Zerg: I ​​was picked up by the cold and beautiful Major General at the start of the game.

The training room was filled with the smell of sweat, the lights were stark white, and several female soldiers who had just finished training lay on the floor, creating a tense atmosphere.

"Jason... he didn't have to die!" A young female soldier slammed her fist on the equipment beside her, the metal making a dull thud.

His eyes were red-rimmed, and his voice was hoarse with anger and grief. "It's the same thing again! One order from Terman, and we're thrown out like sandbags to draw fire! All he cares about are victory reports; he has no regard for the worthless lives of us insects!"

"Karl, calm down!" A slightly older, tired-looking female soldier pressed down on his shoulder.

"Commander... he's taking a strategic view, and his decisions naturally have their reasons. Don't judge the correctness of his command based on our own experience. Besides, how can there be no sacrifices on the battlefield?"

"Considerations? The big picture?" Karl abruptly shook off his hand, his voice rising in sarcasm.

"His overall achievements are his medals! And what about us? What do we get? Besides that cold, hard pension, what else do we have!"

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke: "Telman holds a high position and comes from a prestigious family. Since becoming the commander of our fleet, when has he ever personally led an attack? When has he ever not been steadily holding the line in the rear, protected by layers of female officers? Of course he can talk about the 'overall situation' and 'sacrifice'!"

"Look at the Second Fleet, they have the loudest recruitment campaigns every year. Why? It's because we have the highest casualty rate here!"

"Those numbers, those names, those cold bones—all of them piled up into Terman's gleaming medals!"

"But you can't deny that the Second Fleet's victory rate is indeed among the top of the nine fleets!" the older female officer said sternly.

"Yes! I admit it! But I'd rather the win rate wasn't so high. This high win rate only made Terman famous; it couldn't save my brother Jason's life!"

Carl's voice choked with emotion as he spoke, and tears welled in his eyes.

The older female soldier watched Karl's breakdown, her lips moved, but she ultimately just turned her head away in despair. She remained silent for a moment, her voice hoarse:

"...It's fine to say it here, but once we step out of this door...we'll keep these words to ourselves."

Only heavy breathing remained in the training room...

--------

The medical equipment emitted a regular, cold ticking sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet room.

Dr. Parks stared at the fluctuating data curves on the mental sea monitoring screen, his brow furrowed.

Lin Luo stood quietly to the side, but her gaze remained fixed on Ailand's peaceful sleeping face.

After a long silence, Parks sighed softly and turned off the equipment.

He turned to face Lin Luo, his tone heavy:

"...Lord Lin Luo, the results...are consistent with the final diagnosis of the Imperial Medical Department. The Major General's mental state remains dormant, and for the time being...there are no signs of recovery."

Lin Luo remained calm; he had anticipated this outcome. He stepped forward and gently brushed a stray hair from Ailand's forehead, his movements soft, yet his voice was unusually firm:

"It's okay, this is only temporary. I believe in him, he will get better."

Parks watched Lin Luo's retreating figure, his lips moved, but he ultimately swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

He had always been very confident that Lord Linlu could cure Ailand, after all, Lord Linlu was so special, and Ailand was able to save his life entirely thanks to Lord Linlu's blood.

Three months have passed, and no matter how hard Lord Lin Luo tries, his shattered spiritual sea remains lifeless, showing no signs of improvement. He is beginning to doubt his initial guess...

"In the time to come," Lin Luo's voice broke the silence. He turned around, his eyes clear.

"I'm counting on you, Doctor. Please conduct 'experimental treatments' on Ailand as many times as possible and record as much data as possible. If any bugs ask about it, please cover it up."

"Rest assured, Your Excellency, I am fully prepared," Parks replied.

"The room that used to store various equipment has been converted into a medical room. If you need any additional equipment, just give me a list."

He paused for a moment, then added, "In addition, I have also prepared a guest room. If I study too late or feel too tired, I can stay and rest at any time without having to travel back and forth."

Parks paused for a moment, then nodded solemnly: "Yes, sir, I understand."

He considered it carefully, "So, I'll come in for 'treatment' two to three times a week from now on. Do you think that frequency is appropriate?"

"Sure," Lin Luo nodded. "You're a professional, so just arrange everything according to your pace."

"Very well, sir, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave now."

"Well, goodbye, Doctor."

Parks said no more. He pushed the testing equipment back to the newly arranged medical room, then left the mansion quietly, deep in thought.

-----

Lin Luo sat down at the desk, picked up the electronic screen and stylus, took a deep breath, and began to sketch something.

The pen tip glided smoothly across the screen, making a soft rustling sound that temporarily calmed his chaotic thoughts.

Looking back, this painting skill has a history of "blood and tears".

Thinking of her childhood, Lin Luo couldn't help but smile.

Back then, he was a complete "troublemaker," hated by everyone, and incredibly energetic.

She's either climbing trees to steal bird nests and falling and getting covered in mud, or she's curiously taking apart household appliances and not being able to put them back together. Every day she plays "guerrilla warfare" with the nanny she hires. With her small size and agility, she has excellent hiding skills and keeps the whole family in a state of chaos.

Not only that, he also liked to torment other children his age. His parents' daily routine was either to drag him to the neighbor's house to apologize one day, or to take gifts to the neighbor's house to pay compensation the next day. They were always very angry with him.

The older brother always complains about him, and the two little ones often fight, never having a moment of peace.

Later, his mother heard from somewhere that painting could cultivate one's character and calm the mind.

Worried that learning traditional Chinese painting or oil painting was too difficult for a child and that he might not have the patience, I opted for a comics class instead.

Thus, his "happy childhood" came to an abrupt end.

He was sent to a comics studio and forced to sit in front of a drawing board, beginning his "long" drawing career.

It was there that he met a fellow sufferer who shared his plight.

His "fellow sufferer" mysteriously shared a comic book with him. The protagonist in the book was powerful, aloof, taciturn, and had a disdainful look in his eyes. He always had the cool demeanor of someone who wouldn't flinch even if Mount Tai collapsed in front of him.

This struck a chord with my young self at the time! I felt that this was the demeanor a "real man" should have!

So, from that day on, he began to deliberately imitate the behavioral norms of that comic book protagonist:

If they can avoid speaking, they will never open their mouths; if they can express contempt with their eyes, they will never make any expression; and they will resolutely stop using crying and making a scene to achieve their goals.

He firmly believes that silence is the ultimate form of coolness!

As a result, a wonderful misunderstanding was born.

His mother was overjoyed to see her son transformed from a mischievous boy into a "composed" young man, and she cried tears of joy, exclaiming that the art class had an immediate and remarkable effect!

So, this "meritorious" comic course was continued to be enrolled in.

Later, even after the original comic book studio closed down, his mother went to the trouble of hiring a private tutor to continue his education...

Looking back on this past, it's truly both laughable and absurd.

However, as Lin Luo watched the gradually clearer, cold silhouette of Ailand on the screen, his eyes softened.

He never imagined that his experience of being "forced" to learn a skill back then would come in handy by some twist of fate.