October 12, 2112.
Yin Country, field camp.
In the practice field that had been carved out of the mountains, green tents and a low, dark-grey command post lay dormant.
The intense heat had just passed, the hard days were finally over, and the autumn breeze brought a refreshing coolness that made the usually grueling training a bit more bearable.
A massive fist brutally hit Wang Ye in the abdomen, his saliva swirling inside his cheeks.
He reached out to block his opponent's sweeping hand, then swung a left hook that caught his opponent in the face, followed by a trip that sent his adversary tumbling into the mud.
"Ouch!! Fuck!"
Covered in mud from his fall, Li Suyuan laughed heartily as his fellow soldiers around him started to root for them.
"Awesome!! Let's go another round!"
"Go away!" Li Suyuan, touching his cheek, burst into an easygoing smile.
Wang Ye stood in front of him, reaching out to pull him up with one hand.
