**Saturday.**
7:00 a.m.
Despite staying at the Sexy Lady Bar until midnight and personally escorting Stella home, Long Zhan wasn't taking the weekend to laze in bed.
A man of unwavering discipline for years, he had already spent an hour working out in the gym. And we're not talking lightweights—he started his bench press at 200 kilograms.
After wrapping up his morning routine of "forging iron," Long Zhan was preparing to take a shower and then head to the library to study Latin. Along the way, he intended to research details about Samir's birthplace.
That's when the fiery and curvaceous Diaz approached him. Admiring his sweat-drenched, sculpted physique, she handed him a temporary access card. She informed him of a new external support mission and reminded him to be in the conference room on the third floor of headquarters by 8:00 a.m. sharp.
Every mission with Team B brought him closer to becoming an official member. Long Zhan wasn't about to miss such a prime opportunity.
He returned to his dorm, grabbed some clothes, and took a quick shower. Under the envious gazes of his roommates, Clay and Brian, he "slipped away quietly."
With over 40 minutes until the meeting, elsewhere in the first-floor cafeteria, two key Team B members—Jason and Ray—were having breakfast.
"Ray, let me tell you something. In my 15 years on this team, the one thing I regret the most is not being there to witness the birth of my kids. Maybe—just maybe—if you want to be there for yours, I can help you out."
Jason, already a father, could empathize deeply with Ray's current state of mind. After reflecting on it last night, Jason felt his long-time brother-in-arms deserved the full experience of fatherhood.
Ray's response, however, was unexpected. "I don't think I've missed out on much, to be honest. Life always has its regrets, doesn't it?" he said casually, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"The expected due date is at the end of the month. If this mission goes smoothly, I'll probably make it in time. And even if I don't, it's fine. I've already spoken to Nema—she'll call her mom to accompany her if I can't make it."
Ray's tone was light, but his mind was filled with a flood of overdue bank statements.
Beach City, with its stunning East Coast shores, attracted countless tourists every year, making it a prosperous city. But this prosperity came with high living costs.
With his wife pregnant and on maternity leave, their savings had been completely drained. Missing even a single mission—and the high-risk operation allowances that came with it—would plunge Ray's family into severe financial trouble.
For the sake of his wife's safe delivery and the expensive costs of raising a child, Ray had no choice but to set aside his emotions and participate in every operation.
Jason, facing similar financial pressures, understood Ray's predicament. He chose not to expose him and instead chuckled, "Honestly, you should be there for the delivery."
"I'll try," Ray shrugged, masking his inner longing.
One mission could earn thousands of dollars in bonuses, while an entire year's salary was only $50,000 to $60,000. A few missions could equal a year's earnings. No one was willing to forgo such extra income—especially those with families and heavy responsibilities as the household's backbone.
While these two hardened elite soldiers discussed the trivialities of family life, Long Zhan, freshly informed, entered the cafeteria.
Spotting Team B's captain and vice-captain, Long Zhan wasted no time grabbing a tray and heading over. "Jason, Ray, good morning. Mind if I sit here?"
"Of course not," Jason replied, shifting his tray aside when he saw it was Long Zhan.
"Morning," Ray greeted, his gaze falling on the towering pile of food on Long Zhan's tray. "Is that your breakfast?"
Jason, at first oblivious due to his angle, looked up at Ray's remark. When he finally saw, his eyes widened in disbelief.
Three filet mignons, four servings of Mexican sausages, six Alabama egg sandwiches, five servings of baked egg pies, and a massive bowl of apple soup.
This spread could easily feed five or six fully grown men. And this was just breakfast.
"Not bad. Barely enough to fill me up. If the tray were bigger, I'd have grabbed two bacon cheeseburgers as well," Long Zhan replied, completely nonchalant in the face of their stunned expressions. He wasn't exaggerating, either.
Long Zhan's body recovered far faster than a normal person's, and the energy required for that recovery didn't materialize out of thin air. Coupled with his towering 6'4" frame and the intense calorie burn from PLT training, his weight was climbing rapidly back to 250 pounds.
In these circumstances, eating less simply wasn't an option.
Two more burgers?
Jason and Ray replayed that line in their minds, unable to think of a suitable retort. They could only imagine this hulking newcomer as some kind of competitive eater, which made his oversized appetite slightly more understandable.
The three finished breakfast together—or, more accurately, Jason and Ray waited for Long Zhan to finish—then took the elevator to the third floor. It was nearly 8:00 a.m. by the time they arrived. Everyone else was already present, and the operational briefing commenced.
As captain, Jason took the lead. "Listen up. The mission details have been sent to everyone. I trust you've reviewed them last night. Here's what we know so far: the area we're heading to cannot be monitored via drones, and I think it's safe to say using helicopters is out of the question."
"Exactly," Mandy added. "The Syrian government forces, fully backed by Russia, have threatened to shoot down any aircraft entering Syrian airspace. Taking a helicopter would make us sitting ducks."