Monsanto’s Past

The first time Meng Shan met Wyatt was during a rest and recuperation period in the rear. Wyatt’s father, a general, had brought him along to meet Meng Shan.

To be honest, Meng Shan’s initial impression of Wyatt was poor. He wore thick-lensed, round glasses, had a “bowl cut” that almost covered his eyes, a frail physique, and a slightly hunched posture. The only thing worth noting was his eyes—bright, intelligent, and curiously scanning everything around him. He didn’t have a shred of iron-blooded soldier in him; instead, he smelled of heavy academic air. He didn’t look like a general’s soldier son; he looked like a scholar’s student son.

The General’s reason for bringing him to Meng Shan was simple: he wanted Meng Shan to “toughen up” this disappointing son of his, who did nothing but hunker down at home tapping on a computer. According to the General, his son was incredibly lazy and had never undergone military training. He wanted Wyatt to join Meng Shan’s squad to pad his resume, making it easier to secure a comfortable, stress-free desk job in the military later.

Initially, Meng Shan wanted to refuse. Previous “gilded” youths from high society had at least received basic military training. Even if they couldn’t kill an enemy, they were physically fit and at least knew which end of a gun the bullets came out of. But the Wyatt in front of him… it would be a miracle if he didn’t shoot himself by accident.

However, just as Meng Shan was about to say no, the General named his price: an incredibly substantial sum of money and a promise to eventually form a Special Superhuman Task Force based around the Warrior Squad in the future.

It sounded like a lavish reward, but as the saying goes, anything that can’t be cashed on the spot is a “rubber check.” Unfortunately, Meng Shan, blinded by fame and fortune at the time, didn’t think of that. His mind was filled only with visions of the power he would wield over an even more formidable force.

So, Meng Shan readily accepted Wyatt and tossed him to the other squad members to look after. Along with the other noble children there to gild their resumes, Wyatt was kept in the safety of the rear as a “mascot.”

What Meng Shan didn’t expect was that Wyatt was nothing like the others. While the other rich kids spent their time eating, drinking, playing, and complaining about the filthy battlefield conditions while reminiscing about their luxury at home, Wyatt possessed a boundless curiosity about almost everything. Instead of sticking with the other nobles, Wyatt preferred to hang out with the formal members of the squad.

At that time, the Warrior Squad—including Meng Shan—consisted of 12 formal combat members. Every one of them had interacted with Wyatt. He would proactively ask about tactical details, equipment maintenance, and the personal stories of the veterans. Whenever he asked, the soldiers would explain things while teasing him, mocking him for not looking like a general’s son or joking about his lack of experience with women. Wyatt didn’t mind; he knew the veterans meant no real harm.

Waiting in the trenches at the front was a boring existence, but with such a “curious kitten” around, the dull hours seemed a bit shorter.

Soon, a month passed. The Warrior Squad had taken down three more superhumans. According to the original plan, it was time for Wyatt to leave. After a month of battlefield life, Wyatt looked much more mature—less childish, more resolute—but his eyes remained as bright and intelligent as the day they met.

Seeing his son unscathed and matured, the General was satisfied and prepared to take him home immediately. With three superhuman kills on his record, Wyatt had plenty of padding to secure his future military career.

To everyone’s surprise, Wyatt chose to stay.

The General asked him: “Wyatt, why stay? You used to hate being a soldier. You’ve seen the front—dead bodies and mud everywhere. There’s nothing to miss here.”

Wyatt replied: “Father, I do loathe war. I still do. But I realized something: while I hate war, I knew absolutely nothing about what it actually is. I used to think soldiers were cold-blooded killers, but after talking to them, I found they are just ordinary people of flesh and blood. I thought the battlefield was just a dirty slaughterhouse, but seeing it for real, I realized it is both cleaner and far more cruel than I imagined. So I choose to stay. I want to know what real war looks like. Because if I truly want to oppose and stop something, I must understand it completely.”

After much effort, Wyatt convinced his father. The General spent another large sum of money to keep him in the Warrior Squad. Before leaving, the General pulled Meng Shan aside and warned: “Don’t let this kid stay too long. Make sure he comes back crying, but in one piece.”

Ran Jiu’yi interrupted: “So, did you give him some kind of hellish ‘devil training’?”

