Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, I dragged my tired body and yawned into the training room, and saw a huge target standing at the end of the room, and a table with many throwing knives was placed near the door.I probably guessed one or two, today is another target training, but fortunately, it won't hurt you. Eric's face was ashen, and he stood upright in the center of the training room, his posture was stiff, as if his spine had been replaced with a metal bar.Seeing his appearance, I suddenly felt that the air around me became extremely heavy, oppressing me heavily.At least in the past, when he was lazily standing against the wall, I could still pretend that he didn't exist, but today he is standing in the middle of the room, no matter what, I can't pretend.

"Tomorrow is the last day of the first level test," Eric said, "you have to continue fighting. Today, you have to learn how to aim at the target. Everyone come and get three throwing knives." His voice was deeper than usual, "The fourth brother will show you the correct throwing knife skills. You have to watch it carefully and learn it carefully." At first, no one moved. "Take it now!" We rushed forward and each took three throwing knives.Even though they weren't as heavy as a gun, they felt weird and awkward in my hand, like I wasn't born to touch them.

"He's in a bad mood today," Christina muttered. "Is he in a good mood?" I whispered back. Of course I know what Christina means.Just judging from the vicious look Eric gave the fourth child when he was not looking, I guessed that last night's failure must have annoyed him more than it appeared on the surface.Winning a capture-the-flag contest is about self-esteem, and self-esteem is so crucial to the Dauntless that it trumps all reason and feeling. When the fourth brother threw the knife for the first time, I focused on observing his throwing action. When he threw the knife for the second time, my focus shifted to his standing posture.He is sure to hit every shot, and when he throws the knife, he will slowly exhale.

Eric ordered: "Line up!" Haste makes waste, this is a sentence my mother often said when she taught me how to learn female celebrities.I have to take this as mental training, not physical training, it tests mental quality more.So I spent some time doing empty-handed practice first, finding the best stance, and figuring out the correct throwing motion. Eric paced back and forth anxiously behind us. "I guess the zombie's head must have been broken." Pete booed.Several people stopped practicing to watch me laugh. "Zombie, do you remember what a throwing knife is?"

I ignored him and practiced the standard action with the flying knife in my hand, but I didn't throw the flying knife.I stared at the target intently, forgetting all the troubles caused by Eric's footsteps, Pete's taunts, and the eyes of the fourth child looking at me, cleared away all distracting thoughts, and then threw the throwing knife.I saw the flying knife whirling in the air and hit the target heavily. The tip of the knife did not penetrate the board, but I was honored to be the first person to hit the target. After Pete missed again, I couldn't help it and laughed.

"Peter, do you even remember what a target is?" I said. Christina, who was standing next to me, snorted twice at Pete in disgust, and the throwing knife she threw next hit the red heart. Half an hour later, Al was the only freshman who hadn't hit the target yet.Al's throwing knives either fell to the ground with a clang, or bounced off the wall.Everyone went to the target to pick up the throwing knife, but he was the only one looking for it on the ground. Try again, miss again.Eric walked over and yelled, "Honest man, how stupid are you? Do you need me to make you a pair of glasses, or move the target closer?"

Al's face turned red, he held back his grievances, and swung it again. The throwing knife whizzed and flew a few centimeters to the right of the target, spun twice, and hit the stone wall heavily. "What is this, freshman?" Eric said coldly, leaning slightly towards Al. I couldn't help biting my lip, something was wrong. "It... it... slipped," Al stammered. "Then why are you still standing there, you should pick it up." Eric glanced at the faces of the other freshmen—all of them stopped throwing—and shouted, "Did I tell you to stop?" The throwing knives began to thump at the target again.We are no strangers to Eric's angry look before, but this time it is different, his eyes are almost violent.

"Get it back?" Al stared at Eric with wide eyes, "but they are all throwing knives." "and then?" "I don't want to get hit." "I think you can trust your freshman companions, they are all more accurate than you." Eric smiled at the corner of his mouth, his eyes still cold, "I'll give you a chance to pick up your throwing knife." Al usually doesn't turn down requests from the Dauntless.I don't think he's afraid to say no, he just thinks it's useless to object.But this time, Al raised his broad chin, and he had reached the limit of his patience.

"I will not go." "Why don't you go?" Eric's bubble eyes stared at Al's face, "Scared?" "Are you afraid of being stabbed by a knife flying in the air?" He asked back, "Yes, I am terribly afraid." His fault was in his natural honesty, not in his refusal to execute. Eric might accept rejection, but he never accepted cowardice. "Everyone stop practicing." Eric roared. Everyone stopped throwing knives, and all conversation stopped.I gripped the small knife in my hand. "Clear the field." Eric stared at Al and said coldly, "You stay."

The throwing knife in my hand fell and hit the dusty ground with a bang.I followed the other freshmen to the side of the practice room, and they moved slowly in front of me, eager to watch the gut-wrenching scene of Al confronting a furious Eric. "Stand in front of the target," Eric said. Al's big hands trembling, stepped back to the target. "Hey, fourth," Eric turned his head, "how about doing me a little favor?" The fourth child scratched his eyebrows with the tip of the knife and walked over.There were dark bags under his eyes, the corners of his lips were tight, and his expression was full of tiredness and exhaustion. "You stand there and don't move, Four will throw these throwing knives," Eric said to Al, "until you learn not to back down."

