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墨書 Inktalez
“Hmm.” Freyr nodded slightly, continuing to follow behind the two.
After leaving the recruitment office and being led to the back door, he stepped outside and noticed a Green Pickup Truck parked at the entrance.
The Young Officer pointed to the truck and said, “Get in. We’ll leave once we have enough people. Just wait a moment.”
Freyr stared blankly at the truck, then saluted and replied, “Yes!” He climbed into the back of the truck.
Inside the truck, everyone was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed in contemplation. When they saw a newcomer arrive, they immediately perked up. It was clear that among them were various professionals; one recent graduate like Freyr had a thick Goatee, making him look more like a miner than a student. Their conversations revealed a sense of concern for the future. Some of them were Miners who had no other options but to enlist, fully aware that joining the military depended on the type of unit. Frontline soldiers faced near-certain death on the battlefield.
The Mobile Unit recruited soldiers based on practical skills; even being good with a gun or knowing how to fight counted as valuable experience. Freyr was uncertain why he had been chosen to join the Mobile Unit. Although he had previously served in the Mecha Unit, he understood that there were significant differences between the two. He was also aware of the harsh conditions faced by soldiers in the Mobile Unit.
“Hey, you with the Goatee! Were you a miner before? I think we could be friends since we both look like regular folks. I’m Nosty; what’s your name?”
As the curtain fell, the atmosphere in the back of the truck grew slightly dimmer.
However, in that dim light, Freyr felt a sudden kick at his heel. He opened his eyes and heard a voice beside him.
“Hello, Nosty. I’m Freyr. I’m not a miner, but you’re right about one thing—I’m just an ordinary person. Nice to meet you.” Freyr responded with concern.
Receiving a reply, Nosty sighed slowly and said, “Goatee guy, you look pretty old—like a miner. Are you a plumber?”
“I’m not a plumber either; I’m still unemployed. I was just a college student before this. I guess I look a bit older than my age; don’t mind it.” Freyr chuckled awkwardly, sensing something strange as he wondered how Nosty could tell he was a Goatee guy and how he looked in such dim light.
“Haha? Alright then, I must have misjudged,” Nosty replied with a laugh.
"Um, I have a question. Can you answer it for me?" Freyr asked tentatively.
"Oh? Go ahead and ask. Even though I know what you're going to ask, I will still respond this way as a matter of basic courtesy," Nosty's voice continued.
"How do you know I have a goatee? It's so dark here that I can't even see what you look like. Did you see me when I came up?" Freyr inquired.
"Hmm? There's no need for that. I'm blind and can't see anything, but I know what you look like. I don't even need to ask about the people here; I already know their backgrounds. It's my special ability. Don't be surprised, because everyone here has that kind of ability."
Nosty's voice remained calm, while the others present grew impatient, clicking their tongues as if disturbed from their sleep, turning over and curling up in the corner to continue sleeping.
"Telepath."
Freyr murmured to himself, a sound only he could understand. At that moment, he suddenly remembered a friend from the past who also had this ability, but they had never communicated much. They only met once at a graduation ceremony, and after graduation, aside from a few classmates, he lost contact with everyone else.
"That's right, that's the term. I'm one of those people you mentioned," Nosty said proudly.
"Can blind people really join the military these days?" Freyr asked curiously.
"Well, to be honest, the unit we joined is Special Forces. In theory, it's a Mobile Unit, but in reality? It's Special Forces disguised as a Mobile Unit." A voice echoed in his mind, words gradually surfacing as if imprinted there.
"Uh, is that even allowed? Isn't it deceptive? That seems quite unfriendly," Freyr pondered.
"You're too naive. What is the military? They confront us newcomers like old wolves confronting defenseless sheep. They might even go all out against us. Moreover, our team exists as an unofficial force authorized by the Noah United Defense Provisional Government."
"What do they want us to do?" Freyr wondered.
"Well, this? It requires imagination. I can predict some things, but I can't analyze everything. Besides, I only had a few seconds of contact with them, and I'm still an incomplete Psychic Sensory User, partially blind, so the information I gather is somewhat incomplete." The gentle voice suddenly turned serious.
Telepaths generally possess two main abilities: precognition and radar.
Among them, controllers have a relatively high initial requirement in terms of brain usage.
However, it cannot be denied that the controller's ability is output; it transforms mental consciousness into a concrete form as an offensive humanoid psychic weapon.
