While Squad 4 was riding their high, Dick and his squad were at one of their lowest points. They hung their heads in shame, silently observing the swirling storm that was Dick’s facial expressions, worried that any sound they made would draw the first and biggest fire.
Dick’s cold eyes scanned their faces before he began, “So, which one of your geniuses suggested messing with Squad Four? Get your *ss up here.”
The Wolf’s Fang Squad’s members collectively lowered their heads even more. No one was willing to confess.
Dick snickered. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongues?”
More silence. The Dick they were dealing with right now was too terrifying to face, it was evident just how livid their instructor had become.
“Okay, then. Ten-thousand push-ups, no exceptions!”
The crowd turned as white as a sheet. Ten-thousand push-ups? There was no way they could manage that without their arms falling off by the end of it!
It was then when one of them gritted his teeth and decided to step forwards, declaring, “It was me. I started it, sir!”
Dick’s eyes snapped to meet his, and the soldier turned pale.
“Brilliant. Twenty-thousand for you, five thousand for the rest of you,” Dick replied, sneering as the young man’s knees wobbled like a serving of pudding.
The rest of the squad were just as shocked. They never thought that Dick would punish them so harshly. After all, their instructor had never before dished out punishments as severe as these!
“With due respect, sir, I don’t understand why we’re doing this!” Another member of the squad mustered the courage to speak up, “Why aren’t you teaching that newcomer his place? This isn’t like you at all, sir!”
“Yea, he’s right! That guy is new; he’s a rookie. You would’ve finished him off with your exemplary skills in seconds, sir!”
“Seriously, that was a public embarrassment. How are we supposed to face the other squads now?”
One by one, dissent and dissatisfaction broke out amongst the squad members. Dick, however, snuffed it out by slapping the table so hard that it disassembled into pieces of scrap.
An authoritative air emanated from him as he stifled every member of the Wolf’s Fang Squad with a thunderous growl, “You f**king dumb*sses! None of you would be breathing if I didn’t humble myself and beg for clemency!”
“Sir, again… With all due respect, that’s just hard to believe,” came a reply brimming with skepticism.
Dick met it with a nipping scowl. “Shut the f**k up. It’s the verdict, case closed. From now on, I want no funny business done against Squad 4, or I’ll personally break every bone in your body. Now get out of my sight!”
The squad members left the room and began eyeing each other with incredulity and bewilderment. A while passed before one of them piped up, “Are you sure our instructor hasn’t been cloned and replaced?”
“Come on, can’t you guys take a hint?” A more perceptive member replied, sighing, “He’s no match for that Larson punk. Why else would an old-timer cower before some rookie-*ss instructor who’s still wet behind the ears, huh?”
For the longest time, there was only silence. Someone broke it with a cautious query, “I mean… It can’t be, right? Our instructor is a superior-class, third-tier master fighter! He’s invincible, he’s gone on so many dangerous missions. He’s highly-celebrated, and he’s famous! Internationally-recognized and super famous! Meanwhile, that Larson guy’s what, nobody?”
“Well, who cares about the nitty-gritty? I know for a fact that our instructor’s got nothing on that Larson guy. Why else would things have ended up this way? If we’re smart, we’ll keep out of trouble and stay away from Squad 4.”
They were not dumb, so it did not take them long to come to such a conclusion. The room was filled with heavy sighs. They could not have been more regretful, had they known just how terrifying the new instructor was, they would not have picked a fight with Squad 4 in the first place.
Zayn’s stay in the Insurgent Trifecta was a lot longer than expected. He conducted a week-long devilish bootcamp for the members of Squad 4, which resulted in tremendous growth in their skills. It also made them realize the genuine severity of Zayn’s choice of the word “devilish”, as his regiment was nothing short of toilsome and torturous. There had been moments when the members wanted to give up, and it was Zayn who warded the thought away from them. He continued to incorporate more of his exercises. It was thought that he was trying to rebuild these soldiers from the ground-up.
And from his great effort, Squad 4’s opinion of Zayn was rebuilt along with it. He was an instructor from hell, through and through. They even started having recurring nightmares which saw no end, because that was how much trauma he had inflicted upon them.
Either way, the incident managed to bolster Zayn’s fame within the Insurgent Trifecta, before becoming a household name that spread outside of the organization. Now, even the other departments were aware of his existence.
It was last night. The Insurgent Trifecta’s upper-echelons were hosting a meeting that involved all of the high-level personnel.
“…It’s one of our most important missions. Eurasian business mogul Bassa Bell has dispatched his precious daughter, Marissa Bell, to talk about investment plans in Rheasia. According to our intel, Marissa’s become the target of multiple assassination attempts,” Liam began as he pointed at an image of a young, beautiful foreign woman on the screen, “Our superiors have delegated the mission of protecting Marissa to us, so what do all of you think? Who should we deploy as Marissa’s security detail?”
“Unfortunately, the combat instructor for the Dragon’s Blood Squad, Sergeant Constantine, was recently deployed on another mission,” Deputy Director Holden Campbell reported, “Which leaves trusty old Cheney to take up the job.”
Everyone around the table had their eyes fixated on Dick Missions of such high importance had traditionally been handled by Byleth Constantine or Dick Cheney, simply because they were the most capable.
Dick was about to nod in agreement when another name popped into his head. Changing his mind, he suggested, “I think I have a better idea: why don’t we let Sergeant Larson take up the mission instead?”