Day three, and we're back on the full-scale physical fitness training---another day of pushing ourselves to our limits. The dessert during lunchtime and dinner were chocolate cakes and mocha cake, correspondingly.
I searched for Ace to say sorry. I'd still want us to be friends. And besides, he got angry indeed with a reason. It must've been really my fault.
Laws and Outlaws is that subject wherein lawyers do their best to pass. Our lawyer named Greg said we would study the country and other countries' constitutions and laws. Aside from that, this class will introduce you to the worst criminal minds in the history of mankind.
"Some of them," said Greg. "Are still on the run."
He paused and sighed. "Forgive me that was wrong. Some of them aren't running, but pursuing--- pursuing the government in their own way."
The worst of them is the group of vigilante calling themselves Populace Bandits. This is their insignia.
The screen shifted to an image of two letters conjoined, forming a butterfly that's missing a quarter of its wing. Ominous, the only word I can describe it. And for the first time, I raised a hand to ask a question.
"Yes, little girl," said Greg. He looked really eager, for someone like me who had been observing everyone even passively, this is a considerable change.
"Why do they call themselves Populace Bandits?" I asked. I cleared the lump building in my throat. "We've never heard of them before."
"This group's sole purpose is to lessen the world's population believing that in doing so will save humanity in the next hundreds of years," Greg sounded more like awed than angry.
"So they're terrorists, is that it?" asked I.
"Not just any terrorist," he sighed. "They are THE terrorists."
The screen turned to another picture or pictures shuffling in a timely order for us to contemplate the message for wars and havoc all over the world for the past two hundred years.
"Rumor has it that they are being led by a bunch of geniuses who can control even the leaders of the world," Greg said in a dream-like tone.
"Where are they?" it was Minnie who asked.
Greg just shrugged. "They're everywhere."
I took a deep breath and bit my lip. I wanted to stop talking, but I just couldn't. His tone is giving me the creeps. "You must be one of them since they're everywhere."
Greg just laughed. "Ridiculous."
"Oh yeah---"one of the other kids wanted to grill him, but he suddenly slammed a palm on the table.
"I am one of those who hated them so much that my hate had started to become an obsession," his voice isn't so enthralling now but horrible. "I belong to the investigating team whose sole purpose is to locate and annihilate every single one of them!"
What a maniac.
"Half my life, I dedicated to that sole mission, and do you know why I'm here now teaching brats of the do's and don'ts of the society?"
The air suddenly became thick and suffocating.
"Why?" it was Ace who was dauntless enough to ask.
"To siphon out the would-be Bandits," he said and grinned, boring his gaze unto our every soul. "Just kidding!" He mused and smiled at us like nothing revolting had happened. "I was just given this assignment after my one-year suspension."
The class continued like it was some typical class in the middle of a peaceful university. But the drafted kids of the Northern Base weren't the least bit tranquilized.
The next day, we finished a five-lap run across the field, this time though we had gears to carry. They're not that heavy, but as time passed by, it took a toll on its own, and as we finished, I'd exhausted all my energy. Luckily, I managed to get away with sleeping off Psychology by squatting on the corner until the class ended. On second thought, I didn't get away with my misdeed at all.
Again, Loki asked to be my sparring partner. He's strong, and I had not yet landed an attack on him since the first time he asked me to spar. On the other hand, I never made it out of that class without a bruise somewhere. This girl, though, became famous for sending every sparring partner she had to the infirmary. But when she partnered up with Loki, she got defeated.
---
"That's horrible," a guy with very messy hair said. They were asked to acquire new names the moment they joined the boot camp. No one knows each other's real name, and this boy who just approached me calls himself Loki--- the God of Mischief. And like how his name suggests, this guy is the only one who is crazy enough to make a prank against the second in command on our first day as trainees. He punched the sergeant on the face real hard and knocked him out for a couple of seconds. He got himself in detention to squat against the wall. If he fails, he'll not be getting food for the whole day. He conceded. Loki has become well-known since then.
I ignored him and watched them beat the kid down.
"Hey, isn't that the guy who came with you here at the Boot Camp?" a girl asked, unable to comprehend that I don't want to talk at the moment. "That's the punk who rode the same chopper as you, right?"
"Yeah," I answered just to shut her up. She's talking about the bullies' leader, Ace.
"And that fragile-looking individual is the one whom you saved from them, am I right?" she continued folding his arms and nodding like he had already been answered. It was actually Minnie who saved him. It was the kid who got thrown on our table the other day.
