COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . 7 . . . 10 . . . 14 . . .
Guns. Four people.
Rest. Knives and axes.
I licked my lips and tightened my grip on my daggers, my eyes on those holding the guns.
“Take care of them.”
That’s my cue.
I sprinted to the nearest person holding a revolver.
The hellish basic training paid off. It heightened my senses and reflexes, as well as making my body light and flexible.
I moved in a zigzag motion, avoiding the bullets coming my way.
A Colt Python Revolver.
Three bullets left.
2 . . . 1.
I kicked the guy in the stomach and slashed his neck.
That’s one down.
I moved to the side just in time a bullet grazed my hair. I turned and threw my dagger straight on a man’s skull.
I sprinted to the other two. There were those who tried to barge my way, but I was much quicker. When it came to speed, I was confident.
I paid those men no mind and continued my focus on those two holding the guns. I quickened my pace, slashing everything in my path, including those who barged my way.
Wherever I go, screams resounded until I reached the person holding the gun at point-blank on my face. I ducked in time that his finger pulled the trigger.
His hands fell when my dagger met his flesh. Before he even let out another scream, I sliced his neck.
I ran to my last prey while avoiding the bullets he so desperately aimed at me.
“S-stay! S-stay ba––!”
I jumped when I was meters in front of him and landed on his shoulders, instantaneously stabbing my dagger on his head.
I was too occupied on my last kill that I was too late to notice a man with an ax looming behind me. I turned, hoping to get him before he could slice me in two.
His bloodshot eyes were wild with desperation as he brought down the ax.
Red liquid splattered on my face when the man spat a mouthful of blood. His eyes rolled back as he slumped against the ground with a knife stuck on the back of his head.
I glanced over and saw my brother’s bloody face. I roamed my gaze and found no one was left except for us.
My brother already finished them all.
“Are you alright?”
He asked, extending his hand at me, which I grabbed and stood to my feet.
“Don’t mind me. What about you?”
He just nodded and walked towards the corpses to loot their rations and clothes.
I did the same.
I grabbed their guns and ammunition. Their supplies. Their clothes.
This was how we were going to survive for the next couple of days –– stranded here in the cold, desolate place until we find the base.
It was our last training for the advanced test. After this, we would be free from this hellish drill.
The basic was to prepare us. Rigorous exercise to conditioned our body.
The intermediate was skills and techniques to equip us to survive and defend ourselves under different circumstances.
And the last, the advance, it was the test to put it all to use.
There were four phases of the advance.
The hellish desert in the south.
The deep waters in the east.
The wild jungle in the west.
And the freezing unknown land in the north.
There was only one condition for the training.
Survive until you reach the base.
Wherever that base was unknown.
And these criminals who were judged to a life sentence were given a chance of freedom or reduce jail time if they manage to defeat us.
Land us a hit, and their sentence was reduced to ten years.
Managed to knock us out, and it would reduce to twenty.
Kill us, and you’re a free man.
Of course, our grandparents would never allow us to die –– so the last condition was a lie to enticed the men to give it their all when facing us.
We could give up or admit defeat so we could get out from all of this.
But it was futile.
If we failed, we have to repeat the test all over again and again until we succeeded. And believe me, I don’t want to repeat this –– ever.
Every man had rations and weapons on them. That was how we would endure this godforsaken place with nothing but our clothes and a couple of weapons and rations to last us a week.
The Fay’s have these strict rules not to kill animals unless push comes to shove.
Bread, cheese, water . . . oh~ chocolate.
I also looted the man’s clothes, leaving him with nothing on. He’s dead anyway.
We needed all the clothes we could get with this harsh cold.
I wrapped his clothes and tied it like a bag to carry the goods.
I roamed around to find my brother doing the same.
Judging from our haul today, these could last us a week or two.
That was the challenge of this training. We didn’t know when was the next attack. Sometimes, some of our attackers appeared out of nowhere. Thus, we had to be prepared at all times and consumed the right amount of food if we wanted to last until we found that base.
“Let’s go. We have to build a shelter before the sun completely goes down.”
That’s right; the major trial was to stay alive at this below freezing point temperature.
I flipped my haul over my shoulder and prepared to find a place to rest when my eyes caught someone.
“Brother, behind you!”
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