The huge playground seemed to be baked by the sun and smelled of plastic. Freshmen wearing dark green military training uniforms barely stood in a neat formation, shouting slogans with drooping eyebrows.

With the powerful sound of «all disbanded» from the loudspeaker, the originally languid students were instantly resurrected with full health. Three strikes, five divisions and two divisions disrupted the originally neat team, and the students dispersed like birds and beasts.

Maxine took off the military training cap on his head. His hair, which was freshly washed last night and was fluffy and dry, was now wet with sweat and sticky.

She stroked her hair twice casually and combed it back into a relatively neat ponytail.

She had tanned several degrees during these days of military training, like a small black coal ball.

But she was not conspicuous on the playground.

After all, everyone stood together like a pile of briquettes waiting to be burned.