"Is it really necessary?" The fourth child's voice was a bit annoyed, but he couldn't see it at all from his expression.His face and body were taut and alert. I clenched my hands into fists, took a breath, and secretly sweated for the fourth child.No matter how casual it sounds, he is questioning Eric.You know, he has never challenged Eric directly. At first, Eric stared at the fourth child without saying a word, and the fourth child also looked at him. As the minutes passed, I clenched my fists more tightly, and my nails almost sank into the flesh of my palm. "It's here that I have the power to decide, forget?" Eric said softly, I could barely hear his voice, "It's the same here as it is everywhere else." The fourth child's face suddenly changed, although his expression was still the same.He tightly held the throwing knife in his hand, his knuckles turned white, and turned to Al. My gaze moved from Al's widened black eyes to his trembling hands, and then to the firm chin of the fourth child. Anger surged in my chest, and I blurted out a word: "Stop!" The fourth child flipped the knife in his hand a few times, carefully sliding his fingers on the edge of the blade.He turned his head and gave me a sharp look, and I felt like I was almost petrified.I knew how stupid I was to talk in Eric's presence, not at all. But I continued: "An idiot will stand in front of the target and 'let mermaid'. Doing so can only prove that you are bullying freshmen. If I remember correctly, this is a sign of cowardice." "It should be easy for you, then, if you're happy to take Al's place," Eric said. The last thing I want to do is stand in front of the target, but now I can't back down, I drove myself to a corner.I made my way through the freshman crowd, and someone gave me a shove on the shoulder. "Be careful of your pretty little face being disfigured," Pete hissed. "Oh, I was wrong, you don't have that face either." Once I regained my footing, I made a beeline for Al.He nodded at me, and I tried to force an encouraging smile, but couldn't.I'm standing in front of the target, my head is not in the center of the target, but it doesn't matter.I looked at the flying knives in the hands of the fourth child: one in the right hand and two in the left. My throat was suddenly dry and unbearable, I tried to swallow my saliva, and then looked at the fourth child.I should trust him, he never does things rashly, I will be fine. I lifted my chin, determined.At this moment, I can't shrink back. If I shrink back, I will prove to Eric that this matter is not as simple as I said, and that I am indeed a cowardly person. "If you're scared," the fourth child said slowly and carefully, "just stand in front of the target with Al. Do you understand?" I nod. He still stared at me, then slowly raised his hand, elbow back, and threw the throwing knife.There was a flash of the knife in the air, and then there was a bang, and the flying knife was deeply inserted into the board, only a few centimeters away from my face.I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.Thank God. "Zombie, have you played enough?" the fourth child asked. I thought of Al's big eyes and his soft sobs at night, I shook my head and said firmly, "Not yet." "Then open your eyes." He tapped lightly between his brows. I stared at the fourth child in horror, with my hands clinging to my sides.He switched the knife from his left hand to his right.I didn't look at anything but stared into his eyes as the second knife hit the target above my head.This one was closer than the last, and I felt it hovering overhead. "Zombie, don't be brave," he shouted, "someone else will stand." what does he mean?Why do you always instigate me to give up?Is he trying to make me lose? "Stop rambling, fourth child." He turned the last throwing knife in his hand, and I held my breath.His eyes lit up, his elbows were thrown back, and the third knife flew up.It came straight to me, whirled in the air, and flew towards me with a whistling sound. The tip and the handle of the knife swirled alternately, making me stiff and cold.When the flying knife pierced the target, I felt a sharp pain in my ear, and the blood was itching on the skin. I touched my ear, and it was cut by the knife. From the way he looked at me, I knew he had achieved his goal. "I'd love to stick around and see if the rest of you are as bold as she is," Eric said flatly, "but I want to stop here for today." He squeezed my shoulder, his fingers were dry and cold.He smiled and looked at me as if to say that he deserves the credit for what I do and that anyone must listen to him.I didn't respond, nothing I did had anything to do with him. "It seems that I should pay more attention to you." He said. Fear spread through my body, tingling in my chest, in my head, in my palms.I always feel that the three big characters "divergent" are imprinted on my forehead. If he looks at me long enough, he will be able to see my identity and guess that I am a "divergent".But he just took his hand off my shoulder and walked away. Except for me and the fourth child, the others walked out of the training room one after another.I waited until everyone had left and the door was closed before I managed to take a look at him. "Your..." he began. "You did it on purpose!" I yelled. "Yes, I did it on purpose," he whispered. "You should thank me for getting you out of trouble." I gritted my teeth: "Thank you? Thank you for almost cutting off my ear? Thank you for always taunting me? Why should I thank you?" "Oh, you still don't understand what I mean, I'm a little tired." He gave me an angry look, and even when he was angry, his eyes still looked thoughtful.His eyes were special, a dark blue, almost black, with a patch of light blue in the iris of the left eye, near the corner of the eye. "Understand? Understand what? Understand that you want to prove to Eric that you are as cruel and sadistic as him?" "I'm not a sadist." He didn't yell, his voice remained calm.I am not afraid of his yelling, but I am afraid of his calmness.He bent down to get close to my face. At that moment, I remembered that during the personality test, I seemed to be facing a vicious dog with a fierce look and sharp teeth. "If I want to harm you, do you think I have to wait until now?" He asked back. After finishing speaking, he turned around and walked towards the door, the tip of the knife was slammed on the table, and the flying knife was inserted into the table with the handle facing upwards. "I..." I wanted to yell, but he had already walked out in a huff.I screamed in desperation, frustrated, and silently wiped the blood from my ears, heartbroken and unable to breathe.