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墨書 Inktalez
Rain revealed a warm smile, one that was perfect—neither excessive nor cold, but just right to make one feel at ease. He extended his hand in an inviting gesture, saying, "Come, have a seat, Mr. Carter. This is not a military camp; relax a little."
The phrase "This is not a military camp" made Carter's heart skip a beat. He almost forgot how long it had been since anyone had reminded him of that.
His body remained habitually tense. Even after years away from the army, he still sat upright, as if waiting for orders at any moment. Relax? He was uncertain how to even begin.
Yet he nodded, still somewhat stiff, and pulled out a chair to sit down.
His hands instinctively rested on the table, gripping the notebook tightly. His knuckles turned slightly white, as if that notebook was the only shield he had in this office. The environment was too clean and orderly, making him feel uneasy. He was nervous but unwilling to show it, redirecting all his anxiety onto the notebook in his hands, as if clinging to the last piece of driftwood that could keep him steady.
The secretary sitting next to Rain glanced at him with sharp eyes, conducting a professional assessment. Then, with a polite yet distant tone, she asked, "Mr. Carter, would you like something to drink?"
Carter instinctively wanted to say "No thanks." He was used to rejecting others' kindness, accustomed to standing guard under the scorching sun without anyone offering him a bottle of water, and used to drinking foul-smelling canned soup in the cold trenches. He never expected anyone to care about what he needed because such things simply did not belong in his life.
But just as he opened his mouth, Rain interrupted him with a warm and assured tone that carried a hint of natural concern. "Carter must have just finished work too. Let's get him a cup of hot tea; after a long day, he deserves to rest a bit."
Carter's hand paused slightly.
He was taken aback, hardly realizing that his shoulders had unconsciously relaxed a little. Rain's words echoed in his ears—just an ordinary expression of concern, simple beyond measure, yet it felt extraordinarily unfamiliar to him.
"Deserves to rest a bit."
That phrase seemed too out of place for someone like him.
Most of the time, he was merely someone who "had obligations," someone who "needed to get the job done," someone who "had to tough it out." No one had ever said such things to him—no one cared whether he was tired or needed rest.
Not in the army, not in society; neither his superiors nor his friends ever did.
But now, someone had said it to him.
He hurriedly nodded as if afraid of missing an important opportunity, his voice slightly hoarse. "Um... okay, thank you."
The secretary nodded slightly without asking further questions and turned to prepare the tea. Meanwhile, Carter sat in the chair, subconsciously rubbing the cover of his notebook with his palm while his gaze flickered slightly.
The conversation had transformed from an ordinary meeting into the beginning of something far more significant.
Rain smiled, lightly tapping his fingers on the table before shifting the tone of the discussion with a hint of certainty. "Carter, you’re here because you want to join our team, right?"
Carter's heart skipped a beat.
He lifted his gaze to meet Rain's eyes. There was no doubt, no probing; only a firm recognition, as if Rain had known all along that Carter would nod in agreement, that he would be sitting there today.
Carter swallowed hard, his throat feeling slightly dry. He hadn’t expected Rain to be so straightforward, skipping the pleasantries and directly asking him, "Are you ready?"
He tightened his grip on the notebook, his fingertips turning pale from the pressure, and slowly nodded.
"Yes, sir." His voice was low but resolute. "I realized yesterday that we have been suppressed for too long."
He paused for a moment, his gaze flickering as if he had finally sorted out his thoughts. He continued, "Someone needs to step up and do something."
He understood what those words meant for him.
It signified that he was no longer just an observer, no longer merely a disgruntled Veteran, nor just a drunken complainer about the government. It meant he was willing to take that step and truly become a "changer."
After speaking, he took a deep breath and was about to pick up the notebook from the table to share his thoughts with Rain when he was interrupted by a sudden movement—
A cup of hot tea was placed in front of him.
"Be careful; it’s hot. Hold it with both hands to avoid spilling," the secretary said calmly but with an insistence that left no room for refusal.
Carter paused for a moment, then reflexively extended both hands to steady the cup.
The warm tea cup pressed against his palms felt slightly hot but brought a long-lost warmth.
He hesitated, looking down at the gently rippling surface of the tea, suddenly feeling as if he had truly stepped into an entirely new realm.
He was no longer just Carter Black, a forgotten Veteran.
He was now someone ready to change something.
Rain smiled and slowly stood up, his movements calm and unhurried, like a seasoned general giving sincere recognition to a trusted warrior joining his ranks.
He walked over to Carter and without hesitation patted him on the shoulder. The force was just right, enough for Carter to feel his trust and expectation.
"Our situation is a bit urgent," Rain said, his tone steady, but his eyes showed no sign of retreat; instead, they radiated a determined resolve. "With your addition and your shared experience, we can definitely win this election."
Carter's heart raced slightly.
This was the first time in his life that he felt his experiences, his pain, and his struggles truly had value.
He was no longer the forgotten Veteran, no longer the man who could only drink alone outside a bar or stare blankly at the distant lights from his apartment balcony.
He had a goal.
He had something to do.
Carter took a deep breath, his gaze becoming more resolute. He took up Rain's words and said softly yet firmly, "We have the capital for change."
Rain's lips curled into a smile as he nodded appreciatively. That smile carried admiration, recognition, and a hint of the victory he had long planned for.
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