AWB Chapter 70 Hidden Dragons' Feast
Chapter 70 Hidden Dragons' Feast
Early November, special operations training ground of Jinghua Military Region.
Three months of basic military physical training has finally come to an end. On the training ground, one hundred trainees stand in neat rows, awaiting the final assessment results.
Lin Zhe stood at the front of the team, holding the results sheet in his hand. Gao Cheng and Canglang's teammates stood behind him, their expressions serious.
"Three months, one hundred days," Lin Zhe began, his voice echoing across the empty training ground. "From not being able to run five kilometers at the beginning, to now being able to complete a 20-kilometer armed cross-country run in under two hours; from not being able to hold a gun steadily, to now averaging eight rings in 300-meter precision shooting; from not being able to climb the rock climbing wall, to now averaging three minutes for a 25-meter vertical rock climbing run..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the young yet determined faces: "You've made great progress, a lot."
The trainees stood tall, pride shining in their eyes. Yes, they had improved. These three months had been incredibly tough, requiring immense effort and sweat, but the result was a complete transformation.
"But—" Lin Zhe changed the subject, "The Central Military Commission's requirement is to build a new type of special operations force with high education, high technology, and high combat capabilities. Not ordinary special forces soldiers, but all-around warriors similar to 'Hidden Dragon'."
He handed the report card to Gao Cheng: "Now, I'll announce the assessment results. Based on the overall ranking, the top sixty will remain and continue to the next stage of training. The bottom forty..."
He looked at the back of the line: "Eliminated."
The training ground fell silent instantly. Although they were mentally prepared, many people still felt a pang of anxiety when they heard the word "elimination."
Gao Cheng began calling out names. One name after another was called out, and those whose names were called either felt joy, calmness, or disappointment.
Zhao Ming, third place, stays.
Li Wei, ranked seventh, remains.
Wang Hao, ranked twelfth, remains.
Zhang Chen, ranked eighteenth, stays...
When the forty-first name was called, the faces of those behind turned pale. Some clenched their fists, some lowered their heads, and some had tears in their eyes.
But they didn't cry, they didn't make a scene. Three months of intense training had worn away the last trace of their student spirit. They were soldiers, and soldiers accept whatever the outcome.
Forty minutes later, the list was finished being read.
"The above sixty people, stay." Gao Cheng put away the list. "The remaining forty people, pack your bags and return to your original units tomorrow. Your files will contain records of this training, which will be helpful for your future development."
The forty eliminated men silently stepped out of the ranks and lined up. They saluted Lin Zhe, saluted their remaining comrades, and then turned and left.
There were no extra words, but his back view revealed a stubbornness that refused to admit defeat.
Lin Zhe watched the departing figures, his heart unmoved. This was selection—cruel but necessary. He didn't want a large number of people, but rather a select few. How many of the sixty would remain would depend on the next phase of training.
"The rest of you," he said, looking at the sixty faces, "you'll have three days off. Go home, see your parents, take care of personal matters. Three days later, return here to begin the next phase of training—it will be ten times harder, ten times more arduous than this."
"Yes!" the sixty people answered in unison, their voices booming.
After the meeting was dismissed, Lin Zhe returned to his office. He had just sat down when his watch vibrated—Longya had sent a message: "I'm at the entrance of your military region; come out and meet me."
Lin Zhe paused for a moment, then got up and went out.
At the main gate of the military region, Longya, Longzhao, Longying, and Longci stood beside an off-road vehicle, all dressed in civilian clothes. However, their upright posture, characteristic of soldiers, still attracted the vigilant gaze of the sentry.
"What brings you here?" Lin Zhe walked over.
"Looking for advice," Longya grinned. "Your first round of eliminations is over, but ours has only just begun. Let's see how you plan to arrange the next phase of training."
Lin Zhe checked the time; it was already noon. "Let's go eat first. We can talk while we eat."
He sent a message to Long Lin and Long Qing, who were still recovering from their injuries at the base, and then drove the four of them away from the military region.
On the bus, Longzhao looked out at the street scene and sighed, "It's been so long since I've been to downtown Jinghua. The last time was five years ago."
