Foster father

08

Carter Vaughan slept until dusk. Recently, with good food, rest, and recovery, even with his injuries, he still felt full of energy, as though he had come back to life.

After waking up, he felt a bit hungry. He got up and went outside to find something to eat. As soon as he stepped out of the tent, he saw Oliver lying next to a laundry basin, sound asleep.

Carter Vaughan paused for a moment, then remembered that he had asked the boy to do the laundry. He frowned as he looked at the clothes still soaking in the basin and kicked the child.

The boy fell to the ground, then slowly got up, rubbing his bleary eyes and looking up at Carter Vaughan.

Carter Vaughan gave him a dark look.

The boy seemed to suddenly snap awake, glanced at the clothes in the basin, and his face filled with grievance. "I don't know how to wash clothes."

"When you learn how to wash them, then you can eat," Carter Vaughan retorted coldly. "Until then, you're going hungry, useless."

Not bothering to deal with the boy anymore, Carter hobbled off to the logistics tent to find something to eat.

He came back with half a roasted goose and a can of beer, then limped back to his tent, sitting cross-legged at the entrance to eat.

Oliver stared at the golden, oily roasted goose with his eyes shining, his throat swallowing saliva involuntarily.

Carter Vaughan tore off a leg of the goose and started eating quickly. He washed it down with beer, the aroma filling the air and making the boy hungrier. But Carter knew that the child would never soften his heart because of the boy's whining or pleading. Oliver looked at him eagerly for a moment, then, feeling wronged, climbed up from the ground. He stretched out his small hands into the laundry basin and began moving the heavy military jacket back and forth in the water.

Carter Vaughan sneered. "Step into the basin and stomp it with your feet. You can't even wash clothes. I don't know why I’m bothering with you."

Oliver’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly as he tried to hide his emotions. He jumped into the basin and angrily stomped on the clothes beneath his feet.

Carter Vaughan smiled cruelly, chewing and slurping as he finished half the roasted goose.

The boy continued to stomp, tears falling one after another into the water.

Carter Vaughan was getting increasingly irritated by the boy’s constant crying. When he was a child, he had endured much worse, but he didn’t cry like this. It was frustrating how the boy thought shedding tears would earn him sympathy. Such naivety was infuriating.

Carter Vaughan growled, "Take the clothes out and wring them, then hang them on the line over there."

Oliver wiped away his tears, pulling the heavy jacket from the basin. But he didn’t have enough strength to wring out such a large item. Not only did he soak himself, but the jacket also dragged on the ground, getting dirty again.

Carter Vaughan impatiently snatched the jacket from him, rinsed it under the water pipe, then wrung it out and hung it on the clothesline. Afterward, he kicked his boots in front of Oliver. "Clean the shoes," he ordered, then went back into the tent.

The sun quickly set, and Carter Vaughan turned on the small light in the tent, sitting on the bed while cleaning his gun. Soon, he heard the faint sound of crying coming from outside.

He couldn’t be bothered and continued polishing his beloved gun, wondering where to start training the boy. Physical training was a must, but getting him to learn English quickly was also important. Otherwise, he would be like a mute in this place. This area had no internet, and the only chance to get textbooks was when the supplier sent someone next week.

After finishing, Carter Vaughan put the gun away, stripped off his clothes, and crawled into the mosquito net, ready to sleep.

Their temporary base was set up in a valley, and after the sun set, it became a paradise for mosquitoes. Since Carter Vaughan's blood type attracted them, it didn’t matter that they didn’t threaten his life; being bitten made his whole body itch, a sensation worse than being shot. So, whenever there was nothing going on, he usually hid inside the mosquito net.

After lying down, the crying outside still hadn't stopped. The sound was small but persistent, a continuous whimpering that was incredibly annoying. It kept Carter Vaughan from falling asleep.

He tossed and turned in bed for half an hour, but sleep eluded him. Frustrated, he got up to take care of the child.

Stepping outside, he found Oliver crouching by the door, wiping shoes and crying. His little face was covered in tears, his voice hoarse, and he looked especially pitiful.

Carter Vaughan snapped, "Are you done crying yet? All you do is cry."

Oliver glanced at him but continued sobbing.

Carter Vaughan grabbed him roughly and yanked his clothes off.

In the weather of July and August, it was still warm at night. Carter Vaughan intended to leave the boy outside to cool off, letting him be bitten until he screamed. Then, Carter would see if he still dared to cry.

Oliver sobbed and hiccupped, not understanding why Carter was taking off his clothes. Having grown up pampered, he instinctively felt shame about being naked and tried to tiptoe to retrieve his clothes.

