138 Grinding and Rubbing

On the third day after Zhong Yun arrived at the base, the training ground, which had previously been his alone, saw the arrival of several other base members piloting the same practice mechs as his. However, their control skills far surpassed his.

At first, Zhong Yun hadn’t noticed anyone else piloting mechs there. It was only when Bai Yuwan warned him to be careful not to collide with another mech that he realized others had arrived.

Glancing quickly, Zhong Yun refocused intently on his controls. This was the kind of concentration honed through “combat simulation” training.

Bai Yuwan observed silently with a nod of approval. Becoming an ace mech pilot required more than just talent; it demanded relentless effort. Zhong Yun’s unwavering focus impressed him deeply, strengthening his belief that Zhong Yun was destined for great achievements.

This type of repetitive familiarity training was undeniably tedious—hundreds of commands repeated endlessly, all involving just a dozen or so movements. Yet Zhong Yun found subtle enjoyment in the monotony by combining these moves into new sequences. For example, lifting a foot and snapping the lower leg forward formed a straight kick; adding a spin before that became a roundhouse kick.

He even began to deduce some unlearned commands, as the instructions followed discernible patterns. Commands controlling the left leg, for instance, shared the same initial keys. He surmised the system followed a part-plus-action pattern.

Every time he successfully tried a new command, he felt a surge of joy, which fueled his enthusiasm.

Bai Yuwan watched with a knowing smile and made no attempt to stop him. He had undergone a similar exploratory process. Mech piloting required breaking free from rigidity; stale, unchanging tactics only led to swift defeat, a lesson learned through countless battles.

Every exceptional pilot possessed a strong spirit of innovation and exploration. True combat mechs were equipped with various functions beyond the controls: weapon systems, flight systems, mechanical operation systems, and even non-humanoid mechs. Together, these allowed for countless combinations.

Much like martial arts techniques, mech control was boundless.

In battle, mechs functioned like special forces rather than infantry. When two armies faced off, that was the realm of space battleships. Mech units were the spearhead, used to infiltrate enemy space fleets or engage in combat on planetary surfaces.

Though coordination among mech units was crucial, it mostly occurred within small combat teams.

Thus, mech pilots were akin to martial arts masters; they could not be mass-produced like ordinary soldiers.

Bai Yuwan himself had once been a novice. He taught Zhong Yun just as his own teacher had taught him: only the basics, leaving the rest to personal exploration.

After two hours of practice, Bai Yuwan suggested a break.

They dismounted their mechs and sat on a patch of grass. Zhong Yun took the opportunity to ask Bai Yuwan some questions about mechs.

At that moment, the five practice mechs also stopped. Five young men in their early twenties jumped down and greeted Bai Yuwan, “Brother Bai.” They sat beside them.

“You must be the guest who came with the young lady,” said one round-faced young man, looking at Zhong Yun.

“That’s right. My name is Zhong Yun. Nice to meet you.” Though he detected a hint of hostility in the young man’s eyes, Zhong Yun paid it no mind.

“My surname’s Zeng, but everyone calls me Xiao San,” the round-faced youth introduced himself.

“I’m Wang Xiao’er,” said a shy young man sitting next to Zeng Xiao San.

“Chu Tiange,” introduced a youth wearing a silver nose ring.

“Call me Twenty-One,” said the next, sporting a retro bowl cut with a smooth curve at the forehead.

“Changran,” said the last, a very ordinary-looking youth whose name sounded odd, and whose tone was faintly melancholy, like a deeply hidden resentful woman.

What a lively bunch. Zhong Yun almost laughed out loud but held back to remain polite.

“Your martial arts rank is level seven, right? Want to spar a bit?” Chu Tiange suddenly asked. The others shot him reproachful looks. “Why bring it up so soon? Let’s get acquainted first before making a move,” Twenty-One complained.

“Sure,” Zhong Yun agreed readily. In reality, he had never fought anyone before and was curious to gauge his own level.

Bai Yuwan grew anxious. Zhong Yun was close to the young lady; anyone could see that. If Zhong Yun got hurt sparring, how would he explain it to her?

He couldn’t help but scold, “What are you all doing here if not training properly?”

“Brother Bai, we thought our fundamentals weren’t solid enough, so we brought our practice mechs to reinforce them,” Twenty-One smiled.

Seeing Chu Tiange already pulling Zhong Yun into the center for a fight, Bai Yuwan was about to intervene when Wang Xiao’er blocked him swiftly.

“Step aside,” Bai Yuwan said, irritated.

