Darkstone Code-Chapter 986 - 984: Powering Up the Machines

When the news of Darkstone Security’s expansion was first spread, many security agencies and army units began personnel adjustments.

Perhaps some people think "Darkstone Security is a prestigious military academy" is just a joke, but the officers in the Ministry of Defense, wearing summer uniforms, enjoying air conditioning, drinking coffee, and tidying their hair in the mirror, suddenly realized, why not?

The "World Security Assessment Report" submitted by the Strategic Command pointed out that in the next six years, there will be no large-scale wars affecting multiple countries worldwide.

Because during this period, various countries have only completed reconstruction work, and they still need to accumulate a few years of strength before they are qualified to launch a new round of wars.

This also means that there is no opportunity for military training in the short term.

Military training is very important.

After opening up their minds, the Ministry of Defense is not idle all day; they are also conducting simulations and reflecting on what it means to have missed the opportunity to participate in the last world war.

It means that eighty percent of the countries in the world have already undergone the test of war. Whether they ultimately succeeded or failed, at least they gained experience.

But the Federation did not, which could be a terrible problem. If the soldiers cannot withstand the pressure, it could very likely trigger a chain reaction.

This is like those "amusing incidents" that happened in this world war; the collapse of front-line soldiers could directly incite fear among the soldiers in the rear.

If someone in the front can hold on and withstand the pressure, the soldiers preparing to go to the front line in the rear can perform more heroically than usual.

The Federation urgently needs soldiers and commanders who have experienced war.

Theorizing is always just theorizing. In naval simulation exercises, the Federation Navy could even defeat the Gafura navy head-on. If submarines had made contributions, the Federation would have had no role now.

Some mid-level officers with potential suddenly processed their discharge papers, and some elite soldiers from units also retired. Each of them received a recommendation letter from the Ministry of Defense upon discharge.

"Is this what they call a ’ticket’?" After resting for two days, Ryan, a soldier who just returned home from the Navy Assault Team, took his introduction letter and, along with fellow soldiers, headed to the Darkstone Security Training Camp.

The gatekeeper asked him to show his introduction letter, which he held in his hand, his tone filled with mockery, "My superior told me you have good food here."

Ryan was a hothead in the Marine Corps, with great skills and top training results in all areas.

In this era without war, training results represent a person’s military capability.

This might not truly reflect someone’s military qualities, but it’s an inevitable situation.

His excellent ability led to some dissatisfaction with his new "assignment." In his view, being placed in Darkstone Security was a waste of his talent.

He believed he should be joining overseas field units, performing tasks worldwide, not working at Darkstone Security, even though the salary here was quite good.

The gatekeeper glanced at him sidelong, showing no expression, his face stiff and rigid like it was carved.

After checking the introduction letter, the gatekeeper tore a corner off it and handed it back along with an ID tag, "You can go in now."

He didn’t respond to Ryan’s provocation; it was meaningless. He himself had come from the military and understood how difficult it was to deal with people who had good military achievements, but that was okay.

No matter how difficult someone is, they become more manageable at Darkstone Security.

This is not the Federation Army, which still has strict regulations and retains certain rules; this is a private enterprise, and the military’s ways don’t quite work here.

Ryan shrugged off the gatekeeper’s refusal to engage with his provocation and, carrying his backpack, walked into the training ground.

Looking at the familiar equipment, he didn’t feel the slightest bit of nervousness; he was already very skilled with these things, and he could say that ninety percent of the people here didn’t handle them as well as he did.

After entering the camp, someone greeted him, assigned him a tent after looking at his tag, where some people already lived.

Everyone gave limited welcoming gestures to Ryan’s arrival; they merely glanced at him before withdrawing their attention.

Everyone was doing their own things; after they tidied up their bunks, they went out to adjust to the surroundings.

Here, it was still somewhat unfamiliar to them.

At noon, no one called them for meals, causing some unrest. Ryan and his former comrades also felt strange but considered it might be a form of hazing.

Such traditions exist in the military, harassing new recruits. Sometimes they play pranks, which can be quite nasty, and new recruits must endure silently.

Those who rebel against it usually don’t have good outcomes. This kind of hazing is practically a lesson for rookies to understand who is in charge in the military (superiors).

It’s just one missed meal, everyone can endure it. By evening, there finally was a dinner call, but when Ryan and the others reached the cafeteria, their dinner made them reveal disgusted expressions.