Carter Vaughan let go, and the clothes immediately fell into the basin, getting soaked through. He snorted, "If you have the guts, you can keep crying. Stand outside all night then."

With that, he tightened his own clothes and ran into the tent. In just a short time, he already felt his arm being bitten.

He crawled into the mosquito net and tried to sleep.

But the crying outside only stopped for a moment before starting up again. It sounded just like mosquitoes buzzing around his head, incredibly annoying, to the point where Carter Vaughan wanted to slap him.

The back and forth continued for another half hour, and finally, Carter Vaughan couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d never met any creature as annoying as this child.

He wrapped himself in his jacket and got out of bed, deciding to take some other measures. He stepped outside and, walking to the central campfire, glanced at Oliver’s body, which left him very surprised.

At first glance, he couldn’t find a single bite mark on the child’s skin.

Carter Vaughan squatted down and checked the boy thoroughly, front and back. He really didn’t find any mosquito bites.

The child had been standing outside, naked, for half an hour, yet not a single mosquito had bitten him? Carter Vaughan recalled their time in the forest; the boy had been ragged and dirty then. He hadn’t paid attention to these details at the time, but now that he thought about it, the boy’s skin was completely unscathed, and none of the bugs had bitten him. How could this be?

How could someone be born immune to mosquitoes? What was this child’s blood made of? This was simply unscientific.

Carter Vaughan stared at Oliver with suspicion. The boy, frightened by his stern expression, stopped crying and fell silent.

He picked the boy up and went back into the tent. Once inside, he checked the light carefully again and confirmed that the boy truly was a natural mosquito repellent.

The boy’s big, bright eyes nervously looked at Carter Vaughan, not understanding what was happening.

Carter Vaughan made up his mind, opened the mosquito net, and threw the boy onto his bed.

Once the boy was on the bed, he immediately curled up, clutching the blanket to cover his body.

Carter Vaughan grabbed his little leg and pulled him over. "Stay still." He lay down on the bed, "Don’t move, just lie beside me."

Oliver hesitated for a moment, then lay down next to him, whispering, "Uncle, I’m so hungry."

"What do you call me?"

"…Dad."

"Endure it. You haven’t finished your task."

"Can I finish it tomorrow?"

"Then you can eat tomorrow."

"But I'm so hungry."

"Want to avoid starving? Then prove yourself. Now shut up and go to sleep."

The child pursed his lips and didn't dare say anything further. He lay still for a while, but couldn't help but crawl into Carter Vaughan's arms. During the days in the forest, he had always slept curled up in Carter Vaughan's embrace. Even though they had escaped danger now, for a five-year-old, his heart had not been freed. He instinctively sought out a place that would give him comfort and security.

The child's soft, slippery body pressed tightly against Carter Vaughan, and Carter felt this touch was oddly amusing. He almost wanted to laugh. Although it felt a little hot, he didn't push the child away. He certainly didn’t want to spend the night with crying in his ears.

As Carter Vaughan expected, he had a peaceful night of deep sleep until dawn. Despite the mosquito net being wide open, not a single mosquito disturbed him. He finally believed that this child’s blood was special—he was a natural mosquito repellent.

When he woke up, the child was still deep in sleep. Carter pulled out one of his own short-sleeve T-shirts from his box, yanked the child up from the bed, and said, "Wake up. Put on your clothes."

The child, groggy, put on his T-shirt and was pulled out of bed.

Carter Vaughan led him out of the tent and ordered, "Put on your shoes."

The child bent down and put on his shoes.

"Now, I’m going to supervise you in running. I don’t care how fast you go, but you must finish. Otherwise, no food for you today." Carter stretched his body and then sat down on a bench outside the tent, leaning on his crutches.

The child looked at him with a sad face.

Carter Vaughan said, "Run around the camp. As long as I don’t shout stop, you’re not allowed to stop."

The camp was quite large, and running a lap around it was at least a kilometer. Barely 500 meters into the run, the child was already panting. If it weren’t for the days they had spent trekking through the forest, he probably couldn’t have even run 500 meters.

Carter Vaughan yelled loudly, "Don’t stop!"

A few mercenaries who had woken up early stood by, watching the spectacle.

The child gritted his teeth and ran two kilometers, but he was already gasping for breath. Carter Vaughan sternly shouted, "Run! Every day, you will have training. The morning run is just a small part of it. Only the strong have the right to survive and make choices. You weakling can only beg me for food. If you want to live, put away your tears."

The child wiped away his tears, lifted his legs, feeling as heavy as lead, and kept running.

Carter Vaughan planned to make him run only eight kilometers the first day, gradually increasing the distance in the following days.

