Among the crowd, there were those few old soldiers from the Special Forces, staring disdainfully at the Repair Camp trainees, who looked like undernourished Big Head Karl types.
Fatty's heart sank; this was the last thing he wanted to see.
These old soldiers were warriors emerged from the thick of battle, elite selected one in ten thousand from the army, future experienced grassroots commanders! If a fight broke out, the Repair Camp trainees would surely end up battered and broken, and these elites' futures would be ruined.
The Repair Camp trainees cheered as the instructor arrived, quickly making way. Fatty squeezed through to a few trainees lying on the ground and carefully checked them over, feeling a weight lifted from his heart.
