Chapter 42 Mechanical Action

He picked up a wooden bucket at random, closed his eyes as if going to his death, and thrust his hand into the thick, nauseating filth.

Cold, slick, disgusting.

Countless sensations surged wildly through his arm and flooded his brain.

Wang Ba’s face turned the color of a pig’s liver.

Clenching his teeth until they nearly shattered, he scooped out the foul sludge bucket by bucket and emptied it into the specialized nightsoil cart.

Once, and again.

He wanted to use these mechanical movements to numb his own nerves.

Yet the more he tried to numb himself, the more clearly Xiao Zhan’s words echoed in his mind.

"All brawn and no brains, that’s just a dumb pig!"

"A dumb pig belongs in a pigsty!"

Pigsty...

Wang Ba glanced at the latrine, a smile twisting across the corners of his mouth that was far uglier than tears.

Indeed.

Wasn’t this place precisely a pigsty?

And he himself was the most foolish pig of all.

On the drill ground.

Night had already fallen.

Bonfires were lit, illuminating the entire drill ground as bright as day.

Yet no one felt any warmth.

There was only endless exhaustion and bitter cold.

"I can't take it anymore... I really can't go on..."

A soldier broke down completely. Tossing the components in his hands aside, he burst into bitter sobs. "Just kill me! I'll go shovel nightsoil right now! I don't want to stay here anymore either! My hands... my hands are going to break!"

His breakdown acted like a spark, instantly igniting the negative emotions of everyone present.

"Snap!"

Another man, consumed by agitation, snapped a vital component in half.

Staring at the broken piece, he stood utterly stupefied, before unleashing a despairing roar of his own.

The shadow of failure loomed over everyone's heads.

At that moment, Xiao Zhan moved.

He stepped down from the commanding platform and walked straight toward that corner.

He walked right up to "Nimble Fingers," who had been standing there motionless ever since receiving his reward.

Everyone assumed Xiao Zhan was going to reward him again or assign him some new task.

Instead, Xiao Zhan spoke, "Nimble Fingers."

"Sir, present!" Nimble Fingers jolted, instantly straightening his back.

"From now on, you are their instructor." Xiao Zhan pointed at the more than two thousand nine hundred soldiers teetering on the edge of collapse.

"Huh?" Nimble Fingers was dumbfounded.

Make him instruct these men?

Any one of these men plucked at random was taller and bulkier than he was! Several of them had even bullied him in the past!

"Sir... I... I can't do it..." Nimble Fingers’ voice trembled.

"I say you can, so you can." Xiao Zhan’s tone allowed for no objection.

Turning around to face the defeated crowd, he said coldly, "Listen up, all of you!"

"From this moment on, every word Nimble Fingers utters carries the weight of my command!"

"If anyone dares to disobey, if anyone dares to show even the slightest bit of disrespect..."

"Bang!"

He abruptly drew his Desert Eagle and fired a shot into the sky!

The thunderous gunshot struck like a heavy hammer, slamming mercilessly into everyone's heart!

"Feel free to try."

With that, Xiao Zhan turned and walked back up to the commanding platform, leaving behind a bewildered Nimble Fingers and a crowd of soldiers with complicated expressions.

Have them take orders from a scrawny monkey?

Have them learn from someone they had previously looked down upon with utter disdain?

A fresh, far more complex wave of humiliation welled up in their chests.

However, no one dared to object.

Nimble Fingers stood there, feeling the weight of over two thousand mixed gazes, his palms drenched in cold sweat.

He was so nervous he felt like he might faint.

Yet the moment he caught sight of that cold, imposing figure on the commanding platform, an inexplicable surge of courage welled up from the depths of his heart.

The commander trusts me!

I cannot let him down!

Taking a deep breath, Nimble Fingers walked over to the soldier closest to him, who was blankly staring at a pile of components.

That soldier was a full head taller than him, with arms thicker than his own thighs.

Looking up at him, Nimble Fingers mustered the greatest courage of his life, and in a trembling voice that strived to remain calm, he spoke:

"You... you've assembled this part wrong."

The burly soldier abruptly raised his head.

He glared at the "instructor" standing a head shorter than him and shivering slightly, a flash of disdain and anger crossing his eyes.

Make him listen to this skinny monkey?

Just as he was about to hurl an insult, he caught a glimpse of the demon-like figure on the commanding platform, calmly wiping his silver handgun.

The words "Who the hell do you think you are?" were forcefully swallowed back down his throat.

His face turned beet red.

In the end, he squeezed a single word through his clenched teeth: "Where?"

Frightened once more by the soldier's fierce expression, Nimble Fingers quivered, but nonetheless summoned his courage, reached out with his deft hands, and pointed at a mechanism.

"Here... the latch here should... should be pulled outward first, then lifted upward, instead of... instead of forcing it." His voice was as soft as a mosquito's hum.

Dubious, the burly soldier tried doing as Nimble Fingers had instructed.

"Click."

A soft sound echoed.

The latch that had stubbornly refused to budge despite all his strength was now effortlessly removed!

The soldier froze.

He stared at the tiny component in his hand, then looked back at Nimble Fingers. For the first time, his gaze shifted.

From contempt to astonishment.

"And here too," seeing that his method worked, Nimble Fingers grew a bit bolder. "This spring cannot be put straight in. You have to hook it onto this small catch first, and then... then push it in."

He demonstrated again.

The spring that had always inexplicably flown off this time snapped securely and steadily into its designated position.

"So... that's how it is..." the burly soldier muttered to himself.

A look of sudden realization dawned on his face.

This entire scene was witnessed by all the surrounding soldiers.

They hesitated no longer, nor did they cling to any pathetic notion of pride.

In the face of the horrifying prospect of shoveling nightsoil, dignity was worth less than dirt!

"Instructor! Over here! My part is jammed!"

"Instructor Nimble Fingers! Come take a look at mine!"

"Over here! This way!"

In an instant, cries for "Nimble Fingers" echoed across the entire drill ground.

Nimble Fingers had transformed into the busiest and most popular man in the arena.

His initial nervousness quickly faded into growing confidence.

He was no longer afraid of those towering soldiers, but instead moved adeptly among the crowd, using his magical hands to solve one difficult problem after another.

"Look closely, everyone! This part is called the hammer! Its principle is..."

"Remember! Do not use brute force! You must understand its structure! Work along its grain!"

Nimble Fingers' voice grew louder and more fluent.

He discovered that teaching others deepened his own understanding of the weapon even more than assembling it himself.

And those soldiers transitioned from forced compliance to genuine, enthusiastic learning.

The atmosphere on the drill ground shifted imperceptibly.

The frantic, despairing tension gradually melted away.