Chapter 7: Why Him and Not Me?

Chapter 7: Why Him and Not Me

The underwater breath-holding training consisted of exercises both on land and underwater.

Normally, practice took place on shore, relying entirely on the trainees’ own discipline to hold their breath while pulling heavy objects.

Entering the pool was akin to stepping into a real battlefield scenario, allowing soldiers to experience firsthand the sudden changes and harsh realities of combat.

Sometimes, to better simulate battlefield conditions, training was conducted at night, with searchlights sweeping across the pool. If a trainee was caught by the beam or failed to meet the breath-holding requirements underwater, they would be punished with a five-kilometer run carrying a 10-kilogram weight.

The vast pool was surrounded by onlookers, and even several officers who had been seated in the stands had come down. Mr. Don McLean was quietly giving instructions to a trainee, who then turned and left.

“Final adjustment: deep breaths. Let your breath fill every cell in your body. You must learn to control your mind underwater, sense the oxygen consumption with each heartbeat as you take a step, and find a way to minimize oxygen use,” Second Lieutenant Jonas Hansen instructed the two trainees.

“Begin!”

In wartime, there would be no time for soldiers to freely adjust their breathing, so lung capacity training was emphasized regularly. Soldiers were taught to find patterns in the water, harness its power, and make it their own.

“Begin!” Second Lieutenant Jonas Hansen commanded again.

The instructor responsible for timing started the stopwatch for the two.

During the first test, the timing officers had treated it as routine, but now their interest in Zhou Zhihan had piqued. They wanted to see what kind of strength this Chinese trainee would demonstrate in this challenge.

Regardless of the remaining tests, Zhou Zhihan’s outstanding achievement of completing 60 burpees in two minutes meant the West Point Military Academy could no longer persuade him to drop out.

His frog-like jumps might one day become a standard training exercise at West Point.

Both men dived simultaneously, each dragging a rope tied to an irregular, 30-kilogram weight, walking forward along the pool bottom.

Damn, the water was freezing! Fully submerged, Zhou Zhihan shuddered, and a strong urge to urinate arose...

The pool was designed to simulate a real aquatic environment, with fish and shrimp. After spring, as the water warmed, snakes were also introduced. The bottom was covered with silt and mud, tree roots, debris, and in some places, growing aquatic plants, making movement extremely difficult.

The oxygen consumption of quietly squatting underwater was different from that of walking along the bottom, especially when dragging a 30-kilogram weight, raising the demands on the trainees.

Without strong willpower, stamina, endurance, and a keen sense of direction, it was hard to pass this stage.

On the battlefield, opportunities were fleeting. The enemy would not provide ample preparation time. Often, soldiers, already exhausted, would plunge into icy water to cross a river and launch a sudden attack.

This was why this test was placed second.

Another reason was that the school organizers never expected Zhou Zhihan to successfully complete the first test and advance to the second.

Before long, the silt and aquatic plants stirred up by their footsteps turned the water murky, the area expanding until those around the pool could barely make out two dark shapes moving forward underwater. Eventually, even the silhouettes vanished.

In the turbid water, Zhou Zhihan had to close his eyes and rely solely on his instincts to drag the weight forward, demanding exceptional directional sense and underwater judgment.

A correct sense of direction allowed a straight path without detours, reducing crossing time.

Good underwater judgment ensured the dragged weight would not snag on roots or weeds, requiring the soldier to skillfully avoid obstacles and conserve energy and time.

Zhou Zhihan and Ryunosuke Sakamoto remained close underwater. Their walking stirred water noises that drowned out their hearing, forcing them to rely on intuition and feel.

They carefully avoided branches and weeds. Occasionally, large and small fish swam past, evoking an eerie sense as if encountering water spirits. The silt reached up to their calves, making walking arduous. Despite holding their breath, the foul, muddy smell was unmistakable.

Swimming across rivers in combat aimed to evade enemy watchmen on the opposite bank and execute surprise attacks. If a soldier misjudged and surfaced for air when the searchlight swept the pool, he would be vulnerable to slaughter underwater.

Before crossing, soldiers would study the searchlight’s sweeping interval, diving when it passed and silently counting underwater, surfacing only when the beam had moved away.

Zhou Zhihan felt confident he could stay underwater for two to three minutes without breathing. The icy water calmed him quickly; his heartbeat slowed to fifty beats per minute, greatly reducing oxygen consumption. Closing his eyes, he pulled the weight forward, silently counting.

