This is probably one of those unresolved issues that has long existed among Type B commanders.
As a data analyst, should one remain cold and objective, or allow a certain amount of personal emotion to influence decision-making? Should one focus purely on statistical analysis, ensuring no mistakes are made, or become a soldier’s backbone, bearing the heavier weight of responsibility?
That said, shifting dangerous risks onto individual soldiers does not mean treating them as disposable weapons sent to the front lines to be sacrificed.
On the battlefield, if the situation calls for deploying mechs, it is absolutely impossible that only one mech would engage in a one-on-one fight with the enemy. Therefore, ensuring the integrity of the mechs themselves is also a way to guarantee sustained combat capability later on.
When one does not understand the tactics of direct combat and cannot influence the situation on the front line, the deputy commander makes arrangements from the most long-term and cautious perspective.
Even if such arrangements may be so harsh as to seem inhumane.
The students graded the papers in their hands with divided attention, thinking that a new round of debate was about to begin, wondering if this time there would be any exciting content.
This was the one downside of the Command Department – they were far too gentlemanly. Every argument eventually fizzled out into nothing. Unlike those single-celled organisms in the Infantry Department, who could escalate from a verbal spat to an online duel in the space of a single sentence: “Just you wait!”
The pace was so fast it felt like cheating, and the excitement was brilliantly thrilling.
Tao Rui’s narration was straightforward, with no hint of emotional fluctuation – just stating a simple, ordinary truth.
“A soldier’s primary objective should be to complete the mission. If a deputy commander hesitates and worries too much, it will only affect the soldier’s performance. As a commander, the first thing you must do is trust your soldier, isn’t that right? On the battlefield, do you really know their capabilities better than they do?”
Cheng Feng listened patiently. Although she wanted to remain calm, something still felt off in her heart. She coldly uttered two sentences, “If a commander cannot guarantee a soldier’s safety to some extent, why should the soldier trust the commander? Or do you think that’s unnecessary?”
Tao Rui said, “Soldiers are bound to face many dangers.”
Cheng Feng replied, “That’s precisely why risks need to be avoided as much as possible.”
Tao Rui frowned but remained calm as he said, “In the face of painful choices, sacrifice is necessary. I think everyone, from the moment they decided to become soldiers, has already prepared themselves to some extent.”
“Prepared for what?” Cheng Feng paused, the muscles at the corners of her mouth tightening and pulling downward slightly before she continued, “Isn’t the fear of death and love of life human instinct? To decide to become a soldier, must one first overcome one’s very humanity? But they didn’t choose to become soldiers for the honor of sacrifice.”
Tao Rui’s tone became more urgent. “You’re just twisting the argument!”
As the two faced off, the instructor on the platform suddenly interjected, “I have a question, Tao Rui.”
Tao Rui turned sideways and gave her a slight nod.
The instructor put down her hands from under her chin, thought for a moment, and asked, “The front line really does change in the blink of an eye. If you issue an order, but after a brief assessment, an individual soldier lacks the confidence to follow it – or rather, he believes he cannot carry out the mission – and as a result, his subsequent actions don’t match your predictions… after all, as you said, information is messy, everyone has their own judgment, and individual soldiers have their own thoughts as well. In such a situation, who do you think is right?”
She added, “Not limited to mech combat – I mean any dangerous operation: rescue missions, demolitions, reconnaissance, and so on.”
Tao Rui said, “He would be somewhat disqualified. Of course, I might be too. But dangerous missions don’t concern just one person’s life or death. Ideally, no one should choose to run away.”
The instructor smiled. From five or six meters away, half of her bright black eyes were shadowed by her long lashes, making them look very deep. She asked, “What do you think is the faith of war?”
Tao Rui hesitated slightly but still replied, “Victory.”
The instructor asked, “Cheng Feng, what about you?”
Cheng Feng froze, her expression briefly dazed. In front of her eyes flashed many numb faces, or perhaps a crowd of lifeless, rushing figures.
What faith could war possibly have? It could only breed countless unsolvable paradoxes.
A defeated city, a mercenary populace – together they painted an ugly picture.
Most people living in this world could casually sell and trample on their own dignity, struggling painfully at the bottom line of humanity, discarding any excess kindness and innocence, so they could mindlessly chase the chance to survive.
And those who participated in it desperately wanted to live, grasping for any reason to hold on, only to give up easily in the end. Who knew what convictions they had held when they first stood on the battlefield?
In such a terrible place, conviction itself was nothing but a luxurious and fragile thing.
Cheng Feng said in a low voice, “To stay alive.”
Tao Rui glanced at her upon hearing this.
The instructor’s gaze shifted between the two of them, and she asked, “Do you think that reason isn’t noble enough?”
