Foster father

10

The next morning, the team members began packing up their gear. Only Carter Vaughn didn't have to lift a finger and assigned all the trivial tasks to Oliver, leisurely assembling his weapons.

"Not only did you get yourself a son, but you've also got yourself a little servant," Joe couldn't help but say with envy.

Carter Vaughn proudly lifted his chin.

Oliver, overhearing this, pouted in dissatisfaction. As he was eating breakfast, he quietly squeezed the strawberry jam he'd hidden in his pocket into Carter Vaughn's shoes.

Once Carter Vaughn finished packing the heavy weapons into the crate, he took out a few thick English books and tossed them in front of Oliver. "In the next few days, we'll be on the road, so no time for training. Just memorize these words. Five hundred a day, and the error rate can't exceed 5%."

Oliver picked up the books and glanced at him dismissively.

Carter Vaughn ruffled his soft hair. "Hey, you're getting a temper. Don't want to eat?"

Oliver swatted his hand away, and with a stern face said, "I'll complete the task. You have no reason to punish me."

Carter Vaughn flashed a wicked smile. "Then you'd better pray that I’m reasonable."

Oliver bit his lip. After spending some time with Carter Vaughn, he had come to understand that the man was unpredictable. He had already mentally prepared himself for the possibility of going without food.

Carter Vaughn secured the luggage rack and then got into the vehicle. Oliver swiftly hopped into the vehicle as well.

Their custom-made military Humvee had no footrests. Two months ago, the vehicle’s ground clearance of over forty centimeters had made it necessary for Oliver to crawl up using both hands and feet. Now, though, he could jump up with one hand holding the book while the other steadied himself.

During these two months of painful training, physical changes were perhaps not the most noticeable. The most obvious change for Oliver was that he had accepted his reality. He no longer naively begged Carter Vaughn to take him home, nor did he try to move anyone with his tears. He didn't cry or beg for mercy when he was starving because he knew it was all useless.

His adoptive father was a cold-hearted devil with no mercy, a man who acted based on his whims. Today, he might give him bread, but tomorrow he could kill him. Oliver knew he had to survive and grow stronger if he ever wanted to escape his clutches and return to his parents.

Once he psychologically admitted his current situation, he had resigned himself. He could only grit his teeth and accept whatever Carter Vaughn arranged for him. At the same time, his rebellious feelings towards Carter Vaughn grew stronger.

Carter Vaughn constantly taught him that only the strong could do whatever they wanted, while the weak were meant to be dominated. Oliver often wondered: if one day he could defeat Carter Vaughn, could he reverse the roles and dominate him? Could he deny Carter Vaughn food, make him do endless training, and even have him wash dirty shoes and stinky socks? The thought of one day bullying Carter Vaughn the way he had been bullied had become another of Oliver's psychological pillars, besides returning home.

This time, nearly thirty people from their mercenary group came, and after excluding the three who had sacrificed themselves in the previous mission, the remaining members filled eight vehicles. In Carter Vaughn’s Humvee, besides Oliver, there were Joe, Dino, and Pell.

While Joe was driving, the others were idle, supervising Oliver’s studies.

Their convoy of off-road vehicles stood out too much, as they took paths no ordinary person would use—always choosing the roads less traveled, sometimes even only able to take rough dirt roads. The bumps were so severe that by the end of the day, everyone felt like their bones were about to fall apart.

Among everyone, Oliver was the most comfortable. He spent nearly the whole day being cradled in Pell’s arms. A woman’s soft body made the best cushion, and both Joe and Dino were extremely jealous of him.

Without the cold, horrifying corpses and tedious knowledge, this was the first time Oliver had been so close to Pell. It felt very novel to him. He had never been around someone with such a feminine temperament. Even the one female servant he had growing up was muscular and strong. His mother, too, was nothing like Pell—she kept her hair short and looked more like a man.

But even though his mother was different from women like Pell, even though he saw her only a few times a year, he still missed her day and night. He often dreamed about that night when a bunch of men in green military uniforms burst into their house. Everyone was armed with guns and had large shields. His mother, with red eyes, shoved him into a helicopter and told the pilot to take him away, never to return.

He couldn’t understand why, within just a few months, he had fallen from being a pampered little master to being among this group of people. He didn’t even know what they did; he only knew that many of them, like Carter Vaughn, were terrifying.

Compared to the rough men like Carter Vaughn, Pell seemed much gentler in Oliver's eyes.

That night, as they were setting up the tent, Oliver hesitated and shyly told Pell that he wanted to sleep with her.

Pell froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Carter Vaughn immediately became displeased, grabbing Oliver by the collar and lifting him up. "Every man here wants to sleep with Pell. Who do you think you are?" In reality, he didn’t care who slept with Pell. What mattered to him was that without Oliver acting as a mosquito repellent, his night would be unbearable.

Carter Vaughn said this in English, causing everyone to burst into laughter. Oliver's face turned bright red as he glared at Carter Vaughn, shaking his little fist and shouting, "I don’t want to sleep with you! You snore, and you roll over and crush me!"

Carter Vaughn grinned, showing a row of sharp, white teeth. "Do you think you have a choice? You must sleep with me." With that, he dragged Oliver into the tent.

Because it was just a temporary camp, many tents were cramped with three or four men. Except for Pell, only Carter Vaughn and Ael had their own tents. Though Carter didn’t have an official position in the mercenary group, his strength and his brotherly relationship with Ael earned him great respect within the team.

Oliver had never experienced what it was like to sleep in a cramped tent with three or four men, so he didn’t know how lucky he was to sleep with Carter Vaughn. Though he never thought of it that way.

Carter Vaughn was a terrible sleeper. He snored, and his limbs were restless. Oliver often found it hard to breathe in the middle of the night and would wake up to find Carter’s arms and legs pinning him down. Sometimes, he would be pushed to the edge of the bed or even kicked off it. If he tried to move Carter Vaughn or resist, more often than not, he would be woken up by Carter, who would point a gun at his head.

For Oliver, getting a good night’s sleep was a matter of luck. Fortunately, he was small, so a little space was enough for him to sleep. But what would happen when he grew up? That thought left him feeling anxious.

The next two days passed uneventfully. As planned, they would enter the forest area on the evening of the third day. The road would be difficult, and the weather was not ideal. They would have to decide whether to camp outside the forest or go deeper and sleep inside once they arrived.