Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 1370 - 661: [2]

Fortunately, both the "Cooking Skill" and "Concentration" are just a step away from leveling up.

Once the military training is over and I’m back home, with a bit more effort, I’m confident I’ll soon receive the enhancement rewards.

"Destination reached! Release!"

With the instructor’s loud shout, Fang Cheng’s thoughts were interrupted, and a series of dull thuds sounded on the beach.

Logs fell one after another, kicking up sand clouds half a person’s height.

The newcomers collapsed on the sand like wind-up toys that had run out of power, panting heavily for air.

Fang Cheng stood in place, hands on his knees, breathing in sync with the others.

The instructor strolled forward leisurely and suddenly blew a whistle.

"Beep——"

"Third squad, attention! Stand up, form ranks!"

Upon hearing the orders, everyone could only drag their sore muscles, struggling to get up and form three lines.

The instructor clasped his hands behind his back, slowly scanning the fatigued faces with his eyes, his tone unusually gentle:

"Congratulations, you’ve made it through the last day. Today’s log carrying run was your graduation assessment, and your training is now officially over!

"Meet at the field at eleven o’clock to hear the headquarters’ leaders’ speeches, pack your belongings, and you can leave the base at any time!"

There was a two-second silence among the crowd, followed by a deafening cheer.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, jokingly putting their arms around each other, as the accumulated fatigue and oppression of the past days dissipated completely.

Fang Cheng also straightened up, stretching his shoulders and neck.

He wasn’t bothered by the exhausting training; he just felt that playing house with this bunch of newcomers was a waste of time, significantly delaying his usual training progress.

Half an hour later, in the third squad’s dormitory.

The room was filled with a strong smell of sweat, and the iron bunk beds creaked noisily as they were shaken.

With the training finally over, everyone was in a good mood, and the room was filled with voices chatting, laughing, and joking.

All were busy stuffing various daily items into their suitcases or standing shirtless on the balcony, haphazardly pulling down clothes hung outside to dry.

"Brother Fang, I owe you one for pulling me up on the beach today, or I might have lost a couple of teeth."

The bespectacled young man from earlier had just finished his shower, his hair still damp, wiping the droplets with a towel as he walked over.

His name was Lin Chen, and he was assigned to the Research Department for pharmaceutical analysis work.

Usually, he was very gentle and introverted, barely able to speak a word in front of strangers, but he got along well with Fang Cheng.

During these seven days of training, he was always behind Fang Cheng, calling out "Brother Fang" almost as if treating him as the backbone in this unfamiliar environment.

Fang Cheng paused from folding clothes, looked up and smiled:

"It was nothing. But you should hit the gym to strengthen your lower body more, instead of sitting in the office all day staring through a microscope. A healthy body is the greatest asset."

"Brother Fang is right, I’ll definitely work out more when I get back."

Lin Chen nodded in agreement, casually draping the towel around his neck.

A crew-cut young man next to them, who was trying very hard to fit a camouflage jacket into his duffel bag, overheard and joined in:

"Brother Fang, your physique is incredible. It’s really a pity you’re not applying to the Action Department or Intelligence Department but the Medical Office instead."

"Those front-line roles have way better perks and allowances and are easier to get promotions and awards."

The crew-cut young man was Zhao Qiang, and despite his rugged and solid appearance, he was an elite student from a prestigious university, assigned to the Brainpower-focused Advisory Department.

He was a straightforward Northeasterner, quick to speak and very straightforward.

During the shooting practice a few days ago, his semi-automatic rifle jammed, making him anxious and sweaty.

Fang Cheng happened to be in the lane next door, and he casually helped him clear the mechanical fault, quickly building their camaraderie.

At this moment, hearing what was said, Fang Cheng put his neatly folded clothes into his bag and casually replied:

"The front-line departments earn the money by risking their lives. I have no big ambitions, just looking for stability. The Medical Office is relatively easygoing and suits me just fine."

Lin Chen glanced at Fang Cheng, turned, and walked to the bedside cabinet.

He tore a page from his notebook, picked up a pen, and scribbled down a string of numbers and an address.

Then he came back and handed it over with both hands:

"Brother Fang, here’s my phone number and address. If you have time in the future, you can always come to the Research Department to see me."

Fang Cheng saw this and didn’t refuse, taking the note and slipping it into his pocket, casually giving out his phone number in return.

Seeing them exchange contact information, Zhao Qiang, naturally not wanting to fall behind, quickly pulled out his phone:

"Yes, yes, yes, add me as a friend too. We’ll all be mixing in the headquarters courtyard later; we’ll see each other often. More friends, more paths."

He followed Lin Chen in saving Fang Cheng’s number to his contacts and gave his number to the two of them, then loudly said:

"Brother Fang, Chenzi, once we’re settled with our jobs, we must find a time to go out for a meal, my treat!"

Fang Cheng nodded with a smile:

"No problem, let’s keep in touch whenever we’re free."

Seeing someone take the lead, the newcomers from the Administration, Organization, and Finance Departments joined in, taking out their phones to exchange contact information.

The departments of the Special Search Team are relatively independent, and although the Medical Office is part of logistics, no one can avoid minor ailments and injuries.

Plus, Fang Cheng is warm-hearted, highly skilled, and showed exceptional physical fitness during training, making him someone people naturally want to connect with.

After all, they’ve eaten, lived, and trained together with the instructor for seven days; this natural camaraderie among colleagues would be the first step in building their network within the Special Search Team.

In the lively atmosphere, Fang Cheng adeptly handled everyone’s greetings while efficiently packing his folded clothes into his bag.

At noon, after the speeches by the leaders ended.

The base canteen provided the last simple meal as usual, but Fang Cheng didn’t want to stay even a second longer.

The training camp food, to put it nicely, was filling and carb-rich.

To put it bluntly, it was simply various vegetables and minced meat thrown into a big pot and cooked messily, hardly better than bland soup.

After eating this kind of food for seven days, he now just wanted to quickly call a taxi, return to the city, find a decent restaurant, order some hearty dishes, and properly satisfy his long-craved stomach.

Outside the entrance of the Special Search Team coastal base.

Fang Cheng carried his heavy luggage, stepping onto the asphalt road towards the roadside.

Ma Donghe, using the excuse of his leg injury not yet fully healed, found connections for special leave and just hung around the camp for two days before slipping away.

As for Hou Peng, right after the noon breakup, he was dragged by colleagues from the Intelligence Department for a meal, too busy to break away.

Fang Cheng came out alone, which he enjoyed in silence.

This base is built on the edge of a remote coastline, surrounded by nothing but barren land and wind-resistant shrubs.

Due to confidentiality reasons, there’s not even a single household nearby, and the nearest bus stop is two kilometers away.

He walked to the roadside under the shade of a tree, took out his phone, and was about to call a taxi.

"Roar——"

A deep engine roar came from afar, suddenly breaking the quiet of the suburbs.

Fang Cheng looked up, only to see a sleek, silver luxury sports car slowing down by the roadside towards him.

The tires made a slight friction sound on the asphalt before smoothly stopping in front of Fang Cheng.

The car window slowly rolled down.

Cold air spilled out from the cabin, revealing a handsome face.

Those deep-set eyes carried a hint of a lazy smile, with features so refined there was hardly a flaw, even showing traces of subtle makeup.

This appearance would rival top celebrities on the screen.

The driver placed one hand on the leather steering wheel and turned to look at Fang Cheng, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth:

"Where to? Need a lift?"

Fang Cheng recognized the face, a hint of surprise in his eyes:

"Cheng Jiashu?"