"Corporal Crayon V. Wyatt, Field dic!"
I stared at my garrison reserve enlistnt letter in my grimweb card, repeatedly reading my rank and role. What bothered most was that I had joined at the soldier rank; it would be hard for to get into the officer rank even if I were to reevaluate in the future. Unless I had achieved so significant rit, there was simply no way.
Though I was disappointed, honestly, I should be grateful for the rank and role assigned to . If my exam had ended like usual, ten points would only have landed a private rank. But since this exam ended unusually fast, fewer people passed the exam. Combined with my ultimate undying body and dical capabilities, I was enlisted as a Corporal and a Field dic.
Apparently, a field dic didn’t require a dical license, as they were not full doctors but the ones who kept people alive when everything was on fire, loud, and very inconvenient. Basically, jumping into the line of fire, dragging the wounded out, and patching them up. These guys usually operate using basic first aid cards and potions, the basic stuff.
"Wyatt, stop worrying. It’s not like staring at it hard enough will magically change your rank and role," Mary complained as we were seated at a table she reserved in a fancy cafeteria. It was one of her favorite spots in the city, the desserts here were to die for. She dragged along, even though all I wanted was to wallow in my own pity in my dorm—cut off, tucked away, and safe from the outside world.
Getting no response from , she was mad, but swallowing her anger, she tried to console , offering, "dics fall under a separate chain of command. What I’m saying is, I will get you assigned to my dical unit, so you don’t have to worry about being sent to the battlefield if, God forbid, the need ever arises."
Listening to Mary, I finally stopped staring at my grimweb card and glanced at her with teary red eyes, declaring, "I love you, you know that, my guardian angel. If not for the table, I would be kissing your feet right now."
"Stop being gross and loud. People are staring. I like this place; I don’t want to be banned," Mary remarked, feigning sternness, flustered by my words, but she was enjoying every bit of my flattery and admiring gaze. Her eyes scread, ’Praise more,’ giving her away, and I didn’t spare any, as she deserved it.
But her delighted eyes narrowed into a frown, and her dangling feet paused when I asked, "I know you are a lieutenant colonel, but you can do that, right? After all, it’s only an honorary rank."
Then her eyes wandered, avoiding mine, as she said, "So, what? I can put in a request for reassignnt when we are called for duty. But, even if they approve reassignnt, my hands will be tied if the higher command orders all dics to deploy."
"I take back everything I said, you phony guardian angel. If not for the table, I would be kicking your shin right now," I snapped at Mary for trying to cheer up by selling a false hope. She didn’t lie to , just wasn’t completely honest.
"How dare you? Just for that, we are splitting the bill. I’m not paying for you," Mary imdiately went on the offensive, hitting right where I was weakest.
"You can’t do that. I can’t even afford water here. Twenty G-coins for a bottle of water? Does it co with gold or sothing?" I shouted, waving my grimweb card displaying the cafeteria nu, and looked at the unsealed bottle of water on my side of the table and wondered if it was too late to return it.
"Then wash the plates to pay, for all I care," Mary mocked , and the smirk on her face grew wider. "And that’s gion-infused, mineral-rich water. Twenty G-coin is cheap for it."
"I would, but I don’t think they would let clean their plates by hands," I spouted the truth; a high-end place like this used cards for that stuff, as it was simpler, easier, cleaner, and more appealing.
Our eyes locked in an intense staring contest before we both burst into laughter.
...
"Harrison, do you know who it is this ti and why they are here?" Col. D. Blade asked the city’s Grimmyth Research Institute’s chief director, Harrison Hawthorne, upon arriving at his lab.
"The sa old, another one of the big organizations that want to use my grim cypher to test their findings, theories, or hypotheses," Harrison answered with a helpless sigh as he poured his friend a glass of his finest liquor.
These big organizations were willing to pay big bucks for his help, but the problem was he had already abused his grim cypher enough and was suffering from its side effects. That was why he left the high-paced life of the Starox Prefecture and moved to Skyox City to be with his family. Yet, people wouldn’t leave him alone. They all wanted to use his grim cypher and were willing to pay any price he nad, even willing to do anything to get him to help them, failing to understand the risks.
"Let us hope they get deterred by the city commander, or this might turn ugly fast," Mark Payne’s voice sounded as he walked into the lab, having overheard their conversation.
The reason both deputy commanders of the city were here guarding Harrison Hawthorne and not at the conflict site with the city commander was that, in the past, a squad of legendary grimlocks tried to kidnap him and almost succeeded, if not for the city commander running interference.
"I don’t understand why these guys keep doing these pointless attempts. They can never change my mind. Even if they kidnap , I can’t give them what they want. I’m old and dented. I no longer have it in ," Harrison said nonchalantly, speaking like a person had accepted his retirent. His true fear lied elsewhere, that the world might discover Crayon V. Wyatt.
Chief Director Hawthorne had never intended to take Crayon under his wing. He had only helped him during their first eting on a passing whim, unwilling to let the kid endure what he once had. He had simply done what he wished soone had done for him when he first beca a grimlock. No asure of wealth, fa, or authority was worth the fast paced, self-sacrificing life he had lived. He never expected the kid to bloom into soone with so much raw and extraordinary potential. And that only made him more worried for the kid.
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