The portly fellow named Anderson spoke in mandarin. Although speaking in a hushed tone, the players could clearly hear what he was saying. He looked at the people around him with pleading eyes. “Err, you… anyone has an idea how to work this damn thing?”

The only answer he received was silence.

The Apollo Program was in operation from 1961 to 1972, and it had been around for fifty years. It was an early space project, where at that time, the United States had just completed the first human spaceflight program, the “Mercury” project, successfully sending astronaut Alan Shepard into space. Back then, training facilities were very different from the current ones.

Those interested in astronaut training would have perhaps heard of centrifuges and neutral buoyancy laboratories. Still, a facility with a piece of multi-axis training equipment was rare – it was also Zhang Heng’s first time encountering such a contraption. From the instructor’s description, it seemed that the machine was an uncomfortable experience. Very. Those who paid attention would have noticed that he employed the term ‘victim.’

Since Zhang Heng confirmed that there was nothing wrong with his hearing, it could only mean that the training wasn’t going to be easy. Considering that everyone had just entered the quest, they still hadn’t quite made sense of the situation that they were really in.

Typically, the first person chosen from a line of new recruits would undoubtedly be in the most disadvantageous position. Thanks to the guinea pig of a tubby man, the players were never more eager to gauge how the instrument worked and see first hand how severe the simulation would be. Lab rat Anderson was probably the only one who didn’t think that way. When he saw the instructor, already at the ready, looking a little impatient, he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. He had no other option. Realizing that no help was coming, and with no other players willing to take his place, he dragged himself to the instrument and sat down.

An assistant quickly fastened Anderson into the seat, then retreated to the control panel before the nervous trainee could protest.

Sweat soaked the chubby man’s collar, and he gulped. “I… Can I…”

“Whatever it is, save it for after the training,” the instructor interrupted coolly before signalling the assistant to flip the switch.

Accompanied by a loud mechanical grinding, multi-axis training device whirred to life and began to rotate. Zhang Heng and others now understood what the instructor meant by ‘like a cat thrown into a washing machine.’

The chubby man strapped into the seat looked terrified as the machine began to rotate on its axis, tossing and turning his body in the air. That, however, was only the beginning. Half a minute later, the instructor said, “Speed up.”

Anderson was so dizzy that he lost all orientation, unable to recognize his bearings. It was a hundred times more exhilarating than being tied to the front of a roller coaster, not in a good way, of course. He had already forgotten his reason for being there, and now, his instincts had taken over. All he wanted to do was to get through with the torment as quickly as possible.

However, things only got worse for the poor sould. The instrument didn’t stop, and instead, the tumbling became more and more intense.

When Zhang Heng saw this, he took two steps backward. At that moment, everyone’s still had their attention locked on the training device. No one noticed Zhang Heng’s discreet movements, except for a girl in glasses who also retreated with him.

The man on the multi-axis training device could no longer control himself. The muscles on his greenish face suddenly lost their tension, and a large stream of vomit came spewing out of his mouth.

Those who were in the front were showered with a rain of gastric juice and half-digested food. The unluckiest person there had his mouth ajar, deep in thought about what he should do when his turn came. He didn’t expect to taste the bile even before he got on.

The assistant noticed that the chubby trainee had gone completely unconscious. Worried that Anderson would choke on his own vomit, the machine was promptly turned off. Quickly, a team of medics on standby rushed to Anderson, unbuckled him, and ferried him off the seat.

As the staff was cleaning the instrument, the instructor had already started rolling the call again. “Next, Anthony.”

The player named Anthony didn’t look any better than Anderson, and although a person had already gone before them, the ones waiting got even more anxious when they saw the toll it took on the poor man. Fear and dread began to seep among the freshies.

Compared to the chubby trainee, this Anthony guy was in excellent shape and obvious gym buff. With arms taut in bulging muscles, he was probably a very good fighter, which gave him plenty of options on the table. Fleeing for one’s dear life didn’t sound so humiliating after all. His eyes swept across the room, falling on the staircase and door above it. Nonetheless, after a moment of hesitation, he conceded to fate and sat down on the training device as an honest man would.

This wasn’t his first quest, and he was no rookie either. Since he wasn’t too sure about the situation he was in, the risk of escaping the room was just too significant. What more, their primary mission was to go to space. Space exploration had always been a massive undertaking, and other than the astronauts themselves, the entire venture required teams of scientists, and an enormous budget, to name a few. The Multi-Axis Trainer may be tough on the toughest of bodies, but it surely wasn’t deadly, and the trainees could find no reason to resist getting on the machine.

Anthony obediently went through the pleasure of subjecting his body to a violent tossing and churning. He performed slightly better than Anthony, persisting for a good half-minute before vomitting only after leaving the machine.

“Livingston,” The instructor soldiered on, indignant of the previous trainee’s condition as he called out the third name.

Livingston was the oldest among the group, looking to be in his mid-forties. Donning a pair of signature gold-rimmed glasses, he seemed very gentle, unlike Anthony. He gave off the vibe of the textbook nerd, one of those permanantly belonging in the category of intellectuals. He wore a wry smile on his face. After wiping some vomit from his glasses, he handed them to an assistant.

“Great. At least we’ll soon find out what everyone had for dinner,” muttered the girl who retreated with Zhang Heng. Her statement illustrated how helpless the players felt as they understood that nobody was about to escape the ordeal.

The roll call went by very quickly. Those who went on came knew that they should come down fast, especially after seeing the middle-aged man. When the multi-axis training instrument accelerated, he begged for it to stop. The instructor relented and asked his staff to turn off the instrument.

When the middle-aged man came down, he could barely stand up, albeit able to control himself until reaching the bathroom, where he hugged the toilet, retching and emptying out the contents of his stomach. When the other trainees saw this, they didn’t try to prove who the tougher man was. The moment they felt queasy, they asked for it to stop. At least, in this way, it could save them some embarrassment. Instead of going easy on the very-sickly looking team, Zhang Heng noticed that the instructor’s frown had only deepened.

Finally, out of all the seven, Zhang Heng was the only one who hadn’t mounted the multi-axis trainer yet.