After eighty seconds, Ryunosuke Sakamoto surfaced, wiping the murky water from his face, gasping deeply. He glanced toward the pool’s marker: eighteen meters.

Applause and praise erupted around the pool.

This was an excellent result.

Ryunosuke Sakamoto was a transfer student, new and unfamiliar with the environment and training methods. Such a performance was truly commendable.

Holding breath underwater for eighty seconds was achievable for all first-year students present, but immediately following the first test by dragging a 30-kilogram weight underwater doubled the difficulty.

Confident he had completed the task, Ryunosuke looked around for Zhou Zhihan. Based on his own result, he expected to surpass this East Asian underachiever.

But there was no sign of Zhou underwater.

Nor on the shore.

Ryunosuke grew anxious. Zhou’s failure to surface meant he was still moving forward.

After ninety-five seconds, the timing instructor grew concerned as Zhou remained submerged.

At 105 seconds, Zhou still hadn’t surfaced; squad leader Steven Good also became uneasy.

Zhou had entered the water sweating heavily. Could the sudden cold have caused cramps, trapping him underwater?

At 116 seconds, Zhou was still absent from the surface. Everyone except Ryunosuke began to worry. This was unusual. Even without the first test’s exertion, maintaining two minutes of underwater walking was already impressive.

At 130 seconds, Second Lieutenant Jonas Hansen could no longer sit still. He loosened his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, ready to dive in at a moment’s notice. If Zhou drowned, all the instructors present would be implicated, and as Zhou’s trainer, the consequences for him would be severe.

The watching trainees grew restless too. Though Zhou had often lagged behind the class, at this life-or-death moment, they were anxious for him.

At 150 seconds, the water stirred near the thirty-meter mark, and a head broke the surface. Zhou wiped his face and exhaled a long, murky breath before gasping greedily for air.

“Ding! Host has defeated the Japanese student for the third time, rewarded with 400 aerial combat credits!” The system’s voice echoed again in Zhou’s ear.

“China…”

“Chinese Zhou…”

Cheers erupted by the poolside. The soldiers’ taut nerves finally eased. Some sincerely applauded Zhou Zhihan.

Others burned with jealousy. Damn it, how did he manage such good results without training? It’s unfair. Why him and not me? Why…?

By the pool stood Major Jeff Hunter, head of the West Point Training Department, who had been specially invited by the trainees. He quietly asked a nearby Marine Corps lieutenant in uniform, “How does this trainee’s performance compare to the Marine Corps’ selection standards this year?”

“If considering individual tests, his results are average, but combined, they rank above average.”

Lieutenant Becker was a Marine Corps officer permanently stationed at West Point, assigned to scout promising talent for concentrated training before they joined the Marines as elite soldiers.

Like a twenty-first-century talent scout in entertainment or sports, he sought to discover newcomers with potential.

“The United States needs talents like this. Which class does this trainee belong to? What’s his name? Is he American?” Major Hunter asked.

Lieutenant Becker shrugged, hands open.

“Sir! He’s from China, named Zhou Zhihan. Originally, he came to Randolph Air Force Academy as an exchange student but failed to meet the Air Force fitness requirements. So Randolph assigned him to Infantry Officer Class 17 for physical training.” An instructor informed Major Hunter, “This morning, you signed the paperwork to expel him and send him home, but he refused to leave and requested a fitness test.”

Major Hunter was stunned for a few seconds. “He’s that Chinese exchange student who’s been here three months with no progress?”

Major Hunter only knew Zhou had made no progress in three months, unaware of his lazy training habits. The instructors reported his poor performance, meeting the criteria for expulsion, and the signatures of department heads finalized it.

The academy’s leadership managed the big picture, instructors handled details, and trainees obeyed training.

“Yes, sir!”

The instructor confirmed.

“When was the last time he was tested?”

“About a month ago, sir. His results were abysmal then.”

“In just one month, his improvement has been so rapid?” Major Hunter pondered briefly, then nodded. “Quantitative accumulation leads to qualitative leaps. Perhaps his training volume hadn’t peaked a month ago, but the past month’s intensity reached its maximum, resulting in a breakthrough.”

“Sir!” The instructor whispered, “But over the last month, he’s been sleeping in daily and never attended training.”

“F…” Major Hunter felt the urge to curse.

Just then, Zhou Zhihan and Ryunosuke Sakamoto began the core strength test.

This was Ryunosuke’s specialty. He was fighting to reclaim some honor, having lost the previous two tests. Now, it was a battle for dignity.

(End of Chapter)