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The military is inherently a place of straightforwardness — what you say is what you mean, without so many twists and turns.
Moreover, the way Westerners express themselves in conversation tends to be direct and straightforward; strangers meeting each other don't go through many formalities.
At the commander Murphy's call, seven individuals stepped forward and greeted Long Zhan.
"Sean Barton, great to meet you. You've got an amazing physique. If you went to WWE, you could definitely beat those guys into the ground."
The first to come forward was a young man, bearing the lowest enlisted rank of E4 (Specialist/Corporal), his face lit up with the sunny smile of a boy-next-door.
"I'm not interested in playing the clown."
Long Zhan bumped fists with Sean and asked with a smile, "Is this your first time participating in actual combat operations?"
The U.S. Special Operations Forces have an unspoken rule: they must look "like ordinary people," ideally appearing contrary to the serious soldier image.
This approach benefits operations greatly, significantly lowering the risk of exposure.
Compared to domestic special forces that emphasize military appearance — where special operators standing around feel out of place in society — from a purely combat perspective, the American method is more suitable, increasing survival chances when operating behind enemy lines.
Additionally, special forces management is relatively free, giving individuals more personal liberty.
Veteran operators, having seen death and survival countless times on the battlefield, loosen up more in their personal behavior and lifestyle within the military, interacting more casually with superiors and subordinates alike — far less constrained than rookies.
Therefore,
Any counterterrorism special operations member who has spent over a year in special forces and has combat experience basically has tattoos.
Those without tattoos inevitably either have a big beard or messy long hair.
Put in domestic terms: unkempt, scruffy.
Sitting with legs crossed, propping feet up on tables or chairs, even sitting directly on the table — all normal behavior.
Only fresh recruits to special forces, the "newbies," jump around like monkeys every day, their faces shaved cleaner than a maiden's.
And both of these clear traits could be found on this Sean.
"Yeah, I've just joined the Navy SEALs less than two months ago. To be able to join a combat operation so soon — this is amazing, it's got me so pumped."
Sean spoke excitedly, gesturing enthusiastically.
When Long Zhan had just joined the Navy SEALs, his whole state was actually quite similar to Sean's current one — full of passion and anticipation for real combat.
Looking at the young and energetic Sean, Long Zhan saw his former self.
He couldn't help but pat Sean's shoulder, teasing, "Combat is indeed an exciting thing. But getting too excited and coming back wrapped in the flag — that's no good at all."
"No, I don't think that way."
Sean's smile faded, and he replied seriously, "Brave warriors do not fear battle or sacrifice. That's our proud tradition.
I will gather all my fighting strength and spill my last drop of blood to fulfill the mission and objectives assigned by my homeland."
"Good, dreams are good. Keep it up, haha..."
After hearing Sean's solemn speech, Long Zhan couldn't help but laugh.
It was just like a primary school student answering the teacher's question — "When I grow up, I want to be a scientist, a pillar of the nation, to serve the people."
Such words only impress kids. To adults, it's a joke.
"Hey, Barton, you should go change your diaper."
At this moment, a man about 1.75 meters tall with a beard walked over and teased Sean with classic American humor.
Such doctrinaire, fiery speeches were pure crap to veterans.
No matter how much talk there is, only actions count.
Then he extended a hand to introduce himself to Long Zhan: "Marcus Ruteller, Sergeant. Glad to have you join us. I hope this journey of ours—"
"Marcus?"
Upon hearing the name, Long Zhan's expression froze.
Murphy is a common American surname; seeing it here was nothing special, but adding a Marcus made this situation a real pain.
Though Long Zhan rarely watched TV or movies, the barracks had a library during his service.
As a military library, it naturally contained many military-themed books, among which *The Last Survivor* was the hottest.
Long Zhan had read that book multiple times back then.
Even though more than ten years had passed, and most details were now blurred, three things remained vivid in his memory.
One was the trigger event called "The Three Shepherds," the other was the heavy losses suffered by the supporting Navy SEAL team.
Lastly, the "main character" Marcus in the book.
This lucky survivor — the author of the autobiographical novel *The Last Survivor* — was a name Long Zhan found impossible to forget.
If hearing Marcus' familiar name left Long Zhan with any last shred of hope,
Then the next introductions — Danny Deets, Matt Axelson, Axl, and others — all names deeply buried in his mind, forced Long Zhan to accept the harsh reality.
"This damn thing is Operation Red Wings? That deadly operation? Damn it all to hell."
Long Zhan knew the danger of Operation Red Wings all too well, and how tragic the fate of the recon squad was — he felt utterly speechless.
If not for orders and being in the military, he would have bolted immediately.
Long Zhan's facial expressions changed dramatically, which Marcus and Murphy noticed and were puzzled, unsure what was going on in his mind.
Since it was their first meeting and the relationship wasn't close, they couldn't just ask outright.
So they exchanged a glance, tilted their heads in helplessness, said some polite words to Long Zhan, and then each dispersed.
At this time, Long Zhan was "shaken," burdened with heavy thoughts, with no desire to chat further.
He needed to quickly come up with a way to break through this.
So he found a spot to sit down alone, staring blankly ahead as if dazed — but in truth, his mind was already racing wildly.
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