Police officer Chen Shu

Chapter 706, Section 712: Extra Chapter: Zhu Yiba's Past (Part 8)

"Platoon leader, let's chat for a bit."

Suddenly, Zhu Yiba's vision went dark as a huge figure blocked his way. Looking up, he saw the chubby soldier standing in front of him with a big smile: "Why aren't you sleeping at night? What are you doing here?"

"Ugh, all I do every day is train, patrol, sleep, and eat. It's so boring." Little Fatty patted his butt and sat down next to Zhu Yiba without any politeness.

Zhu Yiba was preoccupied and didn't pay any attention to the chubby boy.

However, Little Fatty was quite outgoing. Before the platoon leader could speak, he chimed in: "Platoon leader, what do you special operations platoon do? Is it like the special forces in the movies? Wearing sunglasses, swaggering out of the mountains, and taking out those unruly guys with a few quick snips?"

For Zhu Yiba, his combat experience with the special operations platoon was a source of immense pride. At any other time, if Xiao Pang had asked him this, Zhu Yiba might have genuinely discussed non-classified operations with his young comrade. But now, it sounded rather dull.

"Hmm, I think it should be even more impressive than in the movies!" Little Fatty wasn't discouraged when the platoon leader didn't say anything. He muttered a few words to himself to ease the awkwardness, "Platoon leader, how do you guys usually train? Your gear looks way cooler than ours."

Zhu Yiba said irritably, "Looks handsome, huh? I can see your great-grandmother when you're practicing!"

"..." The chubby boy looked expectant.

Zhu Yiba couldn't bear it. He remembered the funny story of how the class monitor forced Xiao Pang to eat steamed bun skins. With a sigh of relief, he spoke up: "Do you remember when the class monitor scooped steamed bun skins out of the swill bucket for you to eat?"

Little Fatty wore a bitter face, as if he had eaten poop: "Ugh, I'll never forget this in my life."

Zhu Yiba said slowly, "You can't forget that? Back then, we squatted in the outhouse eating steamed buns, two for each of us. Tsk tsk, swarms of flies were buzzing around. Wolf Head felt it wasn't quite right, so he put on a gas mask, took a stick and stirred the excrement in the pit, making us adjust the flavor and eat it with it. We weren't allowed to come out until we finished it."

"And flies."

"Hey, we were so hungry back then, we considered it an extra meal if a fly swarmed around us."

The chubby boy's face turned pale, and a million alpacas were stampeding through his mind: "Platoon leader, I'm suddenly not so envious of your special operations platoon anymore."

After a pause, the chubby boy asked again, "Don't you ever have a relaxing time?"

Zhu Yiba patted the little fat man on the shoulder and said meaningfully, "The only day of relaxation was yesterday."

Little Fatty frowned: "Platoon leader, it's not that I'm being sarcastic, it's just that I think your training methods are really unreasonable. Tell me, who would eat shit these days? Even dogs wouldn't!"

Zhu Yiba glanced at the chubby boy with shiny grease and said calmly, "In the army, there's no point in talking about what's reasonable or unreasonable. War is not a competition, nor is it training; it's all about life and death."

Little Fatty murmured, "A warrior from hell."

Admittedly, Zhu Yiba found it somewhat pleasing; he hadn't expected the chubby boy to be so skilled at flattery. This subtle, pervasive effect greatly eased Zhu Yiba's initially bad mood.

Little Fatty asked again, "Platoon leader, what does it feel like to kill someone? I've been a soldier for several years, and I've never killed anyone before."

In an instant, Zhu Yiba fell silent.

After a while, Little Fatty came over with a big smile again: "Platoon leader, tell me about it."

Zhu Yiba, who was in a bad mood, was stirred up by Xiao Pang's actions and began to talk to someone. He said, "I can't remember what it felt like to kill someone for the first time. In the past few years, I've never thought about it. I just fired the gun. After returning to camp, I ate and slept as usual. I didn't think about it much."

Little Fatty was a bit discouraged, feeling that there was nothing exciting to be found.

Zhu Yiba paused for a moment, then continued, "They are bandits, and we are soldiers. It is only natural for soldiers to kill bandits, especially since the bandits we killed were bandits who deserved to die a thousand times over."

Little Fatty suddenly became interested: "Platoon leader, can you tell me what kind of bandits you killed?"

Zhu Yiba tilted his head slightly, recalled for a moment, and then calmly said, "Mainly poison trafficking and gun smuggling, and some brain-dead anti-K, that's about it. But speaking of which, knives like ours have to be the most cold-blooded and the least emotional."

"The mission is the priority!"

At this point, Zhu Yiba became somewhat lost in thought, recalling the station chief and squad leader who had dedicated their youth to this border post far from any town. Their philosophy seemed to be that the lives of the soldiers were the bottom line, and only then could the mission be completed.

