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3.37% The Martyrs: the Generation that Burns / Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Success over Failure

章節 3: Chapter 3: Success over Failure

After a tactical class that Ryan wasn't a part of, Caity walked straight into the sparring room. The whole place was empty. Instructors seemed to have disappeared into thin air during the recess session, and most recruits were either in their rooms, enjoying the brief moment of privacy, or on the way out of the base. Even as she walked, Caity wondered if she would've had a better time in a sweets shop.

When she walked into the sparring room, Ryan was already there. He was wearing a black t-shirt that didn't have a single distinguishing feature. Caity recognized it as a standard piece of clothing given to every single recruit the day they checked into the base. Caity herself tossed it to the bottom of closest the moment she heard she was allowed to wear her own clothes as long as they weren't too ridiculous.

Caity herself was wearing a blue t-shirt that was a bit too small for her. She reserved that specifically for cases where she wanted to attract guys for some fun. Her pants were equally tight.

Ryan stood on the mat and started.

"So, when you are fighting with someone, you want to first identify what threats there are and what levels those threats are. If they have a dagger in one hand, you want to try to disable that first...wait! What are you doing!"

As Ryan was talking, Caity was slowly creeping onto Ryan from the side. It was only when she was rubbing her chest on Ryan's arm did he realize what was going on. As soon as that happened, he flinched so quickly that it looked like he was touched by flames, not a hot young woman.

Sensing Ryan's reaction, Caity couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed.

"What? Isn't this what you expected when you invited me here?"

Everything had a first time, and this was the first time when Caity saw the surprise on Ryan's face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You told me to come here! Why else would you tell me to come here at a time like this when everyone is alone?"

"To help you get better…" Ryan gulped, and Caity watched as his expression change from surprise to disappointment. "actually, never mind. This is a waste of my time."

It was that disappointment that lit up the gasoline barrel that was Caity's emotions. She suddenly snapped. All the fear and anger pumped into her heart throughout the week were unleashed in the form of an outburst toward the recruit in front of her.

"You don't get to be condescending at me, Ryan! You're just another recruit! What right do you have to look down on me? Just because you've got this good old Special Forces major? You know what? Good for you! But I'm not taking your shit! Do you think just because you can fight better than me, you're a better person than I am?"

Ryan paused. The outburst didn't disturb the collected look on his face. A shouting match wasn't in his schedule. He simply stood there as Caity kept on venting her anger out. The blonde went on and on until she finally had all the anger out of the system. That was when Ryan started.

"I am disappointed, Caity, but not because you're not good at fighting. I'm disappointed because you are in pain, but you aren't even willing to change. Do you know what you remind me of? You remind me of those people who are more interested in sitting in front of a computer and typing angry comments under Youtube videos about societal issues than going out to vote. What you are doing is failing, but you'd rather drown yourself in short-term, meaningless acts of pleasure than attempt to change yourself."

"Easy for you to say!" Caity retaliated. "You've probably got both of your parents in the military or something. Been shooting guns since you were a child?"

"Funny that you mentioned shooting guns," Ryan smirked before lifting up his t-shirt to reveal his right arm joint. There was a large piece of purple bruise there.

"I was here two weeks before you were. During those two weeks, I shot more bullets than the rest of my Phasewalker class combined. Handguns. Rifles. Machine guns. Sniper rifles. They had to order me to get off the shooting range because I was spending time shooting rather than sleeping." Ryan pulled his t-shirt down. "By the way, I have a single parent. A father. I haven't even touched a gun before coming here."

Caity bit her lips. When all the anger was out of her system, she just felt sorry for what she said.

"There are so many people in this world," Ryan sighed. "they have the will, but they don't have the choice. The poor. The uneducated. Even if they are willing to put in time and effort, they are almost always destined to suffer and fail."

For a moment, he almost looked guilty.

"Us, we are the opposite. The government, they need us, and they are willing to provide any means we may need. We can get the best teachers in the world. We can shoot as many bullets as we need. All we have to do is make the choice. Choose strength over weakness. Vigilance over sloth. Pain over pleasure. Success over failure."

"We are destined for greatness, but if you let that go to waste and somehow manage to grab defeat from the jaws of victory, well now that's just a shame."

Caity gulped. She was stunned. It was as if Ryan's words opened up a completely different door for her. She has always been seeing this whole training thing as a burden. A pain in her ass. But she never considered how many people would give up everything for the chance that she was pushing to the side.

"I'm sorry." She was sincere.

"I'm sure you are." Ryan walked back to a shelf and grabbed onto a bottle of fresh water before going for the door. "You still have the choice, Caity. Make the right one. Make the wrong one. Honestly, I don't care, just don't let that potential go to waste."

With that said, he walked out of the sparring room with not another look back.

