After saying this, Luo Wenchuan turned and walked toward the door, his tall and straight figure casting a long shadow.
Yun Xingze was momentarily stunned, then couldn’t help but take several gulps of his cola.
The cola that had been touched.
Did it taste a little sweeter now?
A week later was the match between Starsea Military Academy and St. Clythus Mecha Academy.
The NCLM organizers provided the competitors with dedicated training grounds and meeting rooms.
Every morning, after completing their routine training, the school team members would gather for meetings with their coach to discuss tactics.
Today, Starsea Military Academy and St. Clythus happened to be holding their meetings in adjacent rooms.
“There have been some adjustments regarding personnel assignments for the individual and team competitions,” Richard announced to the group. “He Haoming, you’ll be leading Chi Yu and Caleb in the upcoming matches. Correy, you’ll switch with Aixili… Yun Xingze, you’re assigned to the individual competition.”
Everyone was somewhat surprised by Richard’s arrangements.
After all, Richard had previously held a rather low opinion of Yun Xingze and hadn’t treated him well.
No one expected him to place such trust in Yun Xingze now.
“See, Brother Yun? Talent always gets recognized,” Oliar whispered in Yun Xingze’s ear. “You’re way stronger than Chi Yu and Caleb.”
However, Yun Xingze didn’t feel particularly relieved by this development, as competing individually meant shouldering greater responsibility.
Richard’s next words made everyone even more concerned about Yun Xingze’s situation: “St. Clythus has always been formidable in individual competitions, and they’ll do anything to win. Though they’ve never technically broken any rules, the regulations have been amended multiple times because of them. While they’ve toned it down in recent years, their tactics remain extremely underhanded…”
With that, Richard played a team match video of St. Clythus versus Yuanshan.
In the footage, two St. Clythus players pinned down Yuanshan’s main fighter but didn’t eliminate him immediately.
After restraining their opponent, the St. Clythus competitors deployed smoke grenades against him, while a third member took out an energy whip to “humiliate” him, lashing it repeatedly across the commander’s head.
It didn’t violate any rules, but it was deeply unsettling to watch.
Predictably, Yuanshan’s other two teammates couldn’t stand by and hesitated before coming to assist; only to fall right into the trap.
The St. Clythus players locked the commander’s mech joints and threw the entire machine at his teammates.
Caught in a dilemma whether to catch or avoid their falling comrade, the teammates ultimately let their commander crash to the ground.
This disruption led to the remaining Yuanshan members being surrounded and overwhelmed by St. Clythus’s trio.
Just when everyone thought this was already excessively cruel, their expressions darkened further upon seeing footage of a particular St. Clythus competitor in individual matches.
This player, named Bai Jiashi, piloted an S+-class Comet mech and fought like a venomous serpent—devious and ruthless.
In the video, he stood atop his opponent’s mech back while the referee counted down, systematically breaking each of the mech’s fingers one by one. The crippled mech twitched in pain, unable to resist.
The snapping sounds of breaking fingers synchronized perfectly with the referee’s count, sharp and crisp.
Within ten seconds, Bai Jiashi had broken exactly ten fingers.
The victim would likely develop PTSD from hearing referee counts after this experience.
“This…” Oliar said in disbelief. “This combat style is downright disgusting.”
Richard solemnly added:
“They’re genuinely skilled, and their coach personally instructs them on how to psychologically break opponents. Even last year’s champions, Noah Military Academy, avoided facing them. A week from now will bring another brutal match. Before then, I need all of you to adjust your combat approaches…”
Richard opened a document outlining a detailed training plan for the team.
Yun Xingze glanced over and realized Richard wanted him to engage in less overt maneuvering and more underhanded tactics. Essentially hoping he’d become more cunning.
Yun Xingze said to Richard, “Coach, I think I’m plenty cunning. Teacher Zhuo even praised me for my moral bankruptcy.”
“Against St. Clythus, it’s not enough,” Richard replied seriously. “You need to abandon not just morality but humanity itself. Ideally, you should be even more ruthless than them. If you can’t manage that, then let your cat do it.”
Yun Xingze thought Richard was joking, but strangely, all his teammates nodded in agreement.
“…I’ll do my best,” Yun Xingze could only reply.
Meanwhile, in the adjacent meeting room, St. Clythus’s members were holding their own briefing.
Their coach, Gamma, addressed the team: “Our only goal is victory. Remember, St. Clythus Mecha Academy represents the hope and glory of the Black Swan Galaxy. Winning is our duty.”
The Black Swan Galaxy was located in the remote outer reaches, bordering the desolate frontier of the Empire. With scarce resources and sparse population, its development had always been sluggish.
However, St. Clythus Mecha Academy’s sudden rise as a dark horse in NCLM caught the Empire’s attention. Since then, the Black Swan Galaxy received unprecedented developmental resources, with all indicators showing significant improvement over the past decade.
Many said the common people of Black Swan finally saw hope for the future and St. Clythus Mecha Academy was where that hope began.
Thus, every member of St. Clythus’s team understood one thing clearly: they couldn’t afford to lose and let their galaxy regress.
Gamma distributed files to the team members’ neural interfaces, saying, “This contains every weakness of Starsea Military Academy’s members. Memorize them, they’ll be useful no matter who you face.”
While every team analyzed opponents’ mecha capabilities, St. Clythus went further. They studied their enemies’ psychological vulnerabilities too.
