On the open ground outside the cafeteria.
A hundred or so people stood in a square formation, arranged in rows and columns, standing at attention.
As night fell, the dim streetlights on the ground lit up, yet at a glance, the solemn dignity belonging to soldiers was not diminished one bit, sharp as an edged sword, it fiercely cut through the air.
After a full quarter of an hour's wait, they didn't utter a word, no complaints were heard, each one standing straight and proper, faces stern.
With a black whistle in hand, Mo Shangjun paced to the front of the lined-up crowd.
"Kept you waiting, eh? Any grumbles?" Mo Shangjun's expression was cold and her words were firm and measured, conveying a certain strength.
"No!"
The crowd shouted in unison, promptly and without hesitation.
Mo Shangjun nodded in satisfaction.
Not bad.
"Since that's the case, stand for another half hour," Mo Shangjun said leisurely, "to pay off the debt of locking the door this morning, how about it?"
"..."