"Don't you guys usually go out for a stroll?" Lin Zhe asked.
"Otherwise what?" Longya leaned back in his chair. "Eighty percent of 'Hidden Dragon's' missions are overseas. We actually spend less time in the country."
The car drove to a high-end hotel in the city center. This was a famous five-star hotel in Beijing, with luxury cars parked in front and people coming and going dressed in fine clothes.
Lin Zhe parked the car, and the five of them got out. Long Lin and Long Qing had already arrived and were waiting for them at the door.
Seven people, all dressed casually, looked like an ordinary young people's gathering. But a closer look revealed the difference—their posture was too straight, their eyes too sharp, and their movements too coordinated. Like seven swords sheathed, seemingly ordinary, yet concealing their sharpness.
"Let's go, the private room is booked," Lin Zhe said.
The seven people entered the hotel lobby. The marble floor gleamed, the crystal chandeliers were dazzling, and a faint scent of perfume filled the air.
The receptionist paused for a moment when she saw the seven people. Their clothes weren't high-end—ordinary shirts, jackets, and jeans—but their aura... indescribable, was something that commanded respect.
"Sir, do you have a reservation?" the waiter asked politely.
"Mr. Lin, room 301," Lin Zhe said.
"Okay, please follow me."
The waiter led the seven people through the lobby toward the elevator. Along the way, many guests cast curious glances—these seven people were quite special. They weren't celebrities, nor were they rich kids, but they possessed an inexplicable aura.
In the elevator, Long Qing took off her sunglasses, revealing a delicate but aloof face. Today, she wore a simple white shirt, black trousers, and her long hair was tied in a ponytail, looking neat and tidy.
"Long Qing, if you were to go on a covert mission dressed like that, no one would suspect a thing," Long Ya joked.
Long Qing glanced at him: "You too. Dressed like that, you look like a street thug."
"I was originally a hoodlum," Longya grinned. "If the country hadn't recruited me into 'Hidden Dragon,' I don't know where I'd be squatting now."
The others smiled too. They had all been selected and trained by the country from a young age, and although they were now top-notch special forces soldiers, their backgrounds were quite different—some were orphans, some were rural children, and some were children of workers. The country had given them a new life and the opportunity to serve the country.
The private room was on the third floor of the hotel; it was spacious and luxuriously decorated. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the dazzling nightscape of downtown Beijing.
The seven people sat down, and the waiter handed them the menu.
"You guys order, it's on me." Lin Zhe pushed the menu towards Long Ya.
Longya didn't stand on ceremony, flipping through the menu: "This, this, and this... never mind, I don't understand. Lin Zhe, you order whatever you like, we're not picky eaters anyway."
Lin Zhe smiled, took the menu, and ordered a table full of dishes. They were all hearty dishes, with generous portions, suitable for people like them who consume a lot of energy.
While waiting for their food, the group chatted casually. They didn't talk about missions or the military, but rather about lighthearted topics.
Dragon Claw said that during his last mission in Africa, he encountered a tribe whose chief insisted on marrying his daughter to him.
Long Ying said that last year in Europe, in order to get closer to his goal, he had to learn the violin for three months, and now he can actually play the complete "Butterfly Lovers".
The Spurs said he hates the weather in the Middle East the most, because it's either unbearably hot or has sandstorms.
Dragonscale showed off the scar on his shoulder, saying it was a "souvenir" from the mission.
Long Qing spoke the least, but when she occasionally chimed in, her words always hit the nail on the head.
Lin Zhe listened, smiled, and felt a warmth in his heart. These were comrades-in-arms, brothers to whom one could entrust one's life. Outside, they were the "Hidden Dragons" who struck fear into the hearts of their enemies; here, they were just a group of ordinary young people who laughed, joked, and teased each other.
The dishes were served quickly. The seven of them devoured them in no time. They all had a military style, never dawdling over their food.
While we were eating, the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open.
Two flashy young men stood at the door, clearly from wealthy families. One had dyed blond hair and wore a tight leather jacket; the other had slicked-back hair and wore an expensive suit.