Tao Rui’s voice also softened as he replied hesitantly, “It’s not that it isn’t noble – it’s too basic. If a soldier’s sole purpose is just to stay alive, with no other meaning, he cannot become an excellent soldier, nor one that his teammates can trust. He might make a mistake at some critical moment, choosing to save his own life and causing a situation that becomes irreparable.”
“Betrayal?’ The instructor nodded thoughtfully. ‘If he had previously earned many military merits, but in an uncertain situation chose to trust his own judgment and refused to follow your order, ultimately causing the mission to fail due to a miscalculation…”
“Merits and faults cannot cancel each other out. A mistake is a mistake. From the perspective of overall command, evasion is a mistake, and so is the fear of death. Moreover, the consequence of such a mistake is very likely that other teammates will have to bear it along with him. This isn’t just about responsibility – desertion is in itself a disgraceful act.” Tao Rui’s tone grew gradually more resolute and firm, until he spoke each word with emphasis, “Absolute obedience to orders is the fundamental quality of a soldier.”
Having said that, he cast a subtle glance or two at Cheng Feng, then deliberately softened his attitude, trying to blur the issue. “Of course, the vast majority of people never need to face such a problem. Because just doing the most basic statistical work is already enough to stretch them thin…”
He wasn’t good at changing the subject, and his later words became somewhat rambling.
No one noticed when a dark figure leaped directly over the long table and charged at Tao Rui. In a flash, the figure punched him square in the face.
The punch must have carried considerable force – Tao Rui stumbled back several steps, the world spinning around him as he lost all sense of direction. It wasn’t until he collided with the table in the back row that he finally managed to steady himself.
Before he could even collect his thoughts, still wearing a look of shock on his face and having no time to curse, he was tackled to the ground by the same person who had lunged at him.
The scraping sound of tables and chairs being pushed aside and frightened screams erupted around them simultaneously. Dazed by the harsh overhead lights, Tao Rui felt the pain from his body belatedly. Then, within a second, his rage boiled over like a volcanic eruption, burning away everything in the world except for Cheng Feng’s cold, frost-tinged face.
Tao Rui glared at the person before him, gritted his teeth, his expression twisting into a snarl. He clenched his fist, ready to fight back, but was first restrained by the students who had rushed over to break up the fight, pinning him firmly in place.
The scene was utter chaos; no one could even hear what anyone else was shouting.
After the two were pulled apart, Tao Rui was helped up from the ground by several strong pairs of hands behind him, and then held firmly around the waist, unable to move.
People kept saying things like “Calm down” and “Don’t get angry” from all sides, which only made his head feel as if it were inflating with pressure, nearly to the point of explosion – especially since Cheng Feng was still smirking at him provocatively from across the way.
“Have you lost your mind?” Tao Rui tasted blood in his mouth and snarled in fury, “What are you doing?! Are you sick?!”
Speaking the words pulled at his injured muscles, causing his expression to twitch in pain.
Cheng Feng shot back, “What do you know that gives you the right to look down from on high and call anyone disgraceful?”
The instructor strode down and stood between the two of them, shouting, “Both of you, shut up!”
Face flushed red, Tao Rui pointed at Cheng Feng and roared, “Isn’t a deserter disgraceful? If you’re afraid of death and hardship, then don’t join the military!”
Cheng Feng yelled back, “Of course you can stand up there all high and mighty, saying grand and hollow words – after all, you’re not the one risking your life. War sounds so light and easy coming from your mouth! Have you ever killed anyone? Have you ever held a gun? Can you sleep soundly among piles of corpses? Can you stand before someone’s grave and pay your respects with a clear conscience? Do you have any idea why all they can do is think about surviving? You don’t know a damn thing!”
“Both of you, shut up!” the instructor roared loudly. Her previous gentleness had faded into a cold, stern pressure, and even the glare she shot from the corner of her eyes carried a chilling murderous aura. “If either of you says one more word, I’ll shove your head into a bucket of water so you can cool off properly!”
The two fell silent, but neither could calm their tempers. They hung their heads low, their entire bodies radiating resentment.
Hasty footsteps in the corridor approached from afar. Just as the students exchanged helpless glances, Mr. Zhou suddenly pushed open the door and strode into the classroom, his face as dark as still water. When he took in the scene before him, he was so angry that he remained speechless for a long time.
He pointed at the two offenders’ noses and sneered coldly, “Well, well, the two of you. You dare to fight right here at the base? Who gave you the nerve?”
Cheng Feng freed herself from the hands of the person behind her and rubbed her shoulder.
Tao Rui was so furious that his tongue tripped over his words as he mumbled vaguely, “She hit me! She just attacked me out of nowhere!”
The surrounding students were so terrified that they didn’t dare make a sound. None of the UFU students spoke up to defend Cheng Feng, so Mr. Zhou knew the truth right away.
He let out a heavy breath and barked sternly, “Both of you, come with me!”
