As usual, Jefferson left the house early on the first morning. When he left, his cousin was still asleep. For some reason, Jefferson now found his once-annoying cousin to be quite lovely.
Upon arriving at the camp, Jefferson was about to retrieve his weighted suit when he was stopped by Miss Christine, the military officer, just as he reached the equipment room door.
Inside the equipment room were not only Miss Christine but also Captain Wallis, Master Eileen, and Miss Monica.
Seeing so many people there, Jefferson was initially puzzled. However, he soon noticed an object placed on the nearby table.
At first glance, this object resembled a human skeleton with slender limbs, a segmented spine, interconnected ribs, and a pelvis that looked like a seat.
However, this skeleton also had some familiar components: magi-muscles, directional shafts, and shock absorbers, all of which were parts used in battle armor.
"Is this battle armor?" Jefferson asked uncertainly. If it was, it was the shabbiest armor he had ever seen.
"It's also training armor, specially prepared for you," Christine explained, knowing what Jefferson was thinking. "Training armor is essentially a simplified version of battle armor. It has fewer magi-muscles, so it doesn't enhance strength and speed as much. The energy core can only maintain the operation of the training armor and cannot activate attack techniques. However, it will familiarize you with operating battle armor."
Christine gestured for Jefferson to come over and then pushed him in front of the training armor.
The training armor was much smaller than regular battle armor, just a bit larger than Jefferson himself, clearly custom-made.
The pelvis area was indeed a seat. As soon as Jefferson sat down, he felt a tightness around his legs, and steel rings popped out from both sides, clamping his legs firmly to the seat.
"Place your feet and arms inside," Christine ordered. She produced a helmet from somewhere, with a movable front and two pale blue glass panels over the eyes.
Following Miss Christine's instructions, Jefferson "wore" the training armor. Or rather, he finally managed to get inside it.
Wearing the armor felt very strange. When still, it didn't feel heavy at all, but once he moved, he felt resistance, as if he were moving through water. The faster he moved, the greater the resistance.
"You should get used to the feel of the upper body first, then learn to walk and run. Formal training will begin once you can perform any movement while wearing this training armor," said Master Eileen.
"Does this mean I don't have to do weight training anymore?" Jefferson asked.
"Yes," Master Eileen's words delighted Jefferson, but she quickly followed with a bucket of cold water: "From now on, you'll run wearing this training armor." She pointed to a corner of the equipment room where many lead plates were piled up. "These are for additional weight. Each plate weighs sixty kilograms, and the total weight is about four tons, equivalent to the heavy defensive armor you'll wear in the future."
With a devilish smile, Miss Eileen continued, "In one month, you'll need to run back and forth five laps with all the weights on, within an hour."
Jefferson almost stumbled to the ground. This was far more brutal than weight training.
"I believe you can succeed," Miss Christine said nonchalantly. "Your progress is the fastest I've ever seen, and I have high hopes for you."
Jefferson could only force a smile, though it looked more like a grimace.
Gritting his teeth, Jefferson didn't want to be looked down upon by the women. "What should I do?" he asked, standing tall.
The answer shocked him.
"The answer is for you to figure out. Do you need us to teach you how to run and jump?" Master Eileen said, giving him a tap on the head.
"I have a suggestion," Miss Monica said kindly, smiling. "Today's breakfast is potato and beef stew. Why don't you peel the potatoes for us?"
Time was running out. Just thinking about failing to meet Master Eileen's requirements in a month sent chills down Jefferson's spine.
The master's punishments were indeed terrifying.
With no other choice, Jefferson made his final decision... to skip class.
Given that it was wartime, the school wasn't particularly strict, so skipping class was relatively easy. His reason was quite valid: as long as Miss Eileen wrote a small note under the name of the Knights, it was enough to handle the school.
Jefferson spent the entire morning peeling potatoes, which were piled up like a mountain, enough to bury him.
At first, Jefferson suspected that the kind-hearted Miss Monica might be playing a prank on him. However, after half an hour of peeling, he realized that this was indeed a form of training.
This seemingly simple task turned out to be quite challenging. He had to bend down to pick up a potato from the ground, then use a knife to peel it, and finally put the peeled potato into a basin. This process required him to bend down twice and stretch his arms twice, with his fingers and hands working together.
The biggest benefit was that whether he succeeded or failed was immediately visible from the peeled potatoes.
No matter how standard his movements were, if the potatoes ended up looking like they had been gnawed by a dog or were mashed into potato pulp, it was clearly a failure.
For three consecutive days, Jefferson peeled potatoes, and the people in the camp ate potato and beef stew for three days straight. As a result, on the evening of the third day, he was dragged into a room by the cross-dressing Miss Tina and beaten up.
Fortunately, on the fourth morning, when Jefferson arrived at the kitchen, the floor was no longer covered with potatoes but with a pile of greens.
Compared to peeling potatoes, picking greens was much easier, but doing so while wearing the training armor was a different story. Too much force, and the greens turned into a pile of shredded leaves; too little force, and the wilted leaves couldn't be picked off, sometimes even tearing the good leaves.
This time, Jefferson finally learned his lesson. He didn't aim for speed right away but instead focused on finding the right feel.
Having keen senses was crucial at this moment. In just one day, his actions became quite competent. Before the cross-dressing Miss Tina could turn pale with anger, Jefferson had perfectly completed his task.
A week later, the kitchen floor was piled with pods.
Seeing these, Jefferson felt like crying. These had to be shelled by hand, relying entirely on the fingers' sense of touch. While the training armor could transmit sensations, it certainly wasn't as sensitive and accurate as his own fingers.
Exhausted, Jefferson returned home, feeling like his fingers were about to cramp. However, what troubled him more was that Miss Tina had been eating beans for two consecutive days. Eating the same food for nine meals in a row would surely drive her crazy, and he was certain he'd get a good beating tomorrow.
With this realization, the gentle and kind image of Miss Monica was completely shattered.
This was the perfect definition of "killing with a borrowed knife."