The celebration was in full swing at Liberty Prime University Academy's makeshift camp. The sounds of laughter, cheers, and music filled the evening air, accompanied by the savory aroma of grilled food wafting from the outdoor grills. Tables were laden with dishes—everything from classic American barbecue to regional Tex-Mex specialties. The L.P.U.A. crews, still in their uniforms smeared with dirt and dust from the match, celebrated their hard-fought victory with well-earned enthusiasm.

Anthony stood to the side of the festivities, his Woodland BDU slightly unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a plain white undershirt. His arms were crossed, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched his team unwind. Tyrone leaned against a nearby truck, a paper plate piled high with ribs and cornbread in one hand and a soda in the other.

"Man, we crushed it today," Tyrone said between bites. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

Anthony nodded, his gaze shifting to the edge of the camp where the Chinese delegation was quietly packing up their gear. The mood around the Red Banner team was subdued, their once-imposing demeanor replaced by a palpable sense of defeat. Liu Meixian stood at the center of it all, her white uniform still immaculate despite the day's battle. Her expression was stoic, but Anthony could see the weight of the loss in her posture.

"They're taking it hard," Anthony murmured.

Tyrone followed his gaze and shrugged. "Can you blame them? They came in here thinking they'd steamroll us, and we handed them their asses. That's gotta sting."

Anthony's brow furrowed slightly. He understood the sting of defeat all too well. He had felt it before during his early days in Tankery, and he knew how isolating it could be.

"They fought well," Anthony said after a moment. "They're not failures. They just need to be reminded of that."

Tyrone raised an eyebrow. "What're you thinking?"

Without answering, Anthony straightened his uniform and began walking toward the Chinese camp. Tyrone groaned, setting his plate down. "Of course. You and that damn sportsmanship."

As Anthony approached, the Chinese crews looked up, their conversations halting as they noticed the towering American commander. Liu Meixian turned to face him, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he drew closer.

"Commander Grant," she said, her tone polite but guarded. "Is there something you need?"

Anthony stopped a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his voice firm. "Yeah. I need you and your team to join our celebration."

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment, met with stunned silence. The Red Banner crews exchanged confused glances, and even Liu's normally unshakable composure faltered slightly.

"You want us to join your celebration?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Anthony nodded. "That's right. You fought hard today. You pushed us to our limits, and that deserves recognition. A match like that isn't just about winning or losing—it's about respect. So come on, join us. You've earned it."

Liu's lips pressed into a thin line, her mind clearly racing as she processed his words. Her pride and the sting of defeat warred with the unexpected gesture of goodwill. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"You are... unexpected, Commander Grant," she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But I will not refuse. Thank you."

She turned to her team, speaking in Mandarin. The Red Banner crews hesitated for a moment before nodding and beginning to follow her toward the L.P.U.A. camp.

The arrival of the Red Banner delegation initially quieted the L.P.U.A. celebration as everyone turned to see their former opponents approaching. Harriet and Imani exchanged surprised looks, and Tyrone let out a low whistle.

"Well, I'll be damned," Tyrone muttered. "You actually pulled it off."

Anthony shot him a glance. "It's called sportsmanship, Ty. You should try it sometime."

The silence was broken as Anthony stepped forward, addressing both teams. "Listen up! Today's match was one of the toughest we've faced, and we couldn't have done it without a worthy opponent. Red Banner Academy gave us everything they had, and we respect the hell out of them for it. So tonight, we celebrate together—as Tankery teams and as peers."

The declaration was met with cheers from the L.P.U.A. crews and polite nods from the Chinese. The tension between the two groups began to dissipate as they mingled, sharing food and stories. Laughter soon replaced the earlier unease, and the camp became a lively mix of cultures and camaraderie.

Liu Meixian stood near one of the grills, a plate of food in hand, as she watched her team slowly relax. Anthony approached her, holding a soda.

"Not bad, huh?" he said, handing her the drink.

She accepted it with a small nod. "I must admit, I didn't expect this. Red Banner is... not accustomed to such gestures."

Anthony shrugged. "Well, maybe it's time for a change. Tankery's about more than just winning. It's about building connections, learning from each other. Besides, nobody deserves to leave feeling like they're not good enough."

Liu studied him for a moment, her sharp gaze softening slightly. "You are an unusual commander, Anthony Grant. I respect that."

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

As the night wore on, the lines between the two teams blurred. Crews from both schools traded jokes, discussed tactics, and even challenged each other to friendly games of darts and arm wrestling. Harriet and Imani dominated the latter, much to the amazement of the Red Banner team.

Tyrone, sitting with a group of Chinese tankers, grinned as he explained one of L.P.U.A.'s more unconventional maneuvers from the match. "Yeah, that move with the Strykers? All me. Gotta keep things interesting, you know?"

One of the Chinese crew members laughed. "You are lazy, but clever."

"Hey, I take that as a compliment," Tyrone replied, raising his soda in a mock toast.

By the end of the night, the two teams parted not as bitter rivals but as mutual respecters of each other's skills. As the Red Banner delegation prepared to leave, Liu Meixian approached Anthony one last time.

"Today was a lesson for us," she admitted. "We will take it to heart. But don't think this changes anything. The next time we meet, Red Banner Academy will be ready."

Anthony smirked, extending his hand. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

She shook his hand firmly, her grip strong but respectful. "Until next time, Commander Grant."

As the Chinese convoy disappeared into the night, Anthony turned back to his team, who were already cleaning up the camp. The day had been a victory not just in the match but in bridging a gap between two very different schools.

And for Anthony, that was a win worth celebrating.