A group of people first arrived at the armory where the mechs were parked. Zhao De operated the instructional terminal swiftly, and soon, everyone received their corresponding mech number.

These training mechs were small-scale models—under fifteen meters tall—and over 80% mechanically operated.

Li Xiao stepped into the cockpit. When he pushed the control lever, he noticed a massive issue with this particular mech: the latency was as high as a full second. Normally, anything exceeding 0.2 seconds should have been sent for repairs immediately.

All the students piloted their mechs out of the armory. Following behind the rest, Li Xiao almost collided with the mech in front of him.

Soon, a lackey’s voice blared over the public channel: “Why did you bump into me?! Do you even know how to drive?!”

Another voice chimed in: “Who was it?”

The first lackey replied: “Li Xiao!”

Immediately, a wave of laughter erupted over the comms.

By the time they reached the exit, Li Xiao had mostly adapted to the latency. With a subtle flick of his mech’s leg, he tripped the mech ahead, sending it crashing straight into the wall.

“Why did you run into the wall yourself?” Li Xiao asked calmly.

The lackey scrambled in a panic to regain his footing. By the time he wanted to snap back, Li Xiao had already walked far ahead.

Over the public channel, Qian Can laughed even louder: “Can’t even drive yourself, yet you’re shouting so loudly!”

The group that had been laughing earlier went dead silent.

_

The first half hour of practical training consisted of one-on-one exercises. Zhao De would correct each person individually before letting them practice freely.

Li Xiao’s opponent was Meng Tao. The three fixed movements for the drill were the horizontal blade parry, the draw-and-thrust, and the reverse-grip slash. The students in the class had been learning mechs for two months, so performing these three standard movements wasn’t difficult for them.

The first ten pairs finished quickly, and soon it was Li Xiao and Meng Tao’s turn.

Meng Tao intentionally stood closer than the designated distance. The moment Zhao De rang the buzzer, he executed a draw-and-thrust, the tip of his blade stabbing straight toward Li Xiao’s cockpit.

An attack of this caliber couldn’t pierce a cockpit, but a novice wouldn’t know that; seeing a blade tip lunging at them would cause them to dodge reflexively out of instinct. Meng Tao simply wanted to see Li Xiao make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

Clang!

Before the thrust could even fully extend, the blade was parried. The shockwaves traveling up the control lever made Meng Tao’s wrists go numb, and the smirk on his face froze.

Li Xiao smoothly blocked the strike with a reverse-grip blade and asked flatly, “The instructor didn’t say this was a sparring match, did he?”

That must have been a fluke! Meng Tao gritted his teeth. “I was just doing the required movement. What are you doing?”

Li Xiao replied, “I was also just doing the required movement.”

Meng Tao called out to Zhao De over the public channel: “Instructor, Li Xiao altered the practice movements without permission.”

From the safety zone, Zhao De reviewed the playback of the movements and announced over the channel, “A reverse-grip slash combined with a horizontal parry increases the difficulty by one tier. As a standalone combination, Li Xiao executed it perfectly according to standard. Very well done.”

No one expected Zhao De to praise Li Xiao. Even Jiang Hao and the others were somewhat surprised. Wasn’t this instructor supposed to have a grudge against Li Xiao? He was supposed to be on Meng Tao’s side.

One of the lackeys, deeply dissatisfied, spoke up mockingly over the channel: “We never said we could use combos. Instructor, you can’t give Li Xiao special treatment just because he’s a prince.”

“You are insulting my integrity!” Zhao De’s voice grew exceptionally stern. “If anyone questions my teaching methods, you are welcome to file a complaint with the disciplinary office at any time!”

The lackey shut his mouth instantly, thoroughly intimidated by the roar.

The buzzer rang again. Meng Tao and Li Xiao retracted their blades and proceeded to the next movement.

“This time, it’s your turn to thrust.” Meng Tao refused to be outdone by Li Xiao, preparing to crush him with an even more flawless combo.

Li Xiao said, “For safety’s sake, let’s just stick to our own movements.”

Meng Tao grew impatient. “One turn each, it’s only fair.”

Li Xiao drew his blade swiftly and thrust straight forward.

Meng Tao had already mapped out his counter-combo in his mind, but when he saw the blade tip lunging at him with blistering speed, panic seized him. He reflexively pulled back his movement lever while his other hand frantically mashed several command buttons in a rush.

Consequently, his mech retreated in utter disarray, executing a parry before the reverse-grip blade was even fully drawn—a complete mess.

“Beautiful!” Jiang Hao shouted. Noting the dead silence on the public channel, he quickly added, “I mean, Boss’s straight thrust was perfectly on point.”

Qin Le echoed, “Indeed. To make such a simple movement as a straight thrust look so elegant.”

Song Jin tapped the buzzer twice to signify a “+1.” If his throat hadn’t been feeling uncomfortable, he would have definitely humiliated Meng Tao with a play-by-play commentary. Watching this clown jump around all day was getting exhausting.

The silenced students began questioning reality. Wasn’t it said that Li Xiao had never learned how to pilot mechs before? He certainly doesn’t look like an amateur!

