Many children bring happiness, a shameless start

Lip walked into the room and searched Ian's bed and bag for a long time, but couldn't find what he was looking for.

Then it hit him: Ian's favorite hiding place—behind the cabinet.

Lip moved the cabinet and, sure enough, found what he needed at the bottom against the wall.

He took the items downstairs, put the VCD into the player, and hit play.

The screen lit up with a row of blonde beauties, stunning figures clad in cool clothes, dancing and raising their legs high while shouting slogans about joining the army.

Next came a video of shirtless American soldiers training in a military camp, their muscles bulging, strong and imposing.

Then there were scenes of various battles, soldiers flexing their might, their equipment overwhelming the enemy, forcing them to abandon their helmets and armor in retreat.

After the battle, the president, governor, and various high-ranking officials—who could only be seen on TV—received the soldiers, handing out medals in a display of respect.

The video ended with scenes of soldiers becoming popular with women, drinking with men, and ultimately living the American Dream—owning a car, a house, and having a beautiful wife.

It made it seem as though joining the army would easily turn you into a hero, making your family and the whole country proud of you.

Lip couldn't help but think, This is the kind of propaganda aimed at the naïve.

The second VCD was about the various benefits of being a soldier and participating in the war.

Typical propaganda that only highlighted the good, ignoring the cruelty and harsh realities of war. If you're not careful, it could ruin your life.

Not long after, Mickey and Fiona arrived, followed by Carl and Ian.

"Ian, why aren't you at work? What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"I... I told Lip about your plans to go to West Point," Mickey said, a little embarrassed and avoiding Ian's gaze.

"You—"

"What are you going to do? If Mickey hadn't reminded me, I wouldn't have known how serious you were about this," Lip said coldly, glaring at Ian.

Ian, feeling uneasy, lowered his head.

"I... I was just talking casually," Ian tried to explain.

"Just talking? I see you've learned to lie now!" Lip's eyes grew colder. "What the hell is this?"

Lip threw the VCD, book, and promotional materials onto the dining table. "What did you promise me?"

"I... Lip, what are you doing?!" Ian exclaimed, shocked and angry that Lip would throw his hidden items so carelessly in front of everyone.

"These are all from the Reserve Officer Training Camp," Lip said.

"West Point?" Ian replied with a nod.

"Ian, why didn't you talk to me and your family about something this important?" Lip asked. "You just finished tenth grade!"

"I just wanted to see what the requirements were for the practical camp," Ian explained.

"Practical camp? Are you seriously considering going to West Point? What are you thinking?" Lip demanded.

"I've been in ROTC for two years, so what's the big deal?" Ian retorted.

"Don't talk to me about being some 'patriot'! Do you really want to be cannon fodder in some war-torn place?" Lip shot back.

"War-Torn?"

"Yeah, places like Palestine, Afghanistan, Iraq..." Lip said sarcastically.

Ian clenched his fists, ready to defend his decision. "I'm a patriot!"

"Want to fight me?" Lip asked, his tone colder. "Think carefully about who you've been learning all these so-called fighting skills from!"

Ian stood speechless, his courage faltering under Lip's glare.

"You're just a fool, easily brainwashed by all this nonsense. You're destined to be cannon fodder wherever you go!" Lip shouted angrily, kicking the foot of the table.

"Lip, calm down," Ian said, his anger shifting to helplessness. "Maybe I can't even go if I wanted to. I saw the application form, and I'm not even close to qualifying. It needs a 4.2 GPA, a top score on the college entrance exam, and a letter from the chairman!"

"That's ridiculous!" Lip said, relieved. "So the army wants someone who can be a straight-A student and survive a bullet wound in Kabul? What are they thinking?"

"Yeah, it's crazy," Ian agreed, nodding.

"Do you really want to go to that school?" Lip asked.

"Yes," Ian said seriously. "That's why I chose the combat camp instead. It's easier to get into."

Lip thought for a moment, then rubbed Ian's head. "I'm going to get something for you. After you see it, if you still want to go, I'll help you with it."

"Really?" Ian asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Of course. You're my brother," Lip said, smiling helplessly. "What else can I do? I'll even help you with school if I need to!"

"Thank you!" Ian said, about to hug Lip.

"Hold off on that. I haven't shown you yet. You might change your mind," Lip said, walking toward his room.

A moment later, he came back with his laptop and set it down in front of Ian.

"Here, take a good look at it," Lip said, pushing the laptop toward Ian.

Ian clicked play. Mickey and Fiona leaned in to watch.

The video was real, bloody, violent, and cruel. It started with a heavily armed American soldier being blown apart by a suicide bomber in Kabul, Afghanistan.

"Wow, this is even worse than House of Wax!" Carl shouted, his excitement evident.

"Ouch! Fiona, why'd you hit me?" he added as Fiona nudged him.

"Watch and don't talk!" she snapped.

After a few minutes, Ian turned to Lip, his face confused. "What's all this about?"

"This is just the beginning," Lip said with a grin. "The real shock is still coming. I hope you're ready for it—and still hungry afterward."

Half an hour later, Fiona rushed to the bathroom, vomiting.

When she came out, Carl hurried past her, covering his mouth.

Lip watched calmly. This was only the beginning; the real chaos was yet to come.