"Instructor, I've finished running!"
Seeing that the bald instructor was stunned and didn't respond to his words, **Ryo Akira** raised his voice and shouted again.
"Oh, okay, go back to the team!"
The instructor snapped out of his daze, adjusted his demeanor, and calmly instructed **Ryo Akira**.
**Ryo** immediately returned to the group, acting like a model recruit. He had made a mistake and was called out for it. Thankfully, the system provided him with a task that helped him complete the exercise. He just hoped the instructor wouldn't make things worse for him now.
As recruits, the early training was focused on the basics. They weren't yet equipped with the maneuvering gear. It was too soon—they weren't familiar with the theoretical knowledge or how to use the gear. Instead, they were introduced to basic principles and lessons that laid the groundwork for what was to come.
The instructor spent a long time lecturing them on the rules, belittling their skills. The recruits, who felt humiliated, were starting to question their own worth.
**Ryo** knew this was part of the process. It was the tradition of the training corps to break them down, to push them away from their old selves, and make them into something new. They were being prepared for the terrifying Titans.
The Titans were monstrous enemies, capable of devastating destruction. They were known for their cruelty, eating humans like animals. If a recruit was defeated, it wasn't just a death sentence; it meant they would become food for the Titans. That's why the instructors referred to them as "future rations for the Titans."
Fighting Titans wasn't just about strength—it was about mental fortitude. Witnessing comrades die in front of them or being consumed by Titans would haunt anyone.
For those who had never encountered a Titan, the survival rate was incredibly low when they first faced one.
The mortality rate in the Garrison Corps was as high as 90%, with nearly all recruits meeting an early grave. Even the elite Survey Corps, known for their skill and experience, had a casualty rate of 50%.
The Survey Corps was the most elite division, made up of highly skilled soldiers who were the main force against the Titans. Facing such an enemy was a terrifying prospect, and the reality of the battlefield weighed heavily on every recruit.
"Finally, time to eat!"
After hours of grueling training, the recruits finally got a break for lunch. Afterward, they only had thirty minutes to rest before heading out for afternoon field training.
The training corps offered various courses: theoretical lessons, combat drills, survival tactics, and field training. The recruits were being prepared for future assignments in one of the three main military branches.
Whether they ended up in the Survey Corps, Garrison Corps, or the Military Police Corps, all recruits came from this Training Corps.
"Ugh, is this all? Just one potato and a piece of bread? How is anyone supposed to get full on this?"
"There's soup over there. Stop complaining. If you're still hungry, just drink some soup!"
"That soup is just hot water! It's tasteless. Whoever wants to drink it, be my guest."
During lunch, the recruits began to grumble.
While the food was enough to sustain them, it wasn't exactly plentiful. Unlike the civilians outside who often went hungry, the recruits didn't have to worry about starving. However, they were still far from being treated like regular soldiers, and their rations were basic at best.
The food was just enough to keep them going. It wasn't great, but it would do for now. Unfortunately, most of the food was close to expiration—preserved to last just long enough to be used up here.
At first, **Ryo** struggled with the food. Used to modern meals, the half-cooked sweet potatoes and hard, tasteless bread didn't appeal to him. He had no appetite and didn't even want to try it.
But after a few days of hunger, **Ryo** gave in.
It didn't taste great, but it was edible. And if he added some seasoning, it was much more bearable.
What seasoning did he bring?
A small bottle of hot sauce.
Hot sauce was perfect—it was compact, easy to carry, and made everything taste better.
Now, eating the bland bread became a bit more tolerable. A small dip of the sauce made the taste much more enjoyable.
"System, how much food do I have for this month? I still have the hot sauce, right? Wait… how is it all gone? Did you take my supplies?"
Supplies were limited in this world. To help **Ryo** survive, the system provided a monthly allowance of basic supplies. Though he couldn't rely on it entirely, it certainly made his life easier in the Training Corps.
Currently, **Ryo's** system rating was level 0, just a rookie recruit. But if he completed more tasks and leveled up, he would earn better rewards from the system.
And getting better food was a major incentive for **Ryo**, a self-proclaimed foodie, to push himself harder and become stronger!