Colonel Washington stood on the open space opposite, surrounded by a dozen scout members. After the last attack, both the rebel army and the Government Army suffered some casualties. After merging with the Kapa Military District, the two Colonels consulted and allocated reasonable responsibilities. Colonel Patton, familiar with the terrain, continued leading the combined patrol team for daily patrols, while Colonel Washington was responsible for the reserve of backup military personnel.
When Private 0 saw Colonel Washington, she was demonstrating basic Combat Techniques to the scouts in the military region. All youths over the age of fourteen in the military region must participate in this Combat Technique session. Besides the eight hours of practice during the day, due to limited visibility at night, the demonstration was held at the Free Market, which turned into a vast and flat training ground after the market closed at night.
It was a rare opportunity to see Colonel Washington demonstrating with one's own eyes; Private 0 had realized in their previous two encounters that Colonel Washington's hand-to-hand fighting skills were even more exceptional than her shooting skills.
Colonel Washington roared, "Private 0, step forward."
To some extent, Private 0 was still recovering from a serious illness, and she had the right to refuse this sudden command. However, recalling the humiliation from previous experiences and realizing that she might not even have a chance to seek revenge in a few days, she obeyed and briskly ran up to Colonel Washington, saluting.
The group of sixteen and seventeen-year-old scouts felt somewhat disappointed. Previously, Colonel Washington had only briefly spoken about the posture, and they had thought that when it came time for hands-on practice, they would be instructed personally by the Colonel. Only those soldiers who had faced life and death with Colonel Washington knew that she was exceedingly meticulous in her work; even a demonstration could not avoid being strenuous. Tonight, the sparring soldiers had briefly stepped away for patrol duty. Conveniently, Colonel Washington found herself in need of a sparring partner, or rather, a punching bag.
The two women, who had been eyeing each other critically for a long time, glared at each other. The women differed greatly in height by fifteen centimeters, and there was a substantial difference in their aura as they stood together, each saluting the other.
This battle was just the beginning, and the outcome seemed already determined.
Colonel Washington's yellow-green field uniform suddenly tensed, and Private 0 shifted her footing. A sweeping leg kick stirred up clouds of dust with a swift and fierce attack; if this were the former Private 0, she would have silently endured it.
Under the moonlight, the leg's wind turned into a chilling white light. Private 0 squatted down with both knees, her elbows vertically flipping out to block, causing a sharp pain in her hands. The force of the leg strike forced Private 0 to retreat a few steps. A fierce glare sparkled in her eyes, matching that of Colonel Washington.
"Watch closely, treat the enemy as ruthlessly as a devil; be quick with your hands and sharp with your eyes, but most importantly, your mind must stay clear," Colonel Washington continued instructing the scouts, her attention firmly fixed on the Private moving in front of her.
As a field soldier, she could feel Private 0's relentless spirit of defiance.
An interesting Private, Colonel Washington's index and middle fingers curved into a reverse hook, fast as lightning, the force sparking through the air, making the scouts instinctively cover their throats. Private First Class had to rapidly duck, springing like the coils of a spring, avoiding Colonel Washington's deadly strike.
"Choking targets the opponent's weakest spots. In any situation, one must protect all crucial parts of the body, such as the knees, abdomen, throat, and temples," Colonel Washington uttered a few words as her hands shifted again. Her feet, as if they had eyes, attacked the unstable stance of the Private.
Private 0 stepped back several paces. Colonel Washington's forearms twisted, tightly clamping Private 0's throat together. This technique called Choking hindered the airflow and reversed blood flow, making it impossible for the victim to exert any extra strength.
The scouts crowded around, admiring and looking up to Colonel Washington. After this battle, she remained composed in her military uniform, winning effortlessly, prompting them all to burst into applause. The throat-locking technique might be considered unorthodox, but its effectiveness was undeniable.
"I haven't lost yet," the subdued Private shouted from beneath her. Colonel Washington snorted coldly, applying even more force—inessential for crushing the windpipe of an adult Dinosaur. "Have you submitted yet?" The force exerted by Colonel Washington was enough to kill a grown Dinosaur.
"I won't accept defeat," Number 0 clenched her teeth, her arm bending at a startling angle, grappling Colonel Washington's abdomen from behind. Colonel Washington had her throat locked, while Number 0 had trapped the colonel's waist and ribs.
Number 0's face had turned the color of a purple eggplant, and Colonel Washington's face was changing between blue and red due to the effort and repeated blows. The two-hour scheduled practice session passed silently in a contest of throat-locks and counter throat-locks.
The scouts watching nearby were at a loss, not knowing whether to inform Colonel Barton. Just as one of them was about to call for help, they were sternly stopped by both the colonel and Number 0: "No one is allowed to call for reinforcement."
Colonel Washington and Number 0 still had the energy to yell at each other. Both of them had nearly exhausted their strength. At this moment, they were simply wrestling, seeing who could last till the end.
The moon was high in the sky, and at midnight, two female soldiers were clinging to each other, surrounded by a dozen stupefied scouts. The scene at Kapa Military District was painful just to watch, causing throats to ache and chills in the stomach.
As the moon stood high, Colonel Washington swallowed, "Private Number 0, I order you to stop."
Number 0 struggled to move her throat, "In the face of combat, everyone is equal. I won't listen."
"I'll count to three, and we'll both let go," Colonel Washington felt at least two ribs break around her abdomen. This damn low-class soldier was like rubber, extremely flexible and impossible to throw off.
"Okay," Number 0, also exhausted, agreed.
"One... two... three," Colonel Washington's arms relaxed. Suddenly, she felt a force on her abdomen, and her body was sent flying.
"Wars are full of deceit; take some time to study the Art of War by Sun Tzu," Number 0 gasped for air, laughing loudly.
"SON/OF/A/BITCH," Colonel Washington cursed. The completely fractured bones in her abdomen informed her that she would be bedridden for the next few days.
In the open clearing, two figures lay flat. Enduring the pain, Colonel Washington pulled out a cigarette and tossed one to Number 0, "Low-class soldier, you did well, very well." Vengeful, fearless, and cunning—truly a scoundrel. But, it's the scoundrels who live long lives.
"Thanks for the compliment." After letting out the resentment in her heart, Number 0 forgot the intense pain in her neck, which had nearly snapped. She bit into the cigarette, tasting a spicy sting, and couldn't help but spit it out.
"Thank you for saving the entire camp," Colonel Washington said, lying flat and smoking. Her voice, less authoritative than usual, carried a touch of relief from having survived a catastrophe.
After her thanks, a new line appeared in Number 0's mission book, "Awarded additional military merit by Colonel Washington, 500 points, total military merit, 1250 points. Deep understanding of the throat-locking technique, now permanently immune to throat-locking damage, military rank promoted to Private First Class."