"Lord, what is all this...?" Ryan’s comrade stood in front of the food truck, eyes practically bulging out.

He prodded the food in the truck with his fingers, the sticky blood remaining on his fingers.

"Where’s the cook? Did they forget to turn on the heat while preparing dinner? It’s all raw!"

Indeed, the food truck was full of piles of blood and flesh from animals they couldn’t identify; none of it was cooked, all raw, cut into one-centimeter thick slices like steaks.

Blood dripped from the bottom of the cart, the stench so overwhelming it made those nearby take a few steps back.

The weather is so hot that after just a short time, there seems to be a strange smell.

"Is anyone there? Is there anyone? Damn it, someone tell us what’s going on?"

Some people started to make a fuss. Hungry all day, and given only this at night, no one could adapt.

At this moment, the sound of marching boots came from outside, followed by the command "Attention," and everyone instinctively stood up straight, facing the entrance of the dining hall.

Then, a man who looked about thirty-six or seven walked in, "You can call me by my name... or call me Major. I will be your commanding officer. I just heard someone making a commotion. Who will tell me what you were fussing about?"

To become a Major in his thirties, this guy must have an incredible background. The new recruits in the dining hall were upset but did not show it because they knew what the military was like and that rank meant everything.

No one made a sound, and it seemed like the Major wasn’t planning to let them off. As the standoff continued, Ryan stepped forward, "Report, sir, we are discussing how to handle dinner."

The Major looked at him for a moment, "What’s your name?"

"Ryan, sir."

"Very well, Ryan. We have now entered enemy territory teeming with enemy outposts. We are at a disadvantage in manpower, and we need to complete a formidable task — to stay hidden or traverse enemy territory without being detected."

"Tell me, how will you handle the dinner situation?"

Ryan answered without hesitation, "I can bring more food, sir!"

"The food you brought is gone."

"I can eat fruits and some plant leaves, sir!"

"There are some poisonous plants around you, and you don’t know how to identify them."

"I Can..."

Before Ryan could finish, the Major raised his hand to stop him, then turned to his adjutant, "Same question, how would you handle it?"

The adjutant turned and walked to the serving cart, picked a piece of slightly dried raw meat, sliced it with a dagger from his side, and swallowed it.

"I would eat this meat, sir!"

The Major nodded in satisfaction. "Very well..." he said as he looked at the others, "this is your dinner: raw meat. You may choose not to eat it, but we have a twenty-kilometer full load cross-country tomorrow morning. I hope you have the strength."

"If anyone falls behind and cannot keep up, you can genuinely retire!"

"Now, dismissed..."

After the officers left, those in the dining hall stared blankly at the raw meat on the cart, and some gagged. In an age where even steaks need to be well-done, who the hell likes raw meat? 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

On the first day, Ryan endured it with diarrhea and vomiting.

By eight o’clock the next morning, Ryan, a bit weary, arrived at the field. The full load cross-country was up next, and what made his scalp tingle was that he had ten pounds more load than the others.

He looked at the officers, clenched his fists, and spoke up, "Report, sir."

The Major looked at him, gesturing for him to continue.

"Why do I have ten pounds more load than the others, sir?!"

Even a troublemaker has his advantages. Despite facing his superior, he dared to confront him to figure out why he was being treated differently.

If they were really trying to use him to set an example, or had issues with him, he didn’t care whether or not he stayed.

Looking at Ryan’s defiant face, the Major’s answer surprised everyone—

"Yesterday you said you brought more food. Now I’m giving you this opportunity. The extra ten pounds is the food you supposedly brought. Is there a problem?"

Three to five seconds later, Ryan shouted back, "No, sir!"

The Major nodded, "Very good. Anyone else have questions?"

No one spoke up.

"I must remind you, we are now in enemy territory, and all actions that could expose us are inadvisable."

"You may think I’m giving you trouble, but in reality, this is a real case we encountered in Amelia. We were surrounded by anti-government forces. If we were exposed, we would be overwhelmed by countless enemies and then eliminated."

"I need to be responsible for your future. I’d rather have you washed out here than see you die on the battlefield."

"This isn’t an exercise on a military base, or military training. We will soon embark on a live ammunition mission abroad. Each of you could die there, including me."

"The only thing I can do now is to give you as many chances to survive as possible, to equip you with more self-rescue skills and abilities."

After finishing his speech, the Major’s gaze lingered on each soldier’s face for a moment, "Move out!"