"I will never shoot at people, never," a young Wolfkin boy silently muttered to himself. He was wearing a PASGT vest in splinter pattern camouflage, layered with ALICE gear and a backpack, and had a specially designed steel helmet that fit the shape of a Wolfkin's head. Barefoot and holding an AKM fitted with a bayonet, he sat inside a BTR-80 wheeled armored vehicle. The other Wolfkin soldiers seated with him looked grim. According to the pre-battle briefing, they were about to attack a small town—a crucial transportation hub and a strategic point. Capturing it would bring the Kingdom of Remus one step closer to conquering the Northern Peninsula.

  "Listen, Gladius. Just do as you did in training," an older soldier told the boy. The boy's name was Gladiusruber, although that wasn’t his original name.

  "Yes," the boy replied.

  Gunfire began to ring out. Soon after, the armored vehicle came to a halt. The door opened, revealing a war-torn townscape under the dark night. Under cover fire from the vehicle’s mounted machine guns, the soldiers quickly disembarked—Gladius among them. He followed a few other Wolfkin soldiers to take cover behind a car parked by the roadside. His vision allowed him to clearly see the enemy across the street, firing from behind makeshift barricades of debris. They were human infantry dressed in Flecktarn camouflage—soldiers of the Republic of Yir, the very enemies Gladius had been trained to defeat.

  Snapping out of those memories, I realized I had been daydreaming during class. But I couldn’t help it—after several hours of lessons, this was the last period of the day, and it was physics, the subject I understood the least. Natural sciences were my weakest field; I couldn’t grasp the difference between physics and chemistry, and I had no clue what Newton’s three laws even were. When the bell finally rang, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. My classmates picked up their bags and left the room. Mikhail walked over to me.

  "Hey Ash, let’s go to the café and talk about our report," he said. Three weeks had passed since the start of the semester, and we were now on a first-name basis. It was Mikhail who took the initiative; I just went along with it.

  "Sure," I replied. Mikhail was incredibly passionate about the report we had to submit for civics class. I wasn’t sure why. Since he usually had duties as a class officer during lunchtime, we always met at the café to discuss the report.

  We left the school and headed to a nearby café. The food there was average, but as the most affordable option around, it was still quite popular. Mikhail took out a stack of papers from his backpack and said, "This is a summary of our diplomatic relations with the Kingdom of Remus. I compiled it after scouring over ten years’ worth of newspapers at the city library these past few days."

  "You’re way too enthusiastic. This is just a school report—it’s not worth using up so much of your time and energy," I said. In this country—this world, even—the level of mass communication technology remained stuck in the heyday of feature phones and fax machines. Doing research wasn’t as simple as typing keywords into a smartphone.

  "So, Ash, how’s your part of the report coming along?" Mikhail asked.

  "It’s all ready," I replied. "All that’s left is to organize the material. Once I’ve done that, I’ll make the report poster for you."

  "Thanks, Ash. Sorry for pushing all the hassle onto you," Mikhail said.

  "You’re the one working the hardest. Don’t worry about it," I answered.

  "Back to the point—what patterns did you notice from the materials?" I asked.

  "Well... as the public knows, our Republic of Yir and the Kingdom of Remus have long been in conflict over the Northern Peninsula. Both sides claim sovereignty over the region, although we’ve governed most of it for years," Mikhail replied.

  "I think we could use the Northern Sea’s maritime potential as an entry point. That area’s actually a great route for navigation. If the regional situation stabilizes, the Northern Peninsula could definitely become a hot trade zone," Mikhail said.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "That sounds too professional—almost like a college thesis," I countered.

  "Then how would you put it?" Mikhail asked in return.

  I answered, "Our nation’s political center is located on the Nekraso Archipelago in the western sea, so the Kingdom of Remus, situated to the west of the Noyean Continent, can’t directly attack our homeland. They try to force us to give up our sovereignty over the Northern Peninsula. But they’ve never abandoned their claim, and for decades, they’ve conducted military operations there, keeping us in a constant state of conflict."

  A waiter brought our orders—my carbonated drink and Mikhail’s Boston pie with fruit tea.

  "Everything you said is already common knowledge. I want to write a unique report," Mikhail said, visibly excited.

