Everyone in my family knows that I have a well-organized and good job, but they don't know that I am exhausted every day.
At four o'clock in the morning, it's time for me to get up and go to work again.
The wake-up alarm was still the same as before, and I felt very, very excited when I heard it, "The enemy has five seconds to arrive on the battlefield, please be ready!"
I lazily got up, silently put on the blue uniform issued today, took my long rusty sword, and reluctantly lined up at the end of the line.
Other colleagues were very active and kept running forward, as if they didn't know what we were doing (we were rushing to die).
I don't understand why they are so active, just like they don't understand that I am a bad boy. In their words, if I kill hundreds of enemy soldiers, I can be promoted to a cannon truck and a super soldier, and I will have no worries about food and clothing for the rest of my life.
I have no interest in being a super soldier or anything like that. My ideal in life is to be an elegant canyon soldier. When I see the heroine, I lean forward slightly and say:
\"Hello, beautiful lady!\"
Concept: lighthearted short story