Faced with the exact same move, Li Xiao had countered calmly and effortlessly. Yet when it was Meng Tao’s turn, he fell into utter chaos. The difference was night and day; without this direct comparison, no one would have realized Li Xiao’s skills far surpassed Meng Tao’s.

“Excellent,” Zhao De’s praising voice echoed over the channel. “The straight thrust is the most basic movement, but Li Xiao executed it seamlessly. The lift and the angle of the blade tip were flawless—the best performance so far today. As for Meng Tao, there’s no need to say more. Practice on your own. I don’t recommend beginners jumping straight into combos. You can’t fat-finger your way to success.”

Though it was a completely objective evaluation, it cut deeper than any insult laced with profanity. Meng Tao felt a suffocating sensation, as if pierced by a thousand arrows. To lose so miserably on just three basic movements!

Upon hearing the prompt, Li Xiao retreated to the back of the formation. His monitors caught a glimpse of a rapidly approaching mech, and with a swift sidestep, he evaded the incoming blade tip.

Missing the target, the attacker spun around and lunged forward again. Li Xiao drew his blade and held it horizontally across his chest to parry.

Hearing the commotion, the others looked over and saw a second-year L55 mech frantically hacking at Li Xiao’s L50.

“Which class is that from?”

“Instructor! Something’s happening!”

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

Zhao De switched his monitor screens. Upon seeing the situation, he pulled the L55 into the public channel and issued a stern warning: “Second-year student, cease your attack immediately and return to your own class!”

Shortly after, Lin Zhou’s sinister, mocking voice echoed over the comms, sending shivers down everyone’s spines. “Just having a little sparring session during free activity time. Don’t be so rigid, Instructor.”

Zhao De barked, “I am issuing my second formal warning. Return immediately!”

Instead of stopping, Lin Zhou’s onslaught became even more ferocious. Everyone watched as Li Xiao was forced to continuously parry and dodge, seemingly left with no room to counterattack.

Qin Le and Qian Can wanted to rush over to help, but within two steps, they were blocked by Meng Tao’s lackeys. Jiang Hao took the opportunity to dash toward the fray, but he was intercepted as well.

Zhao De triggered the alarm, intending to summon the security guards. Suddenly, a strange floral scent drifted through the air. Before losing consciousness, he faintly heard a voice: “Stand still. You saw nothing.”

Across the massive training grounds, countless mechs were sparring, so students from other classes didn’t notice the anomaly on Li Xiao’s side. Even if they caught a glimpse, they assumed it was a standard sparring match.

Li Xiao evaded Lin Zhou’s continuous slashes coming from various angles and said calmly over the channel, “Senior Lin, didn’t I mention that I haven’t fully recovered from my injuries?”

Lin Zhou sneered, “It’s just a little exercise. Your hands aren’t crippled, are they?”

Over the public channel, many people shouted for Lin Zhou to stop, yet no one dared to call the guards or step in to intervene. The actions of Meng Tao and his lackeys made it clear that this situation was beyond what they could—or dared—to handle.

Still, for Li Xiao to hold out against Lin Zhou for this long was incredibly impressive!

Jiang Hao had never seen Li Xiao pilot a mech before, and he was genuinely worried his boss would suffer. Driven to desperation, he had no choice but to unleash his secret technique: “3233233…”

Hearing this oddly familiar sequence over the channel, Qian Can and Qin Le turned their eyes toward Jiang Hao at the same time. They watched as his mech executed a vicious sweep kick, taking down the two mechs blocking him and breaking through the defense. It was a spectacular sight.

Qian Can decided to try pressing the same input sequence. Sure enough, his mech executed a fiercely aggressive sweep kick, delivering more than double the force of a standard sweep.

“Holy crap! It actually works!” Qian Can bounded forward joyfully to catch up with Jiang Hao.

Seeing this, Qin Le intended to replicate the success, but the lackeys blocking him were already on guard. He decided to try a different sequence: “2232322…”

After mashing the inputs rapidly, his mech suddenly lunged forward and executed a direct groin grab.

The lackey was startled and jumped back two paces. “Your tactics are way too dirty!”

Qin Le covered his face in his cockpit. His reputation was completely ruined. Being in a foreign country could truly feel helpless sometimes.

Meanwhile, Lin Zhou accelerated to full power, directing every blade strike squarely at the cockpit. At this level of force and velocity, the blade could absolutely pierce through the protective canopy of the cockpit.

Yet every single strike was parried effortlessly, like a heavy hammer hitting cotton. Lin Zhou grew increasingly frustrated, his attacks becoming reckless as his adrenaline surged.

Noticing Jiang Hao and the others rushing over from the corner of his eye, Li Xiao decided not to drag this out any longer. Lin Zhou wasn’t just messing around; he was fighting with genuine lethal intent.

The moment Lin Zhou spotted an opening in the defense and lunged forward once more, Li Xiao maneuvered his mech to twist sideways in a split second. The blade in his hand spun fluidly, meeting Lin Zhou’s next rapid strike.

Before Lin Zhou could fully extend his blade, it was violently deflected away, forcing him to retreat to evade Li Xiao’s aggressive counteroffensive. One step back led to another, until he found himself entirely unable to find room to counter.