Exploiting both mechanical and human weaknesses, pushing rules to their limits. This was St. Clythus’s combat style.
“Any opponents requiring special attention this time?” Team captain Bai Jiashi asked.
Gamma closed his eyes briefly. “Luo Wenchuan is naturally troublesome, but there’s another you should focus on.”
Bai Jiashi looked at the holographic display where one name was circled, Yun Xingze.
“An enigma, an Omega with flashy techniques,” Gamma said with a cold smile. “Omegas have obvious flaws, poor stamina. Whoever faces him, exhaust him first. Then you can dominate the match. Be merciless, stomp on him after winning to create psychological trauma. Makes future encounters easier.”
Bai Jiashi blinked his slender, refined eyes. “Coach, isn’t that too cruel?”
“Isn’t that your specialty?” Gamma countered.
Bai Jiashi curled his lips into a harmless smile: “But I’d have to meet him first. If he’s not my enemy, I’d still feel sorry for him. After all, he’s an Omega.”
His tone carried a hint of chivalrous pity.
After both school teams finished their meetings, they emerged from the conference room and came face to face.
The air grew still.
Compared to Gikot’s cold arrogance, St. Clythus appeared far more low-key, each member carrying a rustic simplicity from their underdeveloped star system yet there was also an undercurrent of wildness.
Gamma stepped forward first, flashing a bright smile: “Didn’t expect to run into you here.” He exchanged a few enthusiastic pleasantries with Richard.
Then, Gamma turned his gaze to Yun Xingze, admiration in his voice: “Ah, an Omega. Your school is truly impressive. I wonder who’ll have the honor of facing you in a match. Bai Jiashi, what do you think?”
Bai Jiashi also approached, eyeing Yun Xingze with curiosity before offering an earnest smile: “The capital planet really does nurture beauty. St. Clythus has no Omegas this striking not even in the entire Black Swan Galaxy.”
Luo Wenchuan, hearing this, felt a twinge of discomfort and subtly blocked their line of sight.
“We heard you defeated Gikot,” Gamma said, his lips curling as he glanced at the members of Starsea Academy. “Truly unexpected.”
Yun Xingze couldn’t shake the feeling that this coach’s smile hid a knife.
Bai Jiashi’s scrutinizing gaze also unsettled him like a hunter sizing up prey.
“Your victory over Yuanshan was equally hard to believe,” Yun Xingze replied, lifting his eyes to meet Gamma’s with a faint smile.
The atmosphere chilled instantly.
“I’m very much looking forward to our match,” Gamma said, his gaze sweeping over Yun Xingze as his smile thinned. “I’m curious, how long will your luck hold?”
“We’ve never relied on luck,” Richard said flatly. “Gamma, you’re as unpleasant as ever.”
“Is that so? I find that hard to believe,” Gamma replied slowly. “Then let’s wait and see.”
With that, he plastered on a polite smile and led the St. Clythus team away.
The two teams walked in opposite directions. St. Clythus exuding effortless confidence, while the Starsea cadets struggled to maintain their composure.
Even someone as composed as Yun Xingze found it difficult to reconcile the ruthless, underhanded fighter from the solo combat footage with the fair-skinned, seemingly guileless Alpha who had just smiled so innocently Bai Jiashi.
During the day’s training, the Starsea team pushed themselves harder than usual.
Not only was St. Clythus a formidable opponent, but their behavior had also left a bitter taste.
None of them wanted to lose to a team like that.
That night, as Yun Xingze returned to his room, he was startled to find Luo Wenchuan hauling in a gaming pod.
“You… why did you bring this here?” Yun Xingze asked, bewildered.
Luo Wenchuan looked at him and arched a brow. “To help you rediscover your competitive drive. And to discuss tactics.”
Yun Xingze scratched his head. “Senior, isn’t this too much trouble for you at this hour…”
“You said it yourself,” Luo Wenchuan countered. “Only I can ignite your fighting spirit. So, it’s my duty to train with you.”
Seeing Luo Wenchuan go through the trouble of helping him, Yun Xingze accepted his gesture of moving the gaming pod over.
Before long, both of them logged into the game Mecha Star simultaneously.
However, when Yun Xingze searched for the name “L” on the leaderboard, he found it had disappeared.
The top spot had been taken by someone else, a player with the ID “Then I’ll Protect You.”
“What’s going on?” Yun Xingze emerged from his gaming pod and knocked on the adjacent door. “Da Chuan, Da Chuan, your top ranking is gone.”
The door to Luo Wenchuan’s gaming pod opened as he poked his head out, his hair slightly disheveled from just removing the helmet.
His narrow eyes looked at Yun Xingze as he calmly asked, “Gone?”
Yun Xingze nodded. “Yeah, first place has been taken by a different ID.”
But Luo Wenchuan feigned seriousness and said, “Really? I just checked, and I’m still ranked first on the leaderboard.”
After speaking, Luo Wenchuan retreated back into his gaming pod, the door automatically closing behind him.
Baffled, Yun Xingze returned to his own pod. Just as he was about to double-check the rankings, he noticed numerous messages flooding in.
He randomly opened one, it was from Hebrew.
[IceShavedForYou]: “What’s wrong with you?! Saying you don’t have time for PK matches while secretly dating someone?!”
[IceShavedForYou]: “Is this game for dating?! And you even changed to matching couple names?! How immature can you be? don’t you have any ambition left?!”
Yun Xingze froze.
The next second, realization struck him about what Hebrew’s words truly meant.