Caity sighed and sat down on the ground. The total silence and utter privacy gave her a chance to really reflect on what she has been doing since she got in. Slacking off whenever she had a chance. Choosing to have fun or relax whenever she could. In fact, she has been doing what she enjoyed as a student, and that method worked well when she was learning stuff she would never use in the future. But when applying the same thing to stuff that her life could depend on…

That was when the reality of everything suddenly hit her like a cannonball! Sooner or later, she was going to another world! Who knew what could be on the other end? Tentacled monsters? Zombies? Xenomorphs? Lightsaber-wielding Jedi or Sith? Copyright infringement! Cough* Cough* With what she was doing here, she would die as easily as a goon in the movies!

Caity bit her lips. Maybe she still had a chance to get out of all this! If she did sign up to be a medic or an accountant, then what were the chances that she would be sent to the front, right? After all, in movies, nothing ever goes wrong in expeditions that could put non-combat personnel in danger...

The blonde sighed before suddenly standing up and walking out of the room. As she got close to an intersection, she couldn't help but glance at her watch. If she moved fast enough, she could still get a cup of ice cream in, but all she did was bite her lips before continuing down another direction.

Her steps moved faster and faster as her body was filled with renewed strength.

Finally, she was at the shooting range. Caity has always despised the shooting range. The recoil of firearms hurt. Handguns hurt her wrist and rifles hurt her shoulder, but her mind went back to what Ryan said.

The shooting range wasn't as empty as the sparring room. There were still a few recruits here, shooting in their free time. There would've been more, but hours of firing a gun every day as deterred all but the most enthusiastic. An instructor gave Caity a weapon without asking too many questions.

Ryan was right. The instructors here gave the recruits a lot of freedom, along with unlimited resources and access to world-class trainers.

"I need to work on my shooting," She spoke quietly to the instructor as she picked up her weapon. "can you help me?"

The instructor looked up at her. Caity has always been bad with recognizing faces, and that was when she realized the instructor was one of the mean ones. There were at least a dozen shooting instructors. This one was known for screaming at anyone who didn't hit a 10. In the current class, this was almost everyone.

Strangely, she recognized a bit of respect on the inspector's face, but that look disappeared so quickly Caity thought she was seeing things.

The inspector led Caity to a booth. Caity raised her weapon, but before she could open fire, the instructor tapped her shoulder. She put the safety back onto the weapon and took off her ear muffler.

"Check your weapon first."

"Oh, sorry…"

"Don't apologize. Just do it."

Caity lowered her head and discharged the weapon's magazine, checked the ammo, and then slid it back into the weapon. She turned off the safety before finally taking aim again. Once again, the instructor stopped her.

"Put the butt of your gun against your shoulder. Line up your right eye with the muzzle of the gun."

Caity did just that. This time, the instructor didn't stop her as she discharged the weapon in bursts of 4-shots. She remembered what the instructors told her. Automatic rifles packed quite a punch, but with that punching power came a questionable level of muzzle suppression, as well as quite the recoil.

The recoil kicked against her shoulder, just like she expected, but instead of feeling discouraged, she felt more inspired than ever. One strange thought appeared in her head and covered anything else about avoiding pain and backing out.

It'll be so fun when I show off my bruise to Ryan…

Da, da, da, da.

Time kept on passing, but Caity didn't care. All she knew was a single, endless cycle. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Reload. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Reload. When the center of the target paper was destroyed beyond recognition, she switched her target to the outer rims. When even that was destroyed, she would finally press the button and have the automated device change the shooting targets.

Her shoulder burned like hell, and every recoil felt like a stab that tore the wound open just a bit more, but Caity didn't budge. If anything, the pain made her feel more satisfied.

Da, da, da, da.

Shells kept on falling. Bullets kept on flying. Targets kept on getting changed. And in the middle of the shooting range, the girl kept on growing.

---

Caity was disappointed when Ryan stayed all business-like during the day. She tried to show off her hard work, but Ryan's answer was simple.

"Congrats."

As a matter of fact, Ryan has barely interacted with Caity after giving her the speech. Caity suspected when he said he didn't care which choice she made, he was telling the truth. This made her a little distraught. Then again, she shouldn't be doing all this just to impress some boy. She should be doing this for herself, regardless of what everyone else thought about it.

Her shoulder was actually doing a lot better. Twenty minutes before the recess session ended, the instructor walked up to her and told her to stop, and it wasn't because she was wasting too many bullets. The instructor showed Caity to a masseuse. For the rest of the period, the masseuse had Caity take off her t-shirt, lay down on a bed, and treated to the large piece of bruise on her shoulder.

By the time she was done, the bruises still hurt, but it wasn't as crippling.

"The next time you do this, call me." The masseuse said quietly before leaving.

Caity slowly grinned as she sat back up and put her clothes back on. Ryan was right. The government and Section X needed people like her, Phasewalkers like her, so they would do anything they could to make them do as well as possible.

Ryan was right. This was too good an opportunity to miss.


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