The red lights on the corridor ceiling continued to flicker, casting a haunting crimson hue over the pale faces of the cadets. The dormitory hallway, once as silent as an empty tin can, was suddenly packed with rows of weary youths. The sound of boot soles scraping against the concrete echoed like a long, exhausting funeral procession.
However, the atmosphere softened slightly when Jean appeared at the end of the hallway. Most cadets breathed a sigh of relief. In Peterumman, Jean's presence was a blessing; if it had been Varkas standing there, this corridor would have already turned into a cold interrogation room.
"Sergeant Varkas is unable to attend due to an emergency call of duty. For now, and for the next two days, I will be taking over as the substitute instructor," Jean's voice echoed, calm yet commanding.
One by one, the cadets stepped forward to receive their final dinner rations from Jean's assistants. Yet, everyone's eyes were fixed on an object beside Jean: a thick, tightly sealed cardboard box.
"As I promised," Jean glanced toward Unit 009. "This reward is for the unit that achieved the highest score today. Subject 015 (Zilla), step forward."
Zilla stepped out. As she tried to lift the box, her arms trembled slightly. The box was much heavier than she had expected. "Amae, Nugia, help me," Zilla commanded with a sharp glance.
Instantly, a mixture of envy and awe filled the hallway's atmosphere. Amae, who had been wincing from the bump on his head, suddenly straightened his back. The pain seemed to evaporate, replaced by a bursting sense of pride. The hallway became noisy again—a tin can filled with the envious whispers of other units.
"SILENCE!" Jean roared.
In a snap, the corridor fell silent again. "That is why you must be the best. Every day, I will give rewards to those who push beyond their limits! Let this be the fuel for your spirit!"
Jean's words were like gasoline hitting a fire. The other cadets, previously lethargic, now stared at Unit 009 with a different look—ambition was starting to burn.
"For tomorrow's activities, Cycle 04.00: morning laps are increased to 20! I will record who is the fastest," Jean continued. She then gave a thin smile toward Reyna, Zilla, and Meyra. "And for marksmanship practice... I will no longer include it in the reward evaluation. Because if I did, no other unit would ever stand a chance of winning!"
Muffled chuckles were heard from several corners. Jean was provoking everyone.
"Go finish your meals in your rooms. Enjoy, and I'll see you at the starting line tomorrow morning!"
As the door to Room 009 closed and locked automatically, the tension from the corridor immediately collapsed. Zilla, Amae, and Nugia placed the heavy cardboard box in the center of the floor with a heavy thud.
"Open it, Zilla! Hurry!" Meyra urged, kneeling in front of the box.
Zilla ripped the seal off the cardboard in one breath. As the lid opened, the aroma of instant seasoning, chili powder, and a very strong savory scent immediately rushed out, filling every corner of the room that previously only smelled of soap and sweat.
"Sultan... Noodles..." Zilla whispered. Her voice trembled, almost like someone witnessing a world miracle.
Inside, ten premium instant noodle cups were neatly lined up. There were flavors like Spicy Grilled Ribs, Special Chicken Curry, to Abundant Seafood. Between the cups, Jean had tucked in five premium chocolates along with five shiny metal spoons—not cheap plastic ones—and five bottles of cold soda still dripping with condensation.
"Is this really for us?" Amae approached slowly, his voice barely a whisper.
"Jean said it's a reward. That means it's rightfully ours," Zilla replied, handing the spiciest flavor to Meyra—a tactic to keep the 'dictator' calm.
Nugia lifted a cup of noodles toward the light, rotating it with a furrowed brow. "The shape is strange, it doesn't look like food. It's just dry, hard objects inside, but the aroma... it's very tempting," Nugia said innocently, sounding as if he were performing an autopsy on a foreign artifact.
"You don't know instant noodles? My god, Nugia! You have to learn from me!" Meyra exclaimed, immediately standing up haughtily. She suddenly took over Amae's role as the "know-it-all," bragging as if instant noodles were her greatest invention.
Behind Meyra, Amae couldn't help himself. It seemed the silly boy held a personal grudge larger than his fear of a 650 Newton punch. Silently, Amae acted as Meyra's shadow. He mimicked every hand movement Meyra made, pouted his lips to match Meyra's lecturing mouth, and occasionally rolled his eyes in a very accurate mocking gesture.
Zilla and Reyna struggled to hold back their laughter. Their shoulders shook seeing Amae acting as a "pantomime" behind a serious Meyra, who was explaining the history of noodle-induced bliss to an indifferent Nugia.
"Why are you laughing?" Nugia asked flatly. His gaze remained on the cup in his hand, completely ignoring Meyra's long-winded rambling.
