"Ah! Class monitor, don't!"
"Fuck... Fuck!"
A medley of screams, pleas, and laughter echoed on the training ground.
Among them were also cries of pain, desperate begging, and even some unexpected joy.
"Haha! Stay still, stay still. It'll be better soon!"
"Ouch, don't bite me!"
"Haha, alright, alright, buddy. Just endure it, endure it. It'll be fine later."
...
For Wang Ye and the others, it was quite entertaining to watch.
They didn't have to endure such pain. They observed the other recruits, especially those from their hometown or acquaintances, with great amusement as their hands and feet were massaged.
"Wangye, buddy, Old Wang... Let me go, let me go!"
One of the recruits, Yan Zhiming from Class Eight, was looking at Wang Ye pleadingly.
