HLM -Chapter 1211 Hide First

It wasn’t just Wang Bo—everyone was waiting for some excitement. Even the doctors from other rooms who were responsible for the checks rushed over when they heard that some cadets weren’t wearing underwear.

These people weren’t exactly reasonable; as they hurried over, they chatted:

“Looks like we’ll get to see some little ones again. Perfect, haha.”

“Not necessarily, could be something big this time.”

“Let’s check if anyone’s secretly taking photos. Last time, someone actually did, and that cadet nearly sued the academy.”

Sweet Guy, however, was a pro. Seeing everyone crowding around him, he had a sudden flash of inspiration in his panic: he pulled his pants up all the way to his upper thighs.

The instructor who came to check froze, then scratched his head and said, “Alright, you’re clever.”

The physical exam mainly checked the legs—to see if there were bowlegs, flat arches, and other issues. With nothing more to inspect, the rushing instructors and doctors had no choice but to leave disappointed.

After the physical exam came the run: a 1,000-meter sprint, no rest allowed. Everyone had to run at top speed, and the instructors would monitor their facial expressions and breathing. Anyone slacking would have to keep running.

Wang Bo swung his arms and ran with all his strength, completing a full lap around the track and taking first place.

The instructors, still holding cigarettes they hadn’t finished, watched the panting Wang Bo blink repeatedly.

“What’s the matter, instructor?”

“Nothing. Were you a long-distance runner before becoming a cop? That speed… probably an academy record,” one instructor exclaimed.

After running came a urine test, among several other immediate checks, including a cardiac function test. Wang Bo finished first and then saw a Black youth walking out of the restroom holding a cup.

Most cadets’ cups were only partially filled, as urine tests didn’t require much, but this young man’s cup was full to the brim. He carried it carefully with both hands, body slightly bent forward, walking cautiously.

The nearby instructor froze again: “Sh*t… buddy, are you here to toast someone?”

Wang Bo could only stare in disbelief. Was this a police academy or a comedy stage? Since arriving, he had truly seen it all.

No other mishaps occurred afterward. The afternoon checks concluded, and in the evening, the cadets had free time. The school intended for everyone to get to know each other, and a few instructors came by as well.

This time, there was no joking around—all were real instructors. Everyone crowded into a dorm, drinking beer, snacking, and chatting happily.

Afterwards, Wang Bo called Eva. She asked, “Why are you calling only now? Mom and I waited for your call all night.”

He faintly heard the little girl shouting, “Me too!” in the background.

He explained, “We got tricked last night. The previous batch of cadets played a prank that nearly scared us into peeing ourselves. Signals were blocked here, so we couldn’t make any calls.”

Big guy Kenneth had explained earlier: signals were blocked to prevent anyone from making calls to the media or family and causing unnecessary trouble.

Classes officially started. The first was law, taught by a visiting professor from Wellington University’s Law School, named Argentis.

During class, he said: “Today, we’ll start with criminal thinking. This will help you in future investigations. So first, imagine: if killing weren’t illegal, who would you kill first?”

It was a highly discussion-provoking topic. Immediately, the students buzzed with chatter.

Wang Bo asked Atulu, “Who would you kill first? Your violent wife?”

The Maori giant shouted, “Who else? Damn it, I’d hide first!”

Wang Bo paused: “That… actually makes sense.”

All the topics in this class were hypothetical scenarios about committing crimes. The professor encouraged cadets to answer freely, assuring them that thinking about crime is normal and wouldn’t have legal consequences.

The classroom descended into chaos. Wang Bo listened for a while, feeling nervous. Was this really a police academy? He felt like he had entered a prison listening to gangsters brag.

After an hour and a half, the next class was even tougher: combat training.

The instructor for hand-to-hand combat was Birrus, about 34–35 years old, roughly 1.85 meters tall, very muscular, with a large bald head—like a muscle-bound villain from a movie.

He was somewhat famous, enjoyed movies, and often appeared as an extra in New Zealand films and TV shows, including the famous Lord of the Rings trilogy.

In Lord of the Rings, he played a strong dwarf. In class, he even showed his photos from the film—once the beard was added, he was unrecognizable. “In the movie, I even took down a Warg,” Birrus proudly said.

The cadets tried to impress him: “Instructor, have you been in any movies recently?”

Birrus perked up: “No movies, but I was in a big TV production, Deadly Notes. This time, I’m not an extra. I appear in two episodes as a retired special forces soldier and crime expert…”

He looked at Wang Bo: “Hey, I remember two of you in this batch are retired special forces, right?”

Other cadets, unaware, looked around curiously.

Sweet Guy thought he was referring to him, waving proudly: “I’m not a special forces soldier, I’m…”

Birrus pointed to Benjamin and Gerard: “They’re from SAS, true elite soldiers. Everyone should learn from them.”

Sweet Guy’s bragging was cut off.

Benjamin shrugged: “Retired many years ago.”

Gerard still maintained his cool demeanor.

After getting acquainted, Birrus began formal training. He was a martial arts enthusiast: fifth-degree black belt in karate, trained in judo and taekwondo, studied Muay Thai, and understood Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Jeet Kune Do.

In casual talk, he seemed easygoing. On the training ground, he exuded a killing aura. He initially selected two cadets to demonstrate—fast, precise strikes, like venomous snakes, subduing opponents in seconds.

Many looked at Benjamin, urging: “Benjamin, go spar with the instructor.”

Benjamin smiled wryly: “I’ll follow the instructor’s plan, but no need to expect too much. Soldiers are better with weapons, but in hand-to-hand combat, I’m no match for the instructor.”

Birrus smiled and paired cadets for practice. He never had Benjamin spar with him; both were experts. If they fought seriously, someone could get hurt, which would be a problem.