# 145
**Chapter 145 – Medals**
*Ding-a-ling-ling—!!*
A shrill whistle pierced the air. Lin Qiye snapped his eyes open, rolled off the bunk, and began pulling on his uniform.
Across the room, Baili Pangpang was also upright—eyes shut, snores rumbling, yet somehow still threading his arms into his sleeves. Once dressed he swayed like a metronome, one breath away from toppling back into sleep.
Lin Qiye grabbed a slipper and flung it. The slap on Baili Pangpang’s forehead jolted him awake.
They shoved open the door and sprinted toward the distant training ground.
“Haaa—chooo!” Baili Pangpang yawned theatrically. “After sleeping out there so long, I swear the bunks here feel like clouds…”
Then he blinked. “Wait—our physical-training block is finished. Why are we up at the crack of doom?!”
Lin Qiye rolled his eyes. “Physical block done doesn’t mean camp done. No more dawn-to-dusk weight runs, but everything else stays.”
“Fine~”
Soon the entire recruit company had formed up, brisk and razor-straight. This time the parade platform held not only Instructor Hong but every officer in camp. Yuan Gang stood at their fore, gaze leveled at Lin Qiye and the rest.
Today the staff looked different: uniforms immaculate, chests studded with medals large and small, colors ranging from garnet to sapphire. Yuan Gang wore the most—three deep-blue ones the most ornate. Catch the light and you’d swear you saw a star swirling inside each…
“Qiye, notice… a few instructors are missing?” Baili Pangpang whispered, scanning the line.
Lin Qiye nodded. “Three gone.”
After half a year he knew every face; the gaps were obvious—he could even name the absent trio.
“Where’d they go?”
“No idea, but it won’t be pleasant.”
He still remembered the missiles that had hunted their convoy. Someone inside camp had fed their route to the enemy. Those three missing instructors were almost certainly the rats. Rats don’t get retirement parties.
Yuan Gang offered no explanation. His gaze swept the formation and he spoke, voice low:
“Morning drill is canceled—”
Recruits blinked in surprise; his next sentence snatched their breath.
“You’re here for one thing: to award medals to some of you.”
Medals? They hadn’t even graduated.
A few heads swiveled toward Lin Qiye. Everyone who’d ridden in his truck had seen the black light that swallowed the shrapnel; even the slow ones had figured it out later.
Lin Qiye finally connected the dots—Instructor Hong had hinted back at Hongying’s mansion that a medal might be coming…
“Some of you may not know how Night Watch honors work,” Yuan Gang continued. “Let me brief you.
Unlike normal armies, we have four grades of merit, easiest to hardest: Spark, Star-glow, Star-core, and Star-sea.”
He unpinned a pale-red badge. “Spark Medal—awarded for major mystic clean-ups or saving large numbers of civilians.”
He clipped it back, then lifted a sky-blue one. “Star-glow Medal—far rarer. You get one for killing ultra-high-risk mysteries or ending large-scale disasters.”
Finally he held up the deep-blue masterpiece; dawnlight shimmered across its face like captured starlight.
“Star-core Medal—awarded only for slaying Boundless-grade mysteries or quelling events that could shake society itself. Fewer than one percent of Night Watch personnel ever wear one.”
He re-fastened it with ceremony. “Above that lies the Star-sea Medal—Night Watch’s highest honor. Fewer than ten people in all Great Xia possess one. Even High Command can’t list exact criteria.”
“Sir!”
“Speak.”
“If there’s no standard, how do you qualify?”
“When everyone agrees you deserve it, they’ll give it to you.” Yuan Gang’s voice stayed flat. “If you need a benchmark: in the past five years only Mask Squad’s Wang Mian has earned one.
Five years ago, Sequence-040 Yamata-no-Orochi made landfall in the East Sea. Wang Mian burned his own lifespan to rewind time by one hour, ordered the evacuation of several coastal cities, then led Mask Squad in a thirty-minute death-match against the serpent until a Human Apex arrived—saving tens of thousands.
Any of you think you can top that, feel free to apply.”
Silence swallowed the yard. Lin Qiye’s heart jumped; he remembered a news report on a “freak tsunami” five years ago—so that was the cover story. And the quiet, gentle man he knew had pulled off something that colossal…
“First recipient,” Yuan Gang announced, taking a small black case from an aide. His gaze found the ranks.
“Lin Qiye—during the missile ambush, acted decisively, saved fifty-plus recruits, preserved Night Watch’s future seed. Later severely wounded Church of the Ancient Gods’ ‘Snake Woman’ and, alongside Team 136, killed Believers’ Thirteenth Seat, Han Shaoyun…
Awarded: Star-core Medal!”