The embrace lasted less than three seconds.
But for Yun Xingze, it felt longer than three minutes.
His heart raced uncontrollably, like a disobedient rabbit thumping against his chest.
It wasn’t as if Yun Xingze had never exchanged such polite hugs with others before and this time, he had even initiated it. Yet the hand resting on his waist seemed to flip some invisible switch, sending his body temperature soaring.
Luo Wenchuan casually tousled his hair, but there was an inexplicable tenderness in the gesture.
The refreshing scent of mint kept drifting into Yun Xingze’s nose.
Even after they pulled apart, his mind was still filled with Luo Wenchuan’s lingering fragrance.
Their eyes met, both faces composed, yet their gazes carried a hint of unease.
Yun Xingze coughed lightly, while Luo Wenchuan averted his gaze.
After a moment, Luo Wenchuan murmured apologetically,
“Sorry, I’m a bit sweaty.”
Fresh out of his mecha, Luo Wenchuan had been flustered when Yun Xingze hugged him. But in the end, his emotions had overridden reason, and he couldn’t resist holding onto him for those three seconds.
“It’s fine,” Yun Xingze said casually. “We won! It’s worth celebrating.”
Truthfully, Luo Wenchuan wasn’t sweaty at all. Instead, his rising body heat had intensified the minty scent, making the embrace feel like a warm summer breeze. So much so that Yun Xingze almost regretted letting go.
Luo Wenchuan looked into Yun Xingze’s eyes, the corner of his lips quirking up before he softly replied, “Mhm.”
The team members who witnessed this were surprised by Luo Wenchuan’s uncharacteristic behavior, but they dismissed it as post-victory excitement.
Ke Lei, however, gaped in shock, while Aixili nudged him and said,
“Told you so.”
What exactly she had told him; well, only Ke Lei knew.
Chi Yu, watching from the sidelines, gritted his teeth so hard they might’ve cracked. He kept reassuring himself that Yun Xingze would eventually return to him. There was no way he’d end up with that penniless Luo Wenchuan.
“Everyone performed exceptionally well today!” Richard, rarely one to smile, beamed after their victory. “Dinner’s on me tonight.”
The team cheered, already debating which of Noah Star’s delicacies to indulge in.
As the match concluded, the audience buzzed with excitement, dissecting every twist and turn.
Online, major platforms flooded with coverage of Starsea Military Academy’s showdown against Gikot Military Academy, headlines screaming words like “upset,” “comeback,” and “unexpected” proof of just how shocking their victory had been.
Discussions about the competitors’ performances raged both online and offline.
Among them, Luo Wenchuan and Cheng Jun’s skills were indisputable. Individually, their performances could be considered textbook-perfect.
Luo Wenchuan’s combat techniques were flawless as always—deceptively simple, yet every move carried lethal precision.
Though Cheng Jun’s final moments being sent flying and slashed seven times midair were brutal, the fact that he had traded blows with Luo Wenchuan at all spoke volumes about his strength.
Yet, the most talked-about match wasn’t this final showdown.
Instead, it was the second team match, the one where Yun Xingze and his teammates faced off against Hebrew and his crew.
Opinions about Yun Xingze’s abilities were divided.
Some believed he had merely gotten lucky, winning through underhanded tactics.
But most agreed that his skills far surpassed those of an average A-rank dual-star mecha pilot.
“Yun Xingze was the team’s MVP. Caleb got eliminated early, but at least he took one down with him. Chi Yu, though? Total deadweight.”
“Exactly. Those calling it luck clearly missed the part where he flipped Dane’s Storm Mecha onto its back.”
“The first real surprise of this tournament came from Yun Xingze. Who knew an Omega could pilot a mecha with such explosive power?”
“Damn, I had stuff to do this morning and missed the match. Not only did I waste a ticket, but I missed out on such an epic team battle!”
“Starsea Military Academy might actually make it to the top four this year.”
“Top four’s a stretch. They’ve still got two powerhouse schools ahead. Let’s see if they even qualify first.”
Ming Xiao left the arena and settled into a small black hovercraft.
He skimmed through the flood of online comments, smiling faintly without comment.
As a mecha enthusiast, Ming Xiao was used to seeing heated debates about which competitors were stronger; debates that never reached a consensus.
Suddenly, a message flashed across his holographic screen:
[You should have the preliminary data on that guy by now, right?]
Ming Xiao typed a quick reply: “Yeah, was just about to send it over.”
After a pause, the response came: [No rush. Wait till the team’s done analyzing.] Ming Xiao removed the contact lenses from his eyes. The transparent lenses unfolded, transforming into a miniature camera drone.
Connecting it to his neural interface, the recorded match footage and related data soon appeared on the screen—crystal clear, rivaling top-tier professional cameras.
Such recording drones were strictly regulated in the Empire, rarely available to the public and typically reserved for those of significant status.
After organizing the data and footage, Ming Xiao dialed a number that displayed no caller ID.
“Hello, this is Agent 13.” he murmured, voice low. “Data transfer, please confirm.”
