formation was loosely gathered and unevenly spaced. A senior officer strode forward, and his eyes scanned the scene, fiery enough to make the sun overhead seem gentle. "I am Colonel James D. Dye. I will be in charge of your training for the next ten days."
His hawk-like gaze slowly swept over each individual, its intensity making the blazing sun above appear mild. "Starting today, I don't care what your names are. Everyone will refer to you by your character names and match your ranks. During the new recruits' training camp, every sentence must begin with "Sir" and end with "Sir". Do not make me repeat it a second time." There was no threat, no emphasis, yet his resolute words carried an unassailable authority.
With those concise sentences delivered, the Colonel prepared to leave, but his steps paused momentarily. He turned around again. "Also, one very important point: do not use words like "yeah", "yep", or "okay". All responses will use "yes". Yes!" His gaze shifted to the left, "Yes!" Then to the middle, "Yes!" Finally, to the right.
Three succinct words, a commanding presence, rendered the scene utterly silent. It was devoid of any hint of a film crew atmosphere, wholly resembling a new recruits' training camp. In an instant, it felt like they had entered the wrong door. No one would be an exception. Renly found himself inexplicably amused.
The Colonel pivoted crisply this time, his steps not faltering. He shouted toward several officers not far away, "Commence the training."
Following that, the captain who had entered Barracks Eight earlier stepped forward and shouted loudly, "Everyone, get in line! Today is the first day. We'll start with warm-up, a four-mile circuit run! Formation, to the right! About-face!"
Four miles? Warm-up? First day?
Richard lowered his head to inspect his shoes, then glanced at the boots beneath Renly and Rami. A foreboding feeling crept over him, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He called out, "Excuse me..." Pausing, he corrected himself, "Sir! What should we do if the shoes are unsuitable for running?" After a brief pause, he added, "Sir."
The nameless captain shot Richard a glance. "Then take off your shoes and run."
Almost unable to contain their laughter, especially seeing Richard's utterly bewildered expression, they struggled to suppress their mirth. But the laughter was quickly stifled because everyone noticed that Richard wasn't one of the few who had already changed into the proper clothing and shoes like Renly.
Rami looked at Renly with a gleam of delight in his eyes. Finally, he understood what had happened earlier. Clearly, he was fortunate.
"What are you bunch of sissies still doing here? I said, about-face to the right! Turn!" The captain roared once again, and everyone nervously turned to the right. "Maintain the current formation, get ready, run!" Then, he jogged alongside the formation, running with them.
Thus, the new recruits' training camp began abruptly, like a storm. Less than twenty minutes ago, Renly had been sitting in a taxi, earnestly reading the script, envisioning his role as Eugene, and eagerly anticipating his first performance in front of the camera. But now, he was drenched in sweat, running laps around the field for four miles. It sounded like an endless journey without a destination.
The "first day" as an actor was indeed creatively arranged.
Although Renly was mentally prepared, sometimes the synchronization between the body and mind wasn't so straightforward. Four miles equated to over six kilometers, a distance that wasn't easily accomplished by anyone. Even someone as dedicated to fitness as Chris Hemsworth wouldn't find it easy, let alone Renly.
They continued circling the field, one lap after another, the same scenery repeating itself in their vision. By the time they reached the later laps, they became completely numb. They couldn't even distinguish where they had reached. Their feet didn't feel like their own; they moved mechanically and numbly, pushing forward, as if once they stopped, they would never stand up again.
And that's exactly what happened. Just shy of a mile, Richard fell heavily, his ankle twisted. He dropped to the back of the formation. Everyone thought Richard had escaped this ordeal, but little did they know that soon after, accompanied by another sergeant, he began running once more.
When the four miles concluded, Richard, however, wasn't done. He persisted tirelessly, as he was said to run a total of six miles.
However, Renly didn't have the time to care about others. His body had reached its limit, his brain completely numb and unable to think. He could only breathe heavily, every muscle in his body seemingly disobedient. He knew he should slow down a bit, not sit down, or his heart would not be able to bear it. But his heavy feet were almost unable to move, and he wondered how it felt to have feet filled with lead. He was experiencing it now.
Every inch of his bone seemed to groan. He felt like his whole body was falling apart. He couldn't recall how he managed to endure the four miles, and even his instincts seemed to have gone on strike. He relied solely on his breath and the inertia of his feet stumbling forward. When the captain announced the end of the run, he couldn't stop his steps.
The air in his respiratory system and lungs felt scorching hot, as if it were about to boil. His chest began to hurt, or was it his ribs? His ability to sense his body seemed to have skewed.
"La—cough, Renly, don't sit down," Rami's clothes were soaked through, appearing as though he had just been pulled out of water. He supported his knees with both hands, his face unnaturally flushed. "You should... you should walk slowly, otherwise..." Rami pointed at his own heart, but the words couldn't come out.
Renly nodded at Rami, indicating he understood. However, his head merely swayed, and he suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Four miles was far more grueling than he had imagined. Helpless, Renly could only wave to Rami, signaling that he understood, and then fell silent.
At this point, there were bodies strewn all around. The captain only declared the end of the four-mile run after there were bodies lying everywhere. Many had collapsed directly onto the ground, ignoring whether it was dirty or not, regardless of their appearances, and even disregarding their health. They just wanted to lie down and let themselves turn into a puddle of mud. The sight of the horizontal and vertical "corpses" was truly spectacular. There were hardly any left standing.
Compared to others, Renly's condition was already top-notch.
What was even worse, after running in leather shoes for a while, the soles of his feet were blistered, and they burst open during the run, the wounds blurred into a mess. Some couldn't help but take off their shoes. The sight, the smell, and the stinging sensation were almost like summoning yesterday's dinner.
Even though Renly had changed into boots, his feet were also subtly aching now. His heels, the sides of his feet, the front of his soles... he felt like his feet weren't his own anymore. There were probably blisters on his feet too. However, at this point, he was struggling to breathe, and the pain in his feet was temporarily ignored.
The captain stood nearby, disdainfully curling his lips. "This is just the beginning. What a bunch of weaklings." He muttered a couple of sentences and continued, "Rest for fifteen minutes, then the next round of training."
The entire field resounded with moans.
Following that, they proceeded to a collective sit-up exercise. Thirty people divided into two groups, facing each other with legs intertwined, each group forming a straight line of fifteen people, working together to complete sit-ups. This challenged not only their abdominal muscles but also their teamwork. Afterwards, they engaged in an 800-meter cross-country obstacle training, with each person required to complete it at least three times. Following that, they spent two hours practicing shooting, not the kind of playing around, but truly learning to dismantle and assemble firearms, aiming with precision. And after that, a two-mile slow run...
A long day, an incredibly long day, making it hard to believe that this was just the first day.