  I replied, "Then go with your idea, but just keep it concise. No long-winded speeches."

  Mikhail smiled, satisfied. "Then I’ll draft the text for the presentation. You just need to write it on the poster."

  "But you’re already doing so much. Let me take care of the rest," I offered.

  "It’s okay—I got this," Mikhail insisted.

  Maybe he wanted to ensure the content met his expectations. So I let him take the lead.

  "Alright, it’s settled. But take care not to wear yourself out," I said.

  "No problem," Mikhail answered and began eating his cake. I sipped my soda. It tasted just like cola.

  That conversation captured Mikhail’s personality. As one of the school’s top students, he always strove for perfection. He worked so hard because he dreamed of getting into one of the country’s best universities—Nekra University. He was nothing like someone like me, who just took life one day at a time. I wasn’t lazy, just without grand ambitions. To me, my current life was already a blessing. Dreaming big felt like a luxury.

  Just like that boy back then.

  Gladiusruber and his allies were pinned down by enemy fire behind a parked car. He fired a few shots in the enemy’s direction, but they were angled upward and didn’t hit anything.

  Gladius considered his strength. He could probably push the car they were using for cover. He was far stronger than the average Wolfkin.

  "I’m going to push the car forward—cover me!" Gladius shouted.

  "Got it," the others replied.

  Gladius placed both hands on the car and pushed it forward. The other soldiers provided cover fire. Suddenly, a bullet pierced a soldier’s head right in front of Gladius. But he couldn’t stop—he kept pushing the car, using it to ram the enemy’s defenses. Though the barricade didn’t collapse, Gladius and his comrades now found themselves in even closer proximity to the enemy.

  "Our tanks are here!" a soldier shouted into his radio.

  Gladius looked back and saw a T-72 tank approaching. It rammed through the barricade, its mounted gunner mowing down the enemy troops inside. Gladius and the others rushed past the enemy lines and took cover behind the tank, firing as they advanced. Gladius didn’t fire—he followed the others to a building ahead and broke through a rear door.

  Inside, a few enemy soldiers opened fire. Gladius’s companions shot back and took them down. Gladius walked through the hallway into what looked like an office space. The desks and chairs were in disarray, suggesting a hasty evacuation.

  He left the office and continued down the corridor...

  I didn’t want to remember any more.

  Snapping back to the present, I saw I had drunk more than half my soda. Mikhail was still eating his cake and sipping tea.

  I quickly finished my drink and said, "I think I should get going."

  Mikhail waved at me while sipping his tea. I left money on the table, said goodbye, and exited the café.

  Sitting on a subway seat, I reflected on my situation. As Ash, I was being treated well in the Republic of Yir. I didn’t understand Mr. Rice’s true motives for taking me in. Did he want to use my abilities? If so, why place me in his own home and provide me with schooling? I couldn’t figure it out.

  But this life—so similar to the one I once had—was all I ever dreamed of. Now I had a new family and attended school. Even though they were somewhat distant, and even though I was older than the average student and full of secrets, this life was far better than the one I had as a soldier of the Kingdom of Remus.

  Gladius walked alone through the building's hallway, aiming his rifle ahead. The others were searching other floors. As a new recruit, Gladius was left alone, likely because of his exceptional strength and resistance to bullets.

  He walked through the empty hallways, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He reached an elevator hall with four elevators and a stairwell door. No one was around. He opened the stairwell door and entered. Suddenly, someone struck his head with a baseball bat. His helmet absorbed the blow. He spun around, gripped his bayonet-fitted rifle, and thrust it forward, stabbing the attacker in the neck.

  It was a child.

  The child spat blood and collapsed slowly. Gladius froze, staring at the fallen boy. His hands trembled.

  He descended the stairs and found a group of people hiding in the basement. They were all civilians—humans, including the elderly and children. They panicked when they saw Gladius. He didn’t know what to do. He shouted at them to stay calm and repeatedly promised not to harm them. Then he used his radio to report that there were many civilians needing shelter.

  That night, the Kingdom of Remus successfully captured the town. It was Gladius’s first battle since completing training. He had kept his promise to himself—not to fire at people. But the blood on his bayonet remained...