Rowdy Brightwill was momentarily speechless.
Yes.
Many who have gone through the selection training have experienced such things.
Injuries, illnesses.
In the midst of pain and agony, they forge ahead step by step, enduring bit by bit, all the way to the present.
But...
When it came to Flossie Wright, Rowdy Brightwill subconsciously dismissed the idea.
Personal emotions were too deeply involved.
He couldn't help it; his heart ached, and he couldn't stand to see her suffer even the slightest torment.
"Flossie Wright!"
Seeing that he remained silent, Nancy Phillips turned her head and called out sharply.
"Present!"
Flossie responded.
"Finish firing your rounds, then run fifty laps on the track," Nancy ordered.
"Yes!"
Flossie's expression was unchanged.
Having said that, she handed her gun to the person next to her recording the data, picked up her Type 95, and turned to leave the room directly.