Precognitors are the most common type among Telepaths, but their ability to probe into people's hearts and transmit brainwaves is quite terrifying. Almost no one dares to lie openly without being discovered.
"You all have special abilities for coming here. I have this ability too; why am I unaware of it?" Freyr asked.
"Uh? I can't answer that question. It's strange; I don't see any special shining points on you. In terms of genetic strength, you're almost on par with a field soldier. But regardless, don't deny the judgments and decisions of those people. You are a successful individual; continue with that mindset. Everyone who comes here must have a skill, so even if you don't have one now, that's okay; you will definitely have one in the future."
"Alright, I can't use this ability to communicate with you for much longer. I'm tired now and need to sleep." With that, Nosty's voice suddenly vanished, and the sensation of having one's mind scanned abruptly disappeared.
There was no sound around anymore, as if everything had happened in silence. The snoring of those nearby was louder than thunder; this group of people in the darkness resembled a bunch of homeless individuals, some even emanating a foul odor, yet they managed to sleep huddled together.
Afterward, several new recruits were brought onto the truck. Soon after, the engine roared to life like a frenzied beast. The vehicle moved smoothly along the road as the newcomers glanced around before choosing to huddle in the outer corners and whisper among themselves. Fortunately, the others in the truck were relatively kind and didn't complain about their noise.
The journey was not too bumpy, and the people inside were sound asleep. Freyr kept his eyes half-open in a state between sleeping and waking. This situation provided him with many conveniences; he could recover his energy while also mentally preparing for events that had occurred or were about to happen.
In less than ten minutes, the speed of the truck gradually slowed down. Freya tentatively shifted her body to look outside, wondering if they had arrived. Suddenly, there was a knocking sound between the walls; overlapping noises echoed back and forth against the metal walls, making Eardrum find it hard to adapt.
"What are you sleeping for? You all look like dead pigs! Get off! What’s the difference between you useless babies sucking on pacifiers and toddlers drinking milk?"
After the sound of knocking, a sudden burst of frenzied shouting erupted outside the vehicle, causing a sense of unease in anyone who heard it. Freyr's eyes sparkled with a hint of fervor; he was all too familiar with such nonsense. With a spark igniting in his heart, he swiftly pulled back the curtain and jumped out of the car, standing up respectfully to say, "Reporting in, sir. The reserve troops are here to report."
"Enough, Goatee. Flattery won't work here. Perhaps you should find a bar and use that line to charm some lost souls, but in front of me, just stick to these words: 'Sir, I have something to report,' do you understand?"
At that moment, a burly officer approached, his slick golden hair shining under the light. A scar ran from his forehead down to his nose, and he sported a new mechanical arm—a replacement for a lost limb that could regenerate itself through machinery.
The officer leaned in close to Freyr's face, the heat and breath radiating off him palpable. After a moment of imposing silence, Freyr silently offered a polite military salute.
"If they're still asleep, use the high-pressure water guns to flush them out. Let these lazy pigs and filthy rats crawl out of their filthy holes," the officer barked, turning away from Freyr to shout at his subordinate.
"Yes, sir."
One by one, the people inside the vehicle scrambled out. From their movements, it was clear they had no idea what awaited them. They hurried down at a moderate pace, but just then, several high-pressure water guns were aimed at them from below. Two or three jets of water suddenly shot forth, drenching a young man who had just stepped out.
Cries of anguish filled the vehicle as another officer suddenly burst into laughter. "Hahaha! If they don't come out in three minutes, those who remain can go back. We don't need useless trash here. Crank up the power! Sergeant, I'm very disappointed in you. I want you to shoot them back inside; I don't have the energy or time to deal with these worthless fools. Shoot them back and let them roll away—let's see what kind of idiots they sent us—a bunch of swine and dogs!"
The powerful jets continued to spray relentlessly, and the cries grew intermittent as those who crawled out were soaked through. Some clever individuals managed to find their way back down safely while others stubbornly believed they could withstand the force of the water jets with sheer brute strength. It was clear that underestimating the power of high-pressure water guns was a grave mistake.
These water guns had clearly been modified; their concentrated power at close range could even penetrate brick walls. The human body was far too fragile for such protection; under the onslaught of water jets, even if one managed to hold on for a few seconds, they would ultimately be blasted away.
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