The two were clearly drunk; their faces were flushed and their eyes were glazed.
"Huh? Wrong place?" the blond-haired guy muttered, glancing at the door number. "301... Wait a minute, didn't Young Master Wang say it was 301?"
The slick-haired man squinted at the private room: "Don't know him. Let's go find Young Master Wang."
The two turned to leave, but Huang Mao suddenly stopped—he saw Long Qing sitting near the door.
Although Long Qing was dressed simply today, her aloof and cool demeanor was particularly striking under the lights. She was eating with her head down, her profile clean and sharp, her ponytail hanging over her shoulder, with a few stray hairs clinging to her fair neck.
The blond-haired man's eyes lit up, and he swaggered back: "Beautiful lady, all alone?"
Long Qing ignored him and continued eating.
The slick-haired man also saw Long Qing and whistled, "Oh, a real ice queen. Want to be friends?"
The two completely ignored the other six people in the private room. In their eyes, the six men were dressed plainly and didn't seem to have any connections. Moreover, they were all focused on eating, probably because they were afraid of trouble.
Long Qing put down her chopsticks and looked up at the two of them. Her gaze was calm, but beneath that calm was a chilling coldness.
The blond-haired man was taken aback by that look, sobering up a bit. But emboldened by the alcohol, he still reached out to pat Long Qing's shoulder: "Don't be so cold, bro, I'll buy you a drink..."
Before her hand could even touch Long Qing, it was grabbed by another hand.
Lin Zhe had somehow appeared beside Long Qing and grabbed Huang Mao's wrist. His movements were slow, but Huang Mao felt as if his wrist was being clamped in an iron clamp, unable to move at all.
"Let go!" The blond-haired man winced in pain.
Seeing this, the slick-haired man wanted to step forward to help. But he stopped after taking just one step—because the other five people had already stood up at some point.
Dragon teeth, dragon claws, dragon shadows, dragon spikes, dragon scales—five people, five pairs of eyes, coldly staring at him.
There was no murderous intent, no anger, just a calm gaze, like looking at a dead object.
A cold sweat instantly broke out on the slick-haired man's back. He was a regular in the underworld and had seen ruthless people, but he had never seen anyone this ruthless—these people looked at him as if he were a stone or a piece of wood, completely disregarding his humanity.
"I'm...sorry, we've got the wrong room." The slick-haired man pulled the blond-haired man along. "Let's go."
The blond-haired man wanted to say something, but seeing those five pairs of eyes, he swallowed his words. The two of them awkwardly left the private room, not even closing the door.
Long Qing picked up her chopsticks again, as if nothing had happened.
Longya sat down, grinning, "Long Qing, you're still as attractive as ever."
Long Qing glanced at him and said, "Shut up."
Lin Zhe also sat back down and said to the waiter, "Close the door."
The waiter then came to his senses, quickly closed the door, and retreated with lingering fear.
The private room fell silent again.
Dragon Claw took a sip of water: "Two small-time thugs, not worth mentioning."
"But it also reminds us," Long Ying pushed up his glasses, "We still need to keep a low profile when we're out in public. If those two had really made a move, someone might have died if we had intervened."
"Yes," Dragon Thorn nodded, "An ordinary person couldn't withstand a single blow from us."
Lin Zhe looked at them, feeling a sense of感慨 (gan3kai3, deep emotion). This was the "Hidden Dragon" team—they could live like ordinary people in normal times, but once provoked, they were like unsheathed blades, deadly and deadly.
"Keep eating," he said. "After you finish, we can talk about the next phase of the training plan."
The seven people picked up their chopsticks again, as if the little incident had never happened.
Outside the window, the night view of Beijing is bustling and dazzling.
Inside the window, seven people who guard this prosperity are eating quietly.
They are shadows, sharp blades, and the nation's strongest shield.
For them, such nights are a rare moment of relaxation and warmth.
After finishing their meal, they will return to their respective posts to continue protecting the country and the peace of this land.
This was their choice, a choice they would never regret.