"Hey! Pay attention to me!" Meyra forced, pulling Nugia's chin to look at her. She tried to look as cool as possible, like a hero who had just brought fire from the mountain. "Instant noodles... they are like treasure that can only be found behind the walls of PETERUMMAN by lucky people!"
Meyra felt something was off. She felt a strange vibration behind her back. "Amae, why are you doing that?"
Instantly, Amae jumped to grab a broom near the bed. With lightning speed, he pretended to sweep the floor diligently, as if his life depended on the cleanliness of the tiles. "What? Sweeping! I'm sweeping, Meyra! Didn't you say this room has to shine?" Amae replied in a voice that was far too high-pitched.
Meyra narrowed her eyes, her suspicion peaking. She turned to look at Zilla and Reyna, who had now buried their faces in their pillows, trying to stifle laughter that was about to explode into noise pollution.
"Something's not right..." Meyra muttered, her fingers starting to clench again. "Zilla, Reyna, what's so funny?"
Reyna, the shy girl, looked at Zilla with a plea for help. "Reyna..." Meyra hissed, making the girl sweat nervously. "Answer me, why are you laughing?"
"Enough, let's eat!" Zilla cut in, her face still fighting back laughter.
That night, time seemed to move slower, as if the universe of PETERUMMAN was giving them a special dispensation. Their dinner boxes sat side-by-side with the instant noodle cups, which looked beautiful under the dim dormitory lights.
The sharp aroma of the seasoning—a blend of savory, spicy, and the scent of kaffir lime leaves—was like a poison that made the worms in their stomachs writhe with heat. Thin steam danced over the surface of the reddish broth, bringing a warm glow that caressed their tired faces. Each slurp produced a sound that echoed in the quiet room, a melody of pleasure that was incredibly rare behind these concrete walls.
"Delicious!" Nugia said briefly after slurping his noodles awkwardly yet greedily.
He stared at the remaining broth in his container as if looking at a miracle. For the stiff Nugia, the savory explosion on his tongue was more real than any combat simulation he had ever undergone.
"Right? Told you so!" Meyra chimed in proudly, wiping the broth from her lips. "Instant noodles are treasure!"
Nugia went silent for a moment, staring deeply at the pieces of noodles on his fork, as if he had just discovered the world's greatest secret. "Treasure... so this is that treasure, Mey," the innocent youth said with a tone of utter sincerity.
Meyra returned to being the wisest teacher, brushing off Nugia's innocence—or perhaps she just didn't know.
Zilla, Reyna, and Amae could only look at each other. They could no longer respond to Nugia's absurd yet honest train of thought. They could only nod in unison, not because they agreed with Nugia's theory, but because the delight of the noodles had taken their tongues hostage.
Behind the door of Room 009, PETERUMMAN no longer felt like a prison that night. That night, they were just five human children who felt wealthy just by the warmth of rising noodle steam.
CYCLE 21.00.
A soft green glow finally lit up in every corner of the room, lowering their eye nerves which had been in need of a "recharge" like a dimming bulb. This was an absolute command to rest. For the cadets, the green light was the only mercy in PETERUMMAN—a sign that they were allowed to close their eyes and forget the world for a while.
Unit 009 had already collapsed onto their respective beds. Inside the darkening room, Amae's snoring was the loudest, contrasting with the hallway's silence which was now like a concrete graveyard.
However, in one of the dimly lit office rooms, the silence was broken by a low whisper. The room was cold, decorated only by a few framed photos of a 4-year-old blonde girl smiling cheerfully—the only color in that rigid room.
"Some of the children are showing unusual talent, Lord Vier," said the man in the room, his fingers holding his daughter's photo frame.
A video call hologram appeared, showing Lord Vier casually playing golf in a luxurious room that was perhaps as large as an entire dormitory sector.
"Keep monitoring them," Lord Vier replied without taking his eyes off his golf ball. "I received news that Scarlett and Valky are starting to touch my toys. Is it true?"
The man bowed, the shadow of a scar on his face clearly visible in the screen's glow. "Forgive me, Lord Vier. Lady Scarlett forced her way in. I did not expect her to investigate Project Executioner this deeply."
"Calm down, Lion. She won't be able to do anything," Lord Vier swung his club, a perfect swing. "And one more thing... that scrap instructor of yours seems to be starting to injure subjects who haven't even been tested yet! Warn your member, Lion!"
Click.
The hologram screen died instantly. The room was swallowed by darkness again, leaving only a thin green glow creeping in from the crack under the door. Lion stood frozen in the dark, his eyes staring sharply toward the dormitory hallway door.
"Varkas..." he hissed coldly.
Lion squeezed his daughter's photo frame, then slowly placed it face down on the table, as if not wanting his daughter's innocent eyes to see what he would do next.
Tomorrow, 20 laps of morning running were only the beginning of the actual hell.