“I guess so,” Meng Shan said. “I told him that if he wanted to stay, he had to keep up with our training and combat rhythm. We had two weeks of rest in the rear, and I wanted to use that time to force him to quit. So, on the first day, I demanded he train alongside us.”

“Did he keep up?”

“No. On the first day, he looked like he was dying. His stamina was pathetic. The morning drills alone left him looking like a dead fish. He was a coward, too—we fired a few shots near him, and he spent the whole night crying.”

Ran Jiu’yi scratched her head. “That’s a pretty terrible performance. You must have hated him for that.”

“Who wouldn’t? Wyatt had zero formal military training and wanted to go to the front. It was a suicide wish. Keeping him in the rear was one thing; sending him to a real battlefield and expecting him to come back alive was quite another.”

Meng Shan continued: “The first day was just an appetizer. On the second day, we cranked up the intensity. I told him he had to finish the same training volume as us, no matter how long it took. For him, it was an impossible task.”

Ran Jiu’yi asked curiously: “So, did he finish?”

“No, he didn’t. But he persisted until he had to be carried to the infirmary,” Meng Shan said with a faint smile. “Then, the next day, he went right back to training and was sent to the infirmary again. With that ridiculously stubborn willpower, on the very last day before we deployed, he finally finished the same training volume as the rest of us. Although, to be fair, a lot of the guys were secretly helping him ‘cheat.'”

“His persistence finally moved his father. The General dug deep into his pockets again, offered up more ‘goodies,’ and begged me to officially take him into the squad. I wasn’t happy about it. I admitted he had willpower, but the battlefield is a merciless place; willpower alone isn’t enough. Besides, if he died, I’d have the General as a mortal enemy.”

“Fortunately, the General promised me that if Wyatt died, he wouldn’t blame me, and he made that promise public so the whole army knew. If not for that, I would never have taken him.”

Once Wyatt truly joined the squad, he realized the previous drills were just the basics. There was so much he didn’t know; he couldn’t even execute basic commands correctly. Meng Shan and his teammates placed bets: most bet the kid wouldn’t last a week, or at least wouldn’t make it to the next rotation.

Things didn’t go as expected. Over the next three months, Wyatt survived, physically whole. Not only that, but even at the front where death could strike at any moment, he maintained his curiosity and thirst for learning. In just three months, he transformed from a useless shut-in into a qualified soldier forged in fire.

Slowly, the members of the Warrior Squad began to accept him. Meng Shan was no exception. He began to notice the young man’s potential and started assigning him formal tasks during operations.

By then, the war had entered its final year. The New Common Federation’s strength was overwhelming the Republic of Fudana, and victory reports were coming in from all fronts. Everything was moving in a positive direction—until one day, during a briefing, Wyatt proactively pointed out a flaw in Meng Shan’s tactical plan.

“So Wyatt was actually quite brave,” Ran Jiu’yi remarked. “Being a soldier for such a short time and daring to talk back to you.”

Meng Shan nodded. “Yes, he was brave. More importantly, he had the talent to back it up. I went back and scrutinized my plan, and I realized he was right. There was a loophole. A small risk, but one that could lead to catastrophic consequences.”

Ran Jiu’yi asked, “So you recognized his worth and started giving him more important tasks?”

“No.” Meng Shan denied her guess. “I started targeting him. I suppressed him. I deliberately sidelined him and assigned him to trivial, useless tasks. Because of Wyatt’s special status, my teammates thought I had recognized his extraordinary potential and was trying to protect him. Fools… I was clearly sabotaging him.”

“Why would you do that?” Ran Jiu’yi asked, puzzled.

“Because I realized his talent was terrifying. His potential was bottomless. I was jealous that he had a background far superior to mine and such incredible genius. I was afraid that if he were given more time to grow, he would become stronger than me and eventually take my place.”

Meng Shan sighed. “A childish and ugly reason, right? At that time, I believed my skills were unmatched among humans. I stubbornly believed the only things stronger than me were ‘non-human’ superhumans. When I actually met a person who might surpass me, my pride turned into jealousy and fear—horrible emotions that have no place in a leader or a warrior.”

“And those hateful feelings eventually led me to do something irredeemable.”