**Drinking and partying were just a bit of life's flavor—important things couldn't be delayed because of them.**
---
**The Next Morning**
At 6 a.m., as the sky barely started to lighten, Long Zhan, who had only gotten to sleep at 2 a.m. after an intense night with Stella, sprang out of bed full of energy. He leaned over and kissed her still-sleeping face.
To her sleepy, murmured "good morning," he responded by launching into his daily self-discipline routine—unchanged after so many years.
There were no workout machines at Stella's place, and since he had to report to Green Team that morning anyway, Long Zhan decided to combine the two tasks. He simply ran the entire way from her place back to the naval base.
To the average person, thirty-plus kilometers would be a daunting distance, but for Long Zhan—who had long been molded into a physical monster through years of running with heavy loads—it was barely a challenge.
Even more so since this was just a light run without any gear. For him, it was practically a warm-up.
As a morning jog, the intensity was just right.
Two and a half hours later, at a steady pace, he arrived back at the base. After showering at Green Team's facility and grabbing a quick breakfast in the mess hall, he packed up his personal belongings and loaded them onto a small dolly.
Perfect timing.
It was just about the start of the daytime shift for DEVGRU logistics personnel.
Long Zhan grabbed a pre-bought case of Budweiser, pulled his dolly along, and headed to the third floor of DEVGRU headquarters. As the elevator doors opened, he was greeted by a smiling face.
**Diaz.**
They were already well acquainted.
"Long, welcome aboard. I heard you made Gunnery Sergeant. Congrats," Diaz said warmly.
She had received the new member notification earlier and had seen Long Zhan coming up the stairs with his dolly from a window, so she'd come out to greet him in advance.
When her eyes fell on Long Zhan's new rank insignia, there was a noticeable glint of approval.
Diaz held the same rank—**E7, Gunnery Sergeant**—which now made them equals.
In DEVGRU, even though everyone addressed each other by first name regardless of rank, there was always an invisible scale in everyone's mind.
**Rank matters.** It carries weight, even when not spoken aloud.
"Rank doesn't count for much here unless you're a team leader," Long Zhan said with a modest smile as he stepped out of the elevator and extended his hand. "I'm new here and don't know the ropes yet. I'll be counting on your guidance."
"Of course," Diaz replied. Instead of shaking his hand, she gave him a warm hug.
"Welcome to Bravo Team. From now on, this is your second home. Helping you is my responsibility."
**"We are family."**
Long Zhan raised a thick brow and grinned, accepting the sentiment without hesitation.
"Come on, Jason and the others aren't here yet—they're on their way. I'll take you to the gear room first so you can drop your stuff off," Diaz said, beckoning him forward.
Long Zhan followed, dolly in tow.
---
**Welcoming new members to the team was a formal ritual in DEVGRU.** Every team member was required to be present to show respect and to symbolically accept the newcomer into their brotherhood.
**A brotherhood forged in blood.** Blood relatives might not have your back in a fight—but your team in DEVGRU *must* be people you trust unconditionally. That trust was the only way they could carry out high-risk missions with seamless coordination.
Diaz had planned this well. Since Jason and the others would take a while to arrive, she used the opportunity to help Long Zhan get his gear sorted.
They walked to the end of the hallway, where a double-door room marked "Storage" awaited.
It wasn't locked. Clearly a shared space.
"Come on in," Diaz said, opening the door.
Long Zhan had visited Green Team's gear room several times before, but this was his **first real glimpse inside DEVGRU's inner sanctum.**
The room was even larger than he'd imagined—easily over 200 square meters.
The layout was simple and functional. Three of the walls were lined with 2.5-meter-square black steel cages, arranged in a neat row.
There were fifteen in total.
Most of the cages had name tags on them. Long Zhan quickly spotted ones labeled **Jason**, **Ray**, and **Sonny**. One in the far corner bore the name of **Nate**, a teammate who had long been KIA. Inside, all his belongings remained untouched.
Clearly, DEVGRU had **its own unique traditions.**
The wall closest to the door was the only one without cages. A couch sat in the corner, flanked by some cabinets and a coffee machine.
It was clearly a **break area**—a place to rest after organizing gear.
"This one's yours." Diaz patted the door of **Cage #8** and handed Long Zhan a key. "Your nameplate is already on the shelf. Once you're settled in, stick it on the cage door."
Then she asked, "Any special gear or weaponry you need?"
"Not sure yet," Long Zhan replied honestly. He had just arrived—how could he know what he was missing?
"Listen closely…" Diaz said, tone turning serious. "Whatever you need for a mission, you tell me. If it's necessary, I'll find a way to get it for you."
"Anything?" Long Zhan grinned.
He was tempted to make a flirtatious joke but thought better of it.
Though they got along well, their relationship hadn't progressed to *that* level.
So instead, he teased, "Are you like some kind of… legendary female Santa Claus? Making everyone's wish list come true?"
Diaz burst out laughing. "Emmm, maybe something like that. It's my job."
"You get settled in here and write down anything you're missing on your wish list. I've got things to do—be back in a bit," she said, already turning to leave.
Just like always—quick, efficient, and not one to coddle.
It wasn't that she didn't want to help Long Zhan unpack.
Rather, it was the **nature of DEVGRU itself.**
Everyone followed what they called **"Big Boy Rules."**
Also known as the **self-management principle**.
In other words, at DEVGRU, everyone was free—**but also responsible for themselves.** You were expected to handle your own preparation and logistics without being told.
No one would babysit you or tell you how to do your job.
Unless **you** asked for help.
This was a radical departure from conventional military units, where officers managed everything from daily training to personal life.
But DEVGRU—**an elite unit of the highest caliber**—could afford to operate this way.
Try this in a regular infantry company?
**The place would fall apart in three days.**