“Let’s go, Dad!”
Maisie Carlisle emerged, holding a clay pot in one arm and linking her other arm through Zion’s, her face beaming with joy.
“That’s my daughter!” Zion said with a slight smile, bursting with pride.
It must be said, Maisie Carlisle had a knack for understanding people’s psychology, accurately calculating that Flynn was Harriet Hamilton’s weak spot, and her threats were always on point.
With this miraculous medicine, my daughter will be the most beautiful princess in Shipmeda State.
I, too, will live a long life and achieve great things!
After the banquet, Flynn headed to The Edge Facility.
He had just called Faith McCarthy, who had picked him up last time and was now waiting at the base entrance.
“Instructor Mr. Clark, here is your access card. You can use it to enter and exit the base from now on,” Faith McCarthy handed Flynn a magnetic card.
Flynn, who had left in a hurry last time, claiming he would only teach for one day, had not been issued an access card by The Edge.
Hearing that it was Mr. Pearce’s daughter who had facilitated his return this time, Faith McCarthy was surprised.
Persuading him to come back must have involved calling in quite a few favors.
Flynn took the card and put it in his pocket, glancing at Faith McCarthy. Noticing her red eyes and dejected mood, he frowned and asked, “What’s the matter? Have you been crying?”
Faith McCarthy pursed her lips and replied, “Major General Reginald Shaw from the Kirin Special Operations Team is here.”
“So what if he is here? Did he yell at you?” Flynn asked.
Faith shook her head, “He didn’t yell, but…”
“What is it? Just tell me what happened!” Flynn demanded.
Faith sighed, “Reginald Shaw and Mr. Pearce were comrades in their youth, both serving in The Obsidian Tigers. On the surface, they appeared cordial, but in reality, they didn’t get along, especially Shaw, who targeted Mr. Pearce…”
Thirty years ago, Brandon Pearce and Reginald Shaw graduated from military academy and joined The Obsidian Tigers.
They were comrades for twenty-three years.
Both were ambitious, but Brandon Pearce always outranked Reginald Shaw.
When Brandon Pearce was a Lieutenant, Reginald Shaw was a Second Lieutenant.
When Brandon Pearce was a Major, Reginald Shaw was a Captain.
Reginald Shaw was particularly resentful, feeling that Brandon Pearce had leveraged his father, Elis Pearce’s connections.
Ten years ago, their conflict erupted.
Brandon Pearce’s wife fell ill and died while he was participating in military exercises, unable to see her one last time.
Reginald Shaw mocked Brandon Pearce for prioritizing his career over his dying wife, suggesting he was obsessed with promotions.
This led to a physical altercation, and both were disciplined.
The conflict intensified.
But the truth was-
His wife, not wanting to hinder Brandon Pearce’s career, had instructed her family not to inform him.
At the time, no one believed her illness was fatal. However, after a few days in the hospital, her heart suddenly stopped, and she could not be revived.
According to those in the know, Brandon Pearce went insane with grief upon learning of his wife’s death.
His once cheerful demeanor turned to one of silence.
On the day of mourning, Brandon Pearce, a grown man, fainted three times from grief.
For a while, he frequently visited her grave, weeping at her tombstone.
No one could console him.
He even contemplated retirement.
He loved his wife deeply.
Reginald Shaw’s cruel and selfish accusations were far from the truth.
Since then, Reginald Shaw had not toned down, constantly using the incident to mock and slander Brandon Pearce.
Seven years ago, both were chosen by different special forces units.
Reginald Shaw, with the rank of Colonel, became the squadron leader of the Kirin Special Operations Team.
Brandon Pearce, also a Colonel, became the chief instructor of Blade Special Forces.
This further fueled Reginald Shaw’s frustration.
Perhaps due to the strong foundation of the Kirin Special Operations Team, or sheer luck, Shaw was promoted to Major General three years ago, becoming the commander of the Kirin Special Operations Team.
Brandon Pearce, still a Colonel, was disciplined last year and remained at the same rank.
Reginald Shaw, now triumphant, never missed an opportunity to taunt him.