Green data streams soon scrolled across the virtual screen as the packaged files were securely transmitted to a shadow account.
Once finished, Ming Xiao reopened the footage he’d recorded, expression pensive.
Every frame featured Yun Xingze in action.
After a long moment, Ming Xiao smirked, recalling the boy’s bright smile when accepting the bouquet. “If he’s an Omega, things might get even messier than expected.”
His casual grin carried a shrewd edge, a stark contrast to the guileless persona he’d shown Yun Xingze.
“Then again, it’s good that he is an Omega,” Ming Xiao mused, shutting off the screen and running a hand through his dark green hair, visibly pleased. “At least he probably didn’t toss those flowers.”
That evening, Richard treated the entire team to a lavish feast at Noah Star’s grandest hotel, serving the planet’s most extravagant dishes.
Rare fruits and fantastical seafood adorned the table, their mere presentation enough to whet everyone’s appetite.
Yun Xingze looked at one of the fruit platters and asked Oliar beside him, “What’s that fruit? I’ve never seen it before.”
“It seems to be a hybrid of mango and durian,” Oliar replied. “Called durian-mango. A single piece costs a fortune.”
Yun Xingze picked one up and took a bite. The flavor was indeed a blend of durian and mango, yet bizarrely harmonious. Sweet and fragrant with a rich aftertaste, evoking the sensation of a tropical rainforest.
“Wow, this is delicious,” Yun Xingze immediately grabbed another piece and handed it to Luo Wenchuan. “Want to try?”
Luo Wenchuan paused mid-sip of his drink, meeting Yun Xingze’s slightly expectant gaze before accepting it with practiced calm. “Is it really that good?”
Moments later, after tasting the durian-mango, Luo Wenchuan’s lips curved slightly as he said, “The texture’s nice,” his tone carrying a barely detectable note of surprise.
Yun Xingze didn’t understand why, but whenever he found something tasty, he instinctively wanted to share it with Luo Wenchuan. Seeing Luo Wenchuan smile inexplicably lifted his mood.
Ke Lei, seated beside Luo Wenchuan, couldn’t resist commenting, “Weren’t you the one who brought back last time—Ow!”
Luo Wenchuan kicked him under the table and shoved a fruit into his mouth. “You try it too.”
Ke Lei nearly wept. Do people really become this hypocritical when chasing after someone? Luo Wenchuan had probably eaten this fruit countless times already!
“Are you free tonight?” Luo Wenchuan asked Yun Xingze, a faint anticipation in his eyes.
He thought if Yun Xingze had time, he could show him around Noah City on Noah Star.
“Tonight? Probably just gaming after showering.” Yun Xingze answered casually before suddenly remembering something and hastily correcting himself, “Uh, or maybe sleeping right after. Might not play.”
Luo Wenchuan had once mentioned “playing Mech Star together sometime,” and Yun Xingze hadn’t forgotten.
He absolutely couldn’t risk exposing his secret identity!
“Oh.” Luo Wenchuan didn’t bring up their previous conversation, simply saying, “Then rest well,” before calmly drinking his water, much to Yun Xingze’s relief.
“With this afternoon’s match concluded,” Richard shifted the conversation to serious matters, his smile fading slightly, “St. Clythus Mech Academy defeated Far Mountain Military Academy. Meaning our next opponent is St. Clythus.”
St. Clythus Mech Academy had always been an anomaly. The Black Swan Galaxy lacked economic strength, mech resources, and population yet somehow produced this powerhouse academy.
It was worth noting that just a few light-years beyond Black Swan lay barren star systems.
Thanks to St. Clythus’s rise, Black Swan’s economy had consistently ranked in the top ten for growth over recent years, with the Empire paying increasing attention to the academy.
“You’ve all heard about their combat style,” Richard surveyed the group solemnly. “They’ll employ every rule-permissible method to secure victory.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Yun Xingze had previously sparred with St. Clythus team members; albeit within Mech Star but even then, he could confirm Richard’s assessment.
Several of their fighters employed wildly unorthodox tactics.
Had Yun Xingze not been even wilder, he might have lost.
Richard then projected a virtual screen that expanded into a massive circular display, visible to everyone around the round table.
“So, let me recap today’s match for you all, and then we’ll discuss how to deal with St. Clythus next,” Richard said.
Yun Xingze was eating fruit while wearing a surprised expression analyzing the match right at the dinner table was way too casual!
Next to him, Caleb rolled his eyes: “Can’t we just eat in peace?”
“Starting with you, Caleb,” Richard continued. “Look at how many minor mistakes you made during the match.”
Caleb pouted unwillingly. After hearing Richard’s words, the seafood in his hand suddenly lost its appeal.
Richard mercilessly analyzed everyone’s shortcomings, criticizing each of them in turn, with Chi Yu receiving the harshest treatment.
“Chi Yu, do you think you’re hot stuff? You survived for over ten minutes, but spent most of it spacing out I almost wanted to grab Caleb’s mech and dismantle you myself. Did you even see Yun Xingze’s mechanical beast? I suggest you apprentice under it.”