By the final few kilometers, the child was practically crawling, his tears falling in big drops onto the grass, but he held back his cries. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that tears wouldn’t work on Carter Vaughan. In fact, it would only make him more annoyed, so he simply stopped crying.

When Pell heard the noise and came out, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the child. He said to Carter Vaughan, "Dan, isn’t this too much? He’s only five."

Carter Vaughan didn’t hesitate for a second, "When he’s able to control others' lives, he will thank me."

Carter Vaughan called a halt when the child collapsed onto the ground, not moving for a long time. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a hamburger, and yanked the child up from the ground. "Eat."

The child stared at the hamburger for half a second, then grabbed it and began devouring it hungrily.

Carter Vaughan tugged at the child’s clothes. "You’ve stained my shirt... I’ll give you half an hour to rest. After that, I’m going to teach you how to use a knife."

While the child rested, Carter Vaughan found Job and asked him to take care of something.

Job’s face twisted in disgust when he heard the request. "What do you want those things for?"

Carter Vaughan raised an eyebrow. "To toughen his courage."

Job shook his head. "You’re going to hell one of these days."

Carter Vaughan chuckled. "You all will be right there with me."

In the afternoon, the first lesson Carter Vaughan taught the child was how to grip a knife. He made the child use a dagger to chop a piece of wood. Even when his arm was sore and numb from the shock, he was not allowed to stop. If the knife was dropped, the child had to pick up a new piece of wood and try again. After two hours, the child could barely feel his arms.

Before dinner, Carter Vaughan finally let him rest and took him to the edge of the camp to show him something "interesting."

By this time, the child was completely exhausted, and he didn’t want to see anything. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep.

Carter Vaughan led him to where Job was waiting. When Job saw them, he nodded and motioned that everything was ready before walking off. Before leaving, he shot the child a sympathetic glance.

The child saw a hole about a meter wide from far away and felt a bad premonition rising in his heart.

Carter Vaughan bent down, put the child under his arm, and walked toward the hole.

The closer they got, the more the child felt afraid. He sensed something dangerous inside the hole. It was like an instinct. He could feel that something threatening was near him.

Sure enough, as they got closer, the child saw about twenty black bugs crawling in and out of the hole. These bugs had hard exoskeletons and degenerated wings, making them look both disgusting and terrifying. The child only looked at them for a second before he screamed.

Carter Vaughan looked at the bugs thoughtfully and said softly, "Don’t worry, they’re not poisonous." After that, he tossed the child into the hole.

The child’s scream pierced the air as soon as he hit the ground. He immediately felt something underneath him burst as he landed. He knew what that meant. He screamed and tried to run, but Carter Vaughan stepped on his shoulder to hold him down.

Carter Vaughan didn’t pay any attention to the child’s desperate cries. His gaze remained on the bugs, which scattered as soon as the child entered. They were obviously afraid of him.

These bugs, though not initially dangerous to humans, usually appeared in massive swarms. They could drain the blood of large animals, but in small numbers, they posed no immediate threat. Their instinct was to rush toward fresh meat, and they would never fear a small child.

Carter Vaughan finally believed that Oliver could indeed grab any bug in the forest to eat. His body had to be something very special for the insects to keep away from him.

The child cried even louder, shouting, "Daddy! Daddy! Please let me up! Please, let me up!"

The few words of "Daddy" snapped Carter Vaughan back to attention. He looked down and asked, "What did you call me?"

The child opened his hands and cried pitifully, "Daddy, help me."

Carter Vaughan grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. He crouched down, lifted the child up, and patted his back in an unusually merciful gesture. "Stop crying, act like a man."

The child buried his face in Carter’s shoulder, his body trembling with sobs. This time, he was truly scared.

As Carter Vaughan was carrying him back, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Without needing to look, he knew the child was biting him.

The child cried and tightened his teeth, his tiny fists pounding weakly against Carter Vaughan’s back. His legs kicked uselessly in his arms.

This was the first time the child had dared to fight back. Carter Vaughan finally felt like the boy was starting to learn.

He pushed his finger into the child’s mouth, pried open his teeth, and grinned evilly. "Let me give you a lesson. When you bite, aim for the neck. The shoulder won’t do. If you bite the neck, just grab the flesh, don’t bite the clothes. Otherwise, if I struggle, your teeth will get pulled out. Once you bite, never let go, no matter what happens. Shake your head hard, tear the wound wider and increase the blood flow. As long as you survive, you’ll win. Even if you die, at least you’ll take someone down with you." Carter Vaughan smiled with pride. "Now, sharpen those teeth. This is what a son of mine should be like."

The child listened seriously, his clear eyes burning with intense anger.