His reasoning was simple: “You, Brandon Pearce, always ranked above me, relying on your father. Now I’m a Major General, and you’re still a Colonel. Keep relying on your dad!”
“My Kirin Special Operations Team ranks in the top five every year, while your The Edge has been last for three consecutive years!”
Reality proves, I am better than you!
“You’re just a nepotist!”
Flynn understood.
The relationship between Brandon Pearce and Reginald Shaw was very much like that between the best and the worst students in a class.
One student excelled academically and received endless praise from teachers.
Another also performed well, but always in the shadow of the first, which left him feeling neglected.
Over time, this neglect brewed resentment.
Years later, after graduating and entering the workforce, the once praised student became the boss of the former top student, filling him with satisfaction.
However, Reginald Shaw’s reaction was more extreme.
It had turned into revenge.
Faith McCarthy lamented, “Reginald Shaw visits The Edge Facility every year.”
“This time, he brought ten subordinates, all experts from the Kirin Special Operations Team.”
“He claims it’s to assess The Edge’s standards, but it’s really to humiliate us.”
“They injured several of our members and disparaged The Edge as worthless.”
“They even called The Edge’s chief instructor garbage.”
“Mr. Clark, you must help us retaliate!”
Flynn responded indifferently, “If you’re incompetent, you deserve to be beaten.”
“Crying won’t help.”
“The Edge is indeed garbage!”
Faith McCarthy was stunned by his words.
Hey! She’s a woman, after all; there’s no need to be so harsh.
“Let’s go have a look,” Flynn said, seeing Faith’s distress. He thought better of saying more and headed straight to the training ground.
The Dragon’s Embrace and Tempering Draught were indeed fierce, but the team’s foundation was weak, with only half being Inner Force Masters, which explained their consistent last-place finishes over three years.
In less than ten days since my last visit, a hundred members had become Inner Force Masters, with Ethan Langley and Clayton Robinson advancing to Grandmaster-a significant improvement.
By the military exercise day, The Edge would likely have ten Grandmasters and fifty Semi-Grandmasters.
They should easily take first place.
But this year’s Camp Auston selection brought a major reshuffle of chief instructors across military districts.
They were either Great Grandmasters or Lesser Sovereigns.
Their teams were inherently strong and had improved dramatically under the Great Grandmasters’ guidance.
Compared to them, The Edge no longer had an advantage.
Flynn and Faith McCarthy quickly arrived at the training ground, only to encounter a middle-aged man with a scowling face.
He wore a military uniform, his epaulets adorned with golden foliage and a single star, indicating a brigadier general rank.
Behind him stood eleven young people in military uniforms, standing tall and proud, their gaze sharp and dismissive.
The Edge agents, facing them, looked neat but disheartened and clearly lacked confidence.
Ethan Langley and Clayton Robinson, bloodied, stood at the front of their group, fists clenched, eyes filled with defiance.
“Reginald Shaw, it’s just a competition; did your men have to be so ruthless?” Brandon Pearce asked coldly.
“Ruthless?” Reginald Shaw scoffed. “I’m just getting your men used to the pace. After all, the regional competition is ten times harsher than this!”
“If they can’t even handle this, how will they look then?”
“Even if The Edge can’t win, you shouldn’t just fall over immediately, at least put up a fight for ten minutes!”
After saying this, he scanned the Blade Special Forces members and shook his head:
“Brandon, The Edge used to be an elite unit, taking second place nationally six years ago. Now, it seems to have declined under your leadership.”
“With this level of skill, you’re not even fit to be sparring partners. Maybe you shouldn’t bother attending the military exercises, to avoid embarrassment.”
The Edge’s team members turned red with anger and frustration, helpless in their defeat.
In a place where strength spoke loudest, lacking skill meant deserving humiliation.
They approached the contest with confidence but were beaten decisively.
Their confidence was severely damaged…
“Also, Brandon, I hear your chief instructor has only visited The Edge Facility once, just like the Dowager Empress? Impressive! That’s quite a story to tell.”
“I’m puzzled, with such trash at hand, why haven’t you fired him?”