Following the stairs up, Rain reached the third floor. The hallway was long, lined on both sides with identical metal doors.
Before he even found Room 307, a thick, almost eye-stinging stench of cigar smoke forced its way into his nose.
His steps halted. His brows knitted tight at once.
"This smell… is someone burning trash in the hallway or what?"
Instinctively, he picked up his pace, wanting to find his room as quickly as possible and get away from this area. But the further he walked, the stronger the smell became, like the source was right ahead.
He stopped.
Right in front of him was the dorm door marked "307."
And that nearly solid, choking wall of smoke was pouring stubbornly out from the crack under the door.
Rain stood there in silence.
"Is there… a human-shaped mobile incinerator living in there?"
He took a deep breath and, with the same grim resolve you'd have opening a mystery loot box, slid the key into the lock.
What greeted him wasn't a dorm room—it was a smoke-filled "fairyland."
The light was warped by the murky haze, visibility barely three meters. The air reeked of cigar smoke mixed with sweat, so strong it almost made him cough on the spot. The room was a complete mess: food wrappers, empty bottles, balled-up rank socks… scattered everywhere.
In the middle of this "wonderland," a figure took shape.
Wild white hair. A sleeveless white tank top exposing solid muscles. Two cigars, both lit and spewing dense smoke, clenched arrogantly between his teeth.
Rain was instantly filled with a familiar, "I knew it" sense of dread and an incoming-headache level of annoyance.
Yeah, no mistake… that signature white hair, that suicidal smoking habit… this has to be the future 'White Hunter' Smoker.
"Great," he thought expressionlessly. "First day of orientation and I'm bunking with a humanoid exhaust pipe. So much for a peaceful year."
While Rain was silently complaining, the figure heard the door open. Without even looking back, he barked in a harsh, impatient voice:
"New guy? Close the door. You're letting the smoke out."
Rain inhaled slowly, suppressing the urge to turn around and leave. He decided to try the "reasonable conversation before violence" route with this walking chimney.
He shut the door, set his only bag down on the only patch of floor that didn't look contaminated, then put on a friendly, harmless smile. Taking a step forward, he greeted:
"Hey, I'm Rain. Starting today, I'll be your roommate."
He paused, then asked politely, "Um… I'm not great with smoke. Do you think you could maybe smoke on the balcony or in the hallway instead? It'd be better for both of us."
Smoker turned his head slowly. His sharp eyes, full of open disdain and judgment, swept up and down Rain.
"Hah?" He snorted like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world, then drew in a deep pull from his cigars and blew a thick cloud of smoke straight into Rain's face.
"Don't like it? That's your problem." Smoker jerked his chin toward the door, his tone dripping arrogance. "This is my turf. I smoke wherever I damn well please. If you can't handle it, go sleep in the hallway."
Rain's smile didn't change—but behind that choking haze, his eyes went ice-cold.
Still in that calm tone, he tried the "rules card":
"According to the Marine Recruit Training Camp Dormitory Regulations, Chapter 3, Article 7, smoking is strictly forbidden in the dorm area. I'm just reminding you not to break the rules."
This was a lie.
Rain had no idea if such a regulation existed. But he was pretty sure Smoker had even less interest in reading that kind of thing, so he just made it up on the spot.
"Rules?"
Smoker reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He exploded instantly, leaping off the bed and getting so close their faces were almost touching. His presence crashed down like a wall as he growled:
"Don't shove that bullshit rulebook at me! In my world, fists are the only rule!"
Before the words even finished, his entire lower body suddenly turned into a seething mass of thick white smoke. It roared out like a living tornado, filling the cramped dorm in an instant and swallowing Rain whole.
"Since you love talking rules so much," Smoker said, upper body still solid, a wild grin on his face, "I'll have a nice long 'discussion' with you!"
The next second, the smoke-tornado blew the dorm door wide open, wrapped around Rain, and blasted them both into the hallway.
Rain didn't resist at all. With his current strength he could fight back, but there was no guarantee the room wouldn't be wrecked. Taking this outside was fine by him.
The smoke whirled them out into the corridor, and the commotion immediately drew every neighbor's attention.
Doors cracked open all along the hall. Heads popped out, eager to watch the show.
Rain even spotted a tall woman with pink hair, about Smoker's height, long legs wrapped in Marine uniform slacks, drawing more attention than anything else in the hall.
Her face was expressionless, but her lazy, "here for the drama" eyes flicked over the scene.
Wait… that spectator is a woman? Rain's thoughts veered sharply off course.
So the Elite Camp has mixed-gender dorms? Has Marine HQ's culture gotten that liberal?
The smoke in the hall slowly dispersed as Smoker re-solidified. He cracked his fists, joints popping loudly, and flashed a provocative grin at Rain.
"Brat, say it again. What was that you were mouthing off about? I didn't quite catch it."
Catcalls and whistles rose from the watching recruits.
Just as things were about to explode—
"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!!!"
A thunderous roar detonated from the far end of the corridor, making everyone's eardrums ring.
A massive, broad-shouldered instructor appeared there without anyone noticing. The lower half of his face was inked with a black tattoo shaped like the jaws of a Sea King, and his eyes were so vicious they looked ready to eat someone alive. His expression alone was enough to make kids cry.
The gawking recruits vanished into their rooms like startled rabbits. The hallway went from packed to empty in an instant.
The "Iron Jaw" instructor stomped up to them in a few strides. He took one look at the almost solid smoke pouring out of Room 307, then at Rain and Smoker locked in a standoff, and his brows twisted into a knot.
"Very good… looks like you two have plenty of energy."
A savage grin spread across his face.
"In that case, go spend it in the detention room and 'bond' properly!"
He jabbed a finger toward the stairwell and barked in a tone that brooked no argument:
"You two—right now. Get your asses to the brig! Nobody leaves until tomorrow morning!"