September, inside the Godwind Battalion's meeting room.
Bang!
Michael Ross, the battalion commander, slammed his palm onto the table, his face dark with anger as he glared at the two captains in front of him.
"Look at yourselves! Just look at the sorry state you’re in!" His voice quivered with fury. "You're seasoned soldiers, aren't you? Haven't you led new recruit units five or six times already? Yet now, you're letting a group of students turn things into this mess? You've disgraced yourselves! You've disgraced the Godwind Battalion!"
Outside, the crowd of officers watching the scene continued to grow. Ryan Lane was among them, craning his neck to see what was happening inside.
Having just arrived in this world after his sudden transmigration, Ryan had only wanted to familiarize himself with his surroundings by strolling through the hall. Before he knew it, he was swept into this impromptu gathering.
As Ryan glanced at the second lieutenant insignia on his uniform, a flood of new memories surged into his mind.
Apparently, he'd become the cultural advisor for the battalion, responsible for newsletters and organizing performances. The realization made Ryan's expression turn sour. Back in his previous life, he'd been an adrenaline junkie, passionately dedicated to extreme sports. Freedom and adventure had been his lifeblood.
Now? Stuck in this artistic desk job? The mere thought of spending his time writing reports and planning events made him want to scream.
Suddenly, Michael Ross's sharp voice once again cut through the room, echoing down the hallway."Why aren't you saying anything? Turned mute all of a sudden? Weren't you all so brave before the military training? What happened—chickened out now?"
Ryan Lane glanced into the meeting room. One officer was slumped in a wheelchair, while the other leaned on a crutch.
His eyes widened in disbelief. What the hell is going on? Did they just crawl back from a battlefield or something?
The officer with the crutch let out a downbeat sigh and grumbled, "Commander, I'm really not the right fit for this assignment. Give it to someone more capable, please."
Outside the meeting room, the gathered officers stifled their laughter, though their shoulders shook with the effort. A couple lost the battle and let out muffled chuckles, drawing a sharp glare from Michael Ross that sent them clamping hands over their mouths immediately.
Ryan, now fully adjusted to the flood of memories from this world, glanced at his own second lieutenant insignia. The absurdity of it all almost made him laugh. He had planned to slip away quietly—whatever this mess was, it wasn’t his problem. But with so many people around, sneaking off seemed impossible, and he found himself reluctantly sticking around.
Michael Ross shot the officer with the crutch an impatient look. "Do you think I assigned you because I had no one else? I gave you this task because I believed in you. And this—this is how you repay that faith?"Captain gave a bitter smile and said, "Commander Ross, I completely understand your intentions. But you also know, we just got new recruits this year, and their combat skills haven’t improved much yet. With the all-army competition coming up, I can’t let this training task interfere with prepping them for that. Wouldn’t that just embarrass you in the end?"
Michael Ross shot him a sharp glare, barely holding back his frustration. "Alright, enough with the excuses."
He turned to the other captain. "And you? Are you planning to run off to train your troops too?"
The other captain looked helpless and replied, "I’d love to, but you see, I’m practically disabled now. How am I supposed to lead them when I’m stuck like this? I need proper rest."
Michael snapped, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "What happened to you? Why are you in a wheelchair all of a sudden?"
The captain, looking both annoyed and embarrassed, explained, "I ate something bad recently and...well, I’ve had constant diarrhea. Eleven times just last night, Commander! I physically can’t stand right now—it’s not that I don’t want to, but my body just won’t cooperate."
Hearing this, the officers standing by the door burst into laughter, some holding their stomachs and practically crying from trying to suppress it. Even Ryan Lane, who had just found himself in this unfamiliar world, couldn’t help but come close to losing his composure.
Though still slightly overwhelmed by his situation, Ryan found himself quietly amused. “Seriously, these two are something else. The excuses are getting more creative by the second.”
A nearby officer chuckled and added, "Yeah, what a show. It’s like they’re competing to see who can come up with the wildest reason!"
Another chimed in, grinning, "They should be filing patents for these excuses!"
Ryan, listening to their discussion, felt a flicker of genuine interest in the training mission.Taking a group of students for training? That’s supposed to be the easiest job, so why was everyone so unwilling?
Michael Ross glared sharply at one of the captains. “Really? Of all times, your stomach had to act up right after you got there? Couldn’t pick earlier or later? What are you, allergic to the environment?”
The captain looked utterly miserable. “Boss, last night I was starting to think I’d turned into some kind of portable water cannon! Trust me, this isn’t something I wanted. Wait… oh no, it’s happening again…”
He shot off in his wheelchair, heading for the restroom as fast as his hands could wheel.
The sight left everyone around struggling to stifle their laughter. Eventually, they burst. Even Ryan Lane, clutching his stomach, had tears at the corners of his eyes from laughing too hard.
Michael tried to keep a straight face but caved after a second. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook, and it took him a good moment to recover. When he finally stopped, he cleared his throat.
“Alright, enough!” His tone turned serious, his gaze cutting across the room. “We still haven’t picked anyone for the drill.”
Hearing that, the crowd outside immediately straightened up, wiping traces of amusement from their faces. That look on Michael’s face—the one that said *I'm not joking*—yep, they knew what was coming next.
Predictably, people started inching away, ducking out wherever they could.
“Not so fast!” Michael barked. “Stand right there! Watching the drama's fun, huh? But as soon as it’s time to get to work, nobody’s around?”
He gave a pointed glare. “Let me remind you: if this drill fails again, higher-ups are gonna turn us into a laughingstock. How’s *that* for a motivation boost?”“Do you know what a lump of dough is? Looks good on the outside but completely useless inside!”
Michael Ross was fuming. “The flag of the Kamikaze Unit is soaked with the blood of countless soldiers. It’s our duty to protect that honor with our lives. Now, you’ve got to show the leaders that we’re still the Kamikaze Unit we used to be—not some spineless doughboys!”
The entire room fell silent as his words echoed.
Pointing angrily at one of the captains, he barked, “Kevin Wade, you—”
The man waved his hands frantically, panic written all over his face. “Commander, this is about the reputation of the whole unit! This kind of responsibility is too much for me. I can’t handle it!”
Michael’s glare shifted to another officer, who instantly protested, “Commander, I’m just a staff officer—I’ve never actually led troops before. I can draft plans all day, but training them? That’s way out of my league!”
One by one, he called others out, but every single person refused.
No one wanted the job—it wasn’t hard to see why. The students they had to train this year were known to be an unruly, defiant bunch, the worst in years. Normally, training tasks would be assigned by higher-ups, but for some inexplicable reason, the Kamikaze Unit had been saddled with this headache.
And with barely two months left before the military training assessments—plus a planned review by top brass—it was shaping up to be a complete disaster. If this goes south, his future would be completely ruined.
So, no way he was volunteering for this.
Ryan Lane glanced around at the room, filled with awkward silence. His eyes carried a tinge of frustration.
In his previous life, he had been a daredevil, a thrill-seeker who thrived on extreme sports. Freedom and the rush of a challenge—it was what he’d lived for.
He had ended up here, in this strange world, because of a botched extreme skydiving stunt.
"Staying here pushing paper and doodling feels like death by boredom," he thought, a decision forming in his mind, quick and resolute. "I mean, I've already died once, so what do I have to lose? If they’re all too chicken to do it, I’ll go for it!"
With that, Ryan stepped forward, breaking the heavy silence.
"Commander, I volunteer to lead the training at the school!"
Every head in the room snapped toward him, their faces a picture of disbelief.
Michael Ross, the commander, raised a skeptical brow, staring him down. "You? And... who are you, again?"