"A mission?" Little Fatty murmured, then his eyes lit up and he suddenly asked, "Platoon leader, you must have earned a lot of medals, right? Can I see them?"

"You want to see?"

The chubby boy nodded frantically, almost drooling.

Zhu Yiba tossed a key over: "It's in the cabinet, go get it yourself."

Little Fatty's bottom bounced up, and he shot out like a small whirlwind at a speed that was completely beyond what a fat person could achieve.

After a short while, the little whirlwind returned.

Little Fatty, panting, ran over, clutching a small tin box in his arms. He plopped down next to Zhu Yiba, wiped the sweat from his brow, and then began to happily play with the medals in his hands, repeatedly rubbing their surface, feeling their weight and luster. His eyes sparkled with joy and envy.

Zhu Yiba suddenly felt much better and generously said, "Pick one, it's yours."

Little Fatty looked down at the medals in his hand one by one, shaking his chubby head and saying happily, "Thanks, Platoon Leader. I just want to see what they look like. These things are meaningless if I didn't get them myself."

Zhu Yiba agreed with his point of view: without the honor it represents and the effort its owner has put in, a medal is just a thin piece of iron and worthless.

Watching the chubby boy repeatedly changing the medals and gesturing them on his left chest, fiddling with them for a long time, like an emperor choosing his concubines, selecting only the beauties he liked.

"Platoon leader, which medal do you like the most?" Little Fatty asked casually, head down.

"Extreme Warrior," Zhu Yiba replied without hesitation.

"The Devil Week one?" Little Fatty pulled out a red and blue medal from the box and asked in confusion, "I heard that you get this as long as you participate in the training, right? There are four times a year, which is quite a lot. It's considered a relatively easy medal to get. Hey, how come you only have this one?"

"This is the one I received when I first joined the brigade. I felt like I was completely transformed after participating in the Hell Week."

"Tsk tsk, it feels like cultivating immortality. Such a cruel project, platoon leader, how did you all manage to persevere?"

"When training any sport, don't listen to the squad leader's nonsense about giving it your all and pushing your limits. Always save some energy for yourself."

"Why? Do we need to conserve our energy for eating and sleeping at night?"

"Stay. Because you never know when it will end, there's always another one."

"That's outrageous! Achieving sainthood in the physical body? This is incredible!"

"Back then, I had three wishes: to have enough to eat, to get enough sleep, and finally, to take a hot bath."

"You can't even get enough to eat?" Little Fatty looked up suddenly in surprise, this was his bottom line.

"I was starving. You've never experienced the feeling of five or six people crammed into a toilet in the middle of the night to share a steamed bun. It was incredibly unpleasant. The worst part is that they even played 'A Bite of China.' Is that something a human being would do?"

Little Fatty dropped "Extreme Warrior" as if he'd been electrocuted and started playing with the other medals. Finally, he settled on one.

Surprisingly, it was just an ordinary third-class merit medal.

Zhu Yiba laughed: "Did you get overwhelmed by the choices? Why did you pick this one?"

Little Fatty turned around and gave a simple, honest smile: "Platoon leader, this is good, it suits me well."

Zhu Yiba suggested, "Shall we take a picture?"

Little Fatty hesitated; in his value system, this kind of thing was really not acceptable.

Zhu Yiba added, "I believe you'll definitely get the Third-Class Merit Citation eventually; it's just a matter of time. Take a few photos now to gain experience, and when you finally get it, taking photos will be a breeze, and every single one of them will be incredibly handsome!"

Little Fatty thought for a moment, looking a little shy, and then agreed, "Okay."

Zhu Yiba took out his phone, and for some reason suddenly remembered the class monitor's distress. As he pointed the camera at the chubby boy with a huge belly, he casually asked, "Which girl is so lucky?"

Little Fatty grinned: "Platoon leader, I just sent it to my mom and my sister."

Zhu Yiba quietly watched his young soldiers happily texting their families, and suddenly felt a sense of peace and reassurance in the scene.

After Little Fatty finished his work, Zhu Yiba pointed to the iron box full of medals and said, "Don't think these things are so great. I believe you will have them in the future."

Little Fatty carefully placed the Third-Class Merit Medal into the iron box and said with a smile, "Platoon Leader, our squad leader once told us that if a person wants to have something he has never had before, then he must do something he has never done before."

Zhu Yiba muttered these words to himself, finding them somewhat interesting.

Just then, Huang Mao ran over. He saw the shiny phone screen from afar and knew that it must be the carefree chubby guy fiddling with the phone, so he thought he'd come over and tag along.

Upon running closer, he saw the platoon leader was also there. The blond-haired man was immediately startled and stammered, "Platoon leader, you're here too."

"You guys should play less. If the instructor sees this, he'll nag you about having too many cell phones." Zhu Yiba stood up, waved, and left.

My mood improved a lot immediately.

(End of this chapter)