I enlisted four times! My former unit blacklisted me.

"Brother Qiang!" Zhao Yihang noticed he was slowing down and quickly grabbed his arm. "Don't let up! Hold on!"

"My...my legs...really...really can't go on..." Hao Qiang gasped for breath, his face as white as a sheet. "You...you run...don't worry about me..."

"How could I abandon you!" Qian Kun chimed in, grabbing his other arm. "We're in the same class! We run together, we die together!"

"Yes! Hang in there, Qiang-ge!!" Ma Teng also slowed down and reached out to push his back.

"Don't stop! If you stop, you won't be able to run!" Sun Dawei went directly behind him, using his shoulder to push against his back. "I'll push you!"

Then, a scene unfolded on the playground that left everyone speechless.

Hao Qiang, a renowned speedster in the Third Regiment, was dragged and pushed along by four first-year soldiers.

His hands were placed on his shoulders by Zhao Yihang and Qian Kun, the two of them supporting his arms from both sides.

Ma Teng supported his back from behind, while Sun Dawei carried his backpack from behind.

The four men pushed Hao Qiang forward like a truck that had run out of gas.

Wu Hanfeng led the way, occasionally turning back to shout, "Go for it, Hao Qiang! You're the fattest!"

"Wu Hanfeng... I... if I die here today... I will haunt you even as a ghost..." Hao Qiang squeezed out these words through clenched teeth, his voice so soft that only he could hear them.

He felt that his dignity had been shattered into pieces, beyond repair.

He's incredibly fast!

He's the fastest in the five-kilometer race!

He's Hao Qiang, whom the whole team gives a thumbs up to!

Now he's being carried around by four first-year soldiers!

If this gets back to the troupe, how will he ever have the face to live again?

Zhao Yihang turned his head and smiled brightly at him: "Brother Qiang, don't overthink it! We're in the same class, helping each other is only natural!"

"I...I didn't think much...I just...wanted to die..."

"If you want to die, you'll have to wait until you finish the run!" Qian Kun said with a grin.

Hao Qiang felt he had reached his limit.

His consciousness began to blur, and the strength in his legs gradually disappeared.

He felt like a fish that had been dragged ashore, unable to get back into the water no matter how much it struggled.

The finish line for the 10-kilometer race is just 50 meters ahead.

Qin Gang, along with four company commanders and a group of squad leaders, stood in a row by the track.

They wanted to watch these six guys cross the finish line with their own eyes, and then tell them in a condescending manner: the top class is nothing special, panting like this after only ten kilometers, there's still a long way to go.

Although in their view, Wu Hanfeng and his six teammates running ten kilometers with weights had already proven that they were indeed very impressive.

But they can't admit it!

"The...end...has it arrived? I...I didn't see...a...line..." Hao Qiang barely raised his head, looked around, his eyes unfocused.

"Not there yet." Zhao Yihang helped him up. "Brother Feng said we haven't arrived yet."

Hao Qiang: "???"

He clearly saw Liu Zhen and several squad leaders less than ten meters ahead.

"Isn't that...the finish line?" Hao Qiang pointed ahead, his voice trembling.

"That's the end for the regular class," Qian Kun chuckled. "For our elite class, it's the starting point."

"??????"

Hao Qiang was completely disillusioned with life.

isn't it?

Guys, what happened to the promised 10 kilometers?

They've already finished running!

What else do you want to do?

Wu Hanfeng didn't stop walking and shouted:

"Captain, thank you for giving us the opportunity to form a separate class!"

"Our elite class has just been established, and we don't have much to offer as a welcoming gift. How about this—we'll give you a tour as a token of our respect!"

Zhao Yihang and his three companions grinned, dragged Hao Qiang along, and followed after them, howling.

"..."

Qin Gang thought he had misheard.

Not only did he mishear, but all the team leaders and squad leaders standing by the finish line were completely dumbfounded.

What the heck?

Send them around?

Do you think this is like buying a jianbing guozi (Chinese crepe) on the street and adding an egg?

One lap?

One lap is 400 meters!

You've already run ten kilometers, why are you rushing to do an extra lap?

Liu Zhen was the first to react, pointing at the figures on the track that were accelerating again: "Holy crap! They really ran!"

Cao Meng's eyes widened: "This...this guy's brain is oxygen-deprived! What kind of student does extra training after running ten kilometers? This has never happened here, never!"

Du Hong and Han Song looked at each other in bewilderment.

They weren't involved in last night's inspection, but judging from the state of these six people, they vaguely sensed something was wrong.

Qin Gang's face was ashen, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

Upon closer inspection, his lips were trembling slightly.

I was sleepy and angry at the same time.

He wrote a self-criticism all night, and rushed to morning exercises at dawn. He's only keeping going with his last breath.

If it weren't for the menacing scar on his face, anyone would have noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

"Good...good enough." Qin Gang took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the anger rising in his chest. "Let them run! Let's see how many laps they can manage!"

Liu Zhen gritted his teeth: "Damn it, last night when I was writing my self-criticism, I was thinking of training him to death today... Now look what's happened, we haven't even started, and he's already training himself to death. What kind of madman is this?"

Qin Gang's temples throbbed as he heard the muttering.

Wasn't he thinking the same thing?

Last night, Wu Hanfeng had him in a bad position, and he held his anger in until the wee hours of the morning, his mind racing with thoughts of how he could vent his frustration on the training field the next day.

He had a lot of ideas—

They trained Wu Hanfeng's physical fitness until his legs were weak.

He practiced Wu Hanfeng's techniques until his hands trembled.

They trained Wu Hanfeng's willpower until he begged for mercy.

But who would have thought that before dawn, this guy, along with his four soldiers and the unlucky Hao Qiang, would have a snack for themselves on the training field.

They started "giving laps" right after I finished the 10km run.

This is hardly a chance for them to get revenge.

This is clearly a slap in their face!

Aren't you guys trying to train us to death?

We'll practice right under your noses and see what other tricks you can come up with!

Qin Gang's face turned pale as he thought of this.

On the track, the sun gradually climbed higher.

Wu Hanfeng ran at the front of the group, his steps still steady, but his forehead was covered with beads of sweat, his collar was wet, and the straps of his backpack were digging deep into his shoulders.

His breathing remained rhythmic, but the rise and fall of his chest was noticeably more rapid than before.

Zhao Yihang and Qian Kun flanked Hao Qiang as they ran.

The two of them each held one shoulder strap of Hao Qiang's backpack, helping to share some of the weight.

Hao Qiang's legs were no longer under his control; it was less like he was running and more like he was being dragged forward by those two arms.

"Brother Qiang, lift your feet! Don't drag your feet!" Zhao Yihang panted heavily, his face flushed red.

"I...didn't...move...the...floor..." Hao Qiang's voice was barely audible, and his face was covered in sweat.

Ma Teng and Sun Dawei, one on each side, braced Hao Qiang's back with their shoulders, causing Hao Qiang to stagger forward.

From a distance, it doesn't look like a running team at all; it's clearly a modular, human-powered propulsion device with Hao Qiang at its core.

"Brother Qiang! Hang in there! Just one more lap!" Qian Kun encouraged him as he ran.

"This...you guys said this a day ago..." Hao Qiang said, his voice trembling with tears.

"Did I?" Qian Kun paused, then turned to look at Zhao Yihang. "Old Zhao, did I say that?"

Zhao Yihang: "What you said one lap ago was the last 300 meters."

"That's the same idea!"

"No! One is 300 meters, and the other is one lap, a difference of 100 meters. Qiang, you're bad at math, but I don't blame you."

Hao Qiang broke down on the spot: "I don't want to study math anymore! I just want to die!"