Chapter 179 – The Graduation Party
Today, many pioneers entered the base. Most of them looked travel-worn, much like Tu Ran and her two companions.
In contrast, the new batch of pioneers, all dressed in brand-new, impeccably pressed combat uniforms, and sporting meticulously styled hair, appeared completely different. They were all around eighteen or nineteen years old, the age when, in her world, one would just be graduating from high school and preparing for university entrance exams.
Each of them wore expressions filled with hope and dreams for the future, along with an ambition to make a name for themselves across the entire Federation. The banquet hall, which had been transformed from the usual training ground, was brightly lit, shining as if it were daylight.
Tu Ran and her companions found seats specifically arranged for the previous batch of pioneers. This area was set up for about five hundred people, but less than half of the seats were occupied. Some pioneers were still within the Threshold, while others had been assigned to distant states and couldn’t make it back. Only those from neighboring states were present.
The attendees were scattered sparsely throughout the area, which stood in stark contrast to the bustling, fully occupied section where today’s main guests were seated, making their own section seem particularly lonely and desolate.
On the high platform of the training ground, sitting on luxurious chairs, were figures of leadership. Both men and women were present, all dressed in bright attire with radiant expressions. As they looked at the pioneers below, genuine, joyful smiles graced their faces.
How could they not smile? Tu Ran thought secretly. So many more people were now willing to risk their lives for them. If it were her in their place, she would wake up from sleep laughing too.
Among those leaders, Tu Ran spotted Xie Zhao. He was seated right in the center. As the overall commander of the Pioneer Team, the one who single-handedly drove the team from proposal to establishment to successful operation, it was fitting for him to sit in the main seat.
At that moment, the host of the party was inviting him to give a speech. No matter the world, such tedious formalities were inevitable. Fortunately, they had arrived more than half an hour late, and Xie Zhao was the last to speak, as the final highlight of the event.
The training ground fell silent. The previous restlessness that accompanied the earlier speeches was now gone.
Everyone sat quietly and respectfully. There was a deep sense of respect for Xie Zhao, the overall commander.
“The previous instructors have said a lot to boost your morale, so I won’t repeat the same things. I want to say something different,” Xie Zhao began, pausing for a moment as his gaze shifted toward the sparsely occupied seats of the first batch of pioneers, where Tu Ran and her two companions sat.
“There aren’t many pioneers from the previous generation here,” he suddenly remarked, as if speaking to himself.
With this comment, the second batch of pioneers all turned to look in that direction, noticing for the first time these weary-looking seniors.
“Do you know why so few of them are here?” Xie Zhao’s eyes returned to the eighteen and nineteen-year-olds before him.
“Not enough time?” one of the young men in the audience answered loudly.
Xie Zhao chuckled softly. “That’s one reason; they are indeed very busy.”
“Too proud to return?” A young woman stood up, her words resonating with others.
Indeed, it was just a graduation party—what was so important about it? Once they became official pioneers and left the training base, there would be no more rules to bind them.
During their downtime, they could go wherever they wanted. Who would want to waste time coming back for a graduation party?
“That reason… might also exist,” Xie Zhao’s voice grew solemn. “But it’s not the main reason.”
“What is the main reason?” someone asked, curious.
“For the past five years, your instructors have exposed you to only positive things, filling you with endless hope. They’ve made you believe in your profession, trust that the title of pioneer will bring you immense glory, and think that your future is bright.”
“But we have never told you what has become of the previous batch of pioneers.”
“What do you remember most about the previous batch of pioneers?” Xie Zhao asked as he looked out at the crowd.
“Is it their unattainable achievements, the records they set that no amount of training could break? The farthest distance for long-range sniping at 3460 meters, the unmatched combat skills that allowed one person to fight all the instructors for 35 minutes without defeat, the record for evading AR species for 27 days, or the shortest time for a 40-kilometer weighted sprint? There are many more.”
The hall was silent. Everyone listened intently, their minds drifting back to the moments of their five years of intensive training, deeply immersed in Xie Zhao’s steady voice.
“Some of those records you have already surpassed, and some remain out of reach.”
“But aside from these figures that you’re aware of, there are others that I have kept hidden from you.”
Xie Zhao lowered his gaze, picking up the electronic screen that had been placed in the center of the table.
All eyes were on him, hands unconsciously clenched in anticipation. Although they didn’t know what the commander would say next, the mixture of excitement and nervousness about the unknown made them collectively eager for him to continue.
“The number of graduates from the first batch of pioneers was 2,261.”
“As of today, the day of the second batch’s graduation, the confirmed number of remaining members is 576.”
“The confirmed number of deceased is 134.”
“The number of those who have failed to exit the Threshold more than twice is 1,021.”
Xie Zhao lifted his head. “You should all understand what it means to have failed to exit the Threshold more than twice.”
It meant a 95% mortality rate.
The hall fell into a deathly silence.
In just one year, nearly half of those brilliant pioneers from the previous batch had perished.
If they, with all their excellence, had died in such numbers, what did that mean for the current batch?
A chill ran through everyone’s hearts.
But Xie Zhao didn’t stop.
“The number of those severely injured and in a coma with no signs of regaining consciousness: 16.”
“There are 514 individuals not accounted for in the statistics; they just entered the Threshold yesterday. Their fate is unknown, and we will need to update the data once they return.”
“There’s another set of data—the Medical Department’s report on the medical treatment statistics for our pioneers over the past year.”
“Let me read out a few simple figures for you.”
“The average number of times each person used the nutrient pod: three.”
“You might not be very familiar with the nutrient pod,” Xie Zhao said, raising his head to explain. “The use of the nutrient pod is expensive. In most cases, it’s only recommended by the Medical Department when injuries are life-threatening or when there’s something more important that needs to be handled quickly, requiring rapid healing.”
Hearing this, Tu Ran squinted her eyes. Really?
Her recent uses of the nutrient pod were purely because it provided quick recovery, and since she had a year of free access, she figured she might as well use it while she could.
However, she remembered that the first time she used the nutrient pod, it was indeed recommended by a doctor in the Medical Department.
At that time, she didn’t have any pressing matters to deal with.
So, it must have been because the injury was severe.
She had bumped the back of her head.
She recalled it only hurt a little.
She never expected it to be that serious.
Meanwhile, Xie Zhao continued reading off the data without pause.