"You know them?" asked the girl. Like Loki, this kid is quite famous. Her name is Bee, probably the prettiest girl around. And she is one of those girls who are obsessed with feminism. She hates men so much that she sends any guy partnered with her to the infirmary in seconds during our self-defense lessons.
"I didn't save him from them," I answered stiffly. Why was she being surrounded by famous kids anyway? The last thing she needs in this Boot Camp is fame. She wants nothing but peaceful, carefree life. And in this place, getting famous is the same as digging your own grave.
Minnie, where are you?
Ranging from ages 11-13, each was brought here for one sole purpose, training them to be soldiers. According to the Lieutenant, the new president secretly arranged this boot camp for children who could be decent soldiers. And having a very grave yet with a will of the iron president, whose number one mission is to eradicate crime in this third world country, is not reasonably as practical as the citizens think. Training kids this way can very well fall under child abuse. But probably like her, they all agreed to be here. The reason why varies.
Get extra attention, and they will assign you to the most challenging jobs once this Boot Camp is over. I want to be a police officer out to kill drug-involved hooligans.
"Hey, Meow," Bee called, and she winced. That's me. And this Meow doesn't want to get associated with famous kids like them. "Are you listening?"
It has been five days of intense bodybuilding and rigorous self-defense training. Although the lessons were very informational and handy, the bodybuilding and toning were excruciating. My first two days were like hell, the hell of pain, that is. I'm used to suffering.
"What?" I asked and sighed. I stared at the curious expression on Bee's face.
"Why don't we help him?" she asked and had probably just repeated herself, for I noticed that even Loki looked ready to butt in.
"Naaah, I'd rather not---"
But another kid approached them and pulled Loki, who pulled Bee, who pulled me towards the main scene.
"Lego of me, Gator!" Loki yelled, yet his face looked cheerful.
The Alligator kid ignored him and headed towards the source of the commotion. They heard one of the bullies' voices saying,
"Kneel down and eat dust, you maggot!"
Alas, they halted. But Bee kept her captive.
"Leave him alone!" Alligator kid shouted, which took everyone's attention. The Boot Camp, which, according to the captain, has a population of five hundred kids, and by the looks of it, probably a quarter of the headcount is watching this very scene.
"Maggots don't eat dust stupid," Bee said, and the guy growled, pissed.
Loki, whose grin is probably everlasting, approached the big bully who calls himself Ace--- the kid who rode the same chopper as me.
"Ace, what's up?" he asked and put his arm on Ace's shoulder.
"Get your filthy hand off me, idiot," Ace said, and the scowl on his face grew darker.
"Not making another mess, are we?" Loki asked and met his glare with a nice set of teeth.
The Alligator Kid walked towards the battered boy kneeling down on the ground.
"I said get off!" Ace shouted, took Loki's arm, and threw him away. I wanted to praise that perfect throw but decided otherwise. Ace, if not the strongest, is the meanest kid around. No one dares meet his wrath in a full head collision. Even Loki knows Ace is not someone to be crossed. Ace overcoming the Lieutenant's every detention, even the most difficult ones, is proof enough of how strong he is. I witnessed how Loki spun to regain composure. Yes, next to Ace, Loki has the most number of detentions. The only difference is Loki gets his detention by playing pranks, not beating other kids down.
Loki's sense of balance is top-notch.
Ace attacked again, grabbing Loki but failed. And the riot began. Alligator is up against another bully while Bee confronts two. On the other hand, I was about to make a run for it but got blocked by the biggest one of them all--a beefy kid with barely any neck visible looked down on me. He grinned. Well, he's twice my built; no wonder he'll feel triumphant.
I braced myself but almost tripped in disbelief when I saw my opponent attack. It was probably the slowest jab there is. I dodged smoothly, fighting the urge to hurt this humanoid cholesterol. I ducked and dodged and dodged. The big guy tripped and fell down on his own. And because of his physique, he struggled to regain his footing. He reminded her of a turtle hurled upside down. Bee threw one of the bullies at him, and the big kid fell unconscious. Another one was sent down at the pile, and Alligator threw another. Meow looked at Alligator and Bee, who were both panting and bit her lip.
She was about to turn and leave them when she heard someone fall down on the ground. She turned to Loki and Ace and found the latter sitting on the floor. Everyone gasped, and whispers followed.
Ace quickly jumped up, and the Lieutenant's whistle drilled against their eardrums. How anyone could summon enough air to produce such a long-lasting high-pitched whistle is still a mystery inside Meow's head. The bullied kid fell down and fainted.
The next thing I knew, I was off to the field, pulling what seemed to be a tire of a ten-wheeler truck.