“Sparring between training sessions isn’t against base rules. What, you want to spar with me?” Zeng Xiao San picked his nose and looked at Bai Yuwan mischievously.

“You… you…” Bai Yuwan trembled with anger but was powerless. If they were in mechs, even three Zeng Xiao Sans wouldn’t be his match. But in hand-to-hand combat, he was clearly outclassed.

“Begin,” Chu Tiange said coolly, folding his arms with the air of an expert.

Zhong Yun sprang up, delivering a straight kick aimed at Chu Tiange’s abdomen. Chu Tiange sneered and swiftly swept his foot like lightning at the opening Zhong Yun left.

Zhong Yun switched to blocking, their feet clashing fiercely as they each stepped back, his foot tingling. His eyes darkened—this man’s physical strength rivaled his own.

Chu Tiange’s expression shifted from indifference to seriousness. This pretty boy was not as weak as he seemed. He touched the silver ring on his nose and launched the next attack.

Their exchanges were intense and evenly matched.

Bai Yuwan’s tension eased, surprised to see Zhong Yun was also a martial arts expert. Even more so, he hadn’t expected Zhong Yun to hold his own against the base’s top fighter.

Chu Tiange ranked mid to low in mech skill but was exceptionally strong in hand-to-hand combat. No one in the base had yet defeated him in a fight.

The other four were also surprised. To withstand Chu Tiange’s onslaught so long, this pretty boy was indeed formidable. Though Zhong Yun’s appearance hardly fit the “pretty boy” label, that was the nickname the five gave him.

Shadows flickered across the arena. Chu Tiange licked his lips. “Warm-up’s over.” A red vortex formed on his hand, shrinking into a fist-sized orb.

“The pretty boy’s doomed,” muttered Changran quietly.

The others rolled their eyes. “No kidding.”

Worry returned to Bai Yuwan’s eyes as he silently prayed, “Chu Tiange, please don’t injure Zhong Yun, or we’re all in trouble.”

Zhong Yun watched coldly, heightening his vigilance. Though he sensed no danger from the red orb, uncertainty gnawed at him.

Chu Tiange smirked. “Let me show you what a true martial artist can do.” He slapped the red orb against his chest, and it vanished inside.

He inhaled deeply, his face flushing, eyes glowing with a fierce light. His entire aura shifted dramatically.

Zhong Yun’s caution deepened. That red orb was indeed strange; he wondered what transformation had taken place inside Chu Tiange’s body.

Chu Tiange moved, his speed increasing by at least fifty percent. In a flash, he was before Zhong Yun, who was startled and instinctively pushed forward, performing a sealing block.

Bang—

Zhong Yun was sent flying backward several steps by a powerful force. Chu Tiange merely swayed and regained balance before lunging again.

Zhong Yun’s heart raced. Chu Tiange’s speed and strength had surged dramatically. What on earth was that red orb?

The thought barely formed when Chu Tiange’s fierce assault was upon him again.

Zhong Yun struggled desperately in the storm of attacks like a sapling buffeted by the wind.

“How long do you think the pretty boy can hold out?” Twenty-One asked, watching the fight.

“Minutes?” Zeng Xiao San sneered. “He won’t last a minute.”

“Let’s bet,” Changran suggested.

“I bet he won’t last a minute,” Zeng Xiao San said first.

“Three minutes,” Changran countered.

“And you, Xiao’er?” Twenty-One asked.

“Can I not bet?” Wang Xiao’er rubbed his fingers nervously.

“No way,” Twenty-One said. “I’m the banker. If you don’t bet, get lost.”

“Ten minutes,” Wang Xiao’er said reluctantly.

“Yuwan, what about you?” Twenty-One asked Bai Yuwan.

Bai Yuwan was too anxious to respond. If he had the strength, he would have jumped in to save Zhong Yun already.

Despite Zhong Yun’s desperate defense, Chu Tiange found it tough to defeat him. Though faster and stronger, he was momentarily at a loss, growing increasingly frustrated and aggressive.

Zhong Yun had his own tactics against such speed. His third opponent in “combat simulation” was a fast adversary, whom he had taken two months to overcome.

Moreover, every opponent Zhong Yun faced initially outmatched him. He had developed his own methods for coping.

Countless battles had sharpened his instincts, allowing him to anticipate attacks. Though slower, he could barely hold his ground.

But defense alone could not last forever. Gritting his teeth, purple light radiated from Zhong Yun’s body, his hands glowing fully violet.

“What’s this…” the onlookers’ attention snapped to him; he was about to unleash a trump card.

ps: Another chapter tonight. Soon catching up with the front runners, brothers, keep it up.