Lin Zhou attempted to dodge left to mount a counterattack. In that flash of lightning, Li Xiao spun back instantly, driving his blade tip straight behind him.

Boom!

The blade tip pierced cleanly into the mech’s abdomen, instantly blowing apart the main circuitry.

Lin Zhou thought his own strike had succeeded, but a dozen red warning windows suddenly flashed across his control console. He stared at his external monitors in disbelief. His blade had merely grazed past Li Xiao’s flank, while Li Xiao’s blade had thoroughly skewered his mech.

“Impossible!” Lin Zhou slammed his console, screaming, “It’s a system error! It must be a system error!”

A distance away, Jiang Hao and Qian Can stopped in their tracks mid-dash. Meng Tao and the rest of the students stared blankly, unable to believe their eyes. What had just happened?! How did a seemingly defenseless Li Xiao completely destroy an enraged Lin Zhou in the blink of an eye?

Qin Le looked over at Song Jin, who had remained quiet the entire time, lost in thought. Did Boss stay completely unfazed because he already knew how strong Li Xiao actually was?

“So strong!” someone praised genuinely over the public channel.

“Seriously… that’s not the skill level of a freshman. Has he really never learned mechs before?”

“That’s at least a third-year level. Senior Lin ranks near the top of the second-year ladder.”

“Could it be a fluke? For a freshman, this strength is terrifying!”

Listening to the discussions over the channel, Meng Tao felt his head throbbing with rage. He had spent the entire day suppressing his frustration with nowhere to vent. Seeing that Song Jin hadn’t moved an inch from start to finish, he figured he would pick on the easier target and thrust his blade forward.

Crash!

A mech head tumbled down right past Meng Tao’s monitors.

Accompanied by the harsh crackle of static, Meng Tao stared wide-eyed at the screen, which was now filled with flashing red warning windows. What just happened?!

The spectating students turned their monitors around sharply upon hearing the commotion from behind. They saw Song Jin smoothly retracting his blade. In front of him stood Meng Tao’s decapitated mech, its head rolling slowly across the ground until it stopped right by Song Jin’s feet.

“Whoa—!”

A point-blank execution by decapitation?! The students’ pupils dilated in sheer shock. Didn’t they say the first-year students from the Shengya Empire Military Academy hadn’t started practical mech training yet?!

The next moment, a rhythmic buzzing echoed over the public channel—the international universal dark code.

After deciphering it, the entire field fell into collective silence. The translated message read:

Trash can’t even pull off a sneak attack.

Meng Tao unbuckled his safety harness, stood up abruptly, and kicked his pilot seat viciously.

In the safety zone, seeing that the plan had failed, Qi Ge, who was controlling Zhao De, suppressed his pheromones. Before leaving, he cast one final look toward Song Jin and Li Xiao’s mechs, a strong desire for conquest flickering in his eyes.

As the pheromones dissipated, Zhao De snapped back to his senses. Shaking his groggy head, he looked up at the field and nearly lost his mind. One mech was missing its head, four were smashed to pieces, and another was completely skewered.

“What on earth are you all doing?!” Zhao De roared furiously into the channel. “Everyone shut down your mechs and assemble right now!”

Just as Zhao De stepped out of the safety zone, an official hovercar touched down. Yan Qing stepped out from the driver’s seat.

“I heard there was an incident?” Yan Qing rushed over with a grim expression. “Where is Li Xiao? Is he injured?”

“He’s perfectly fine,” Zhao De muttered dismissively, marching toward the assembly point with a dark face.

Yan Qing followed closely behind. Seeing the wreckage and parts scattered all over the ground, an ominous feeling welled up inside him.

“Whoever damaged a mech, step forward!” Zhao De stood in front of the formation with a deeply furrowed brow.

One of Meng Tao’s lackeys raised his hand. “Li Xiao skewered Senior Lin’s mech! And Song Jin did it too! And that Hao guy, and that Qian… Qian Kuai (One Thousand Bucks)!”

“My name is Qian Can!” Qian Can snapped back, raising his hand to counter-report. “Li Xiao was maliciously attacked by Senior Lin. We wanted to step in to stop it, but this bunch blocked us. What were their intentions? They wanted to watch Li Xiao die!”

The lackey countered, “You guys were the ones who moved first!”

Jiang Hao argued, “I was acting in self-defense!”

Another lackey yelled, “You grabbed my groin!”

Qin Le said stiffly, “I was also acting in self-defense!”

After listening for a while, Yan Qing and Zhao De finally pieced together the sequence of events. A group of students had turned their designated practice session into a massive brawl, leaving the mechs in shambles.

Zhao De looked at Li Xiao. “Do you have any explanation?”

Li Xiao replied, “Lin Zhou started it.”

Zhao De looked at Song Jin. “And you?”

Song Jin replied, “Meng Tao ambushed me.”

Zhao De turned to Meng Tao. “What do you have to say?”

Meng Tao muttered, “I was just practicing the straight thrust.”

Yan Qing felt a massive headache coming on just listening to them. He called the base duty personnel to pull up the surveillance footage, playing it right in front of everyone before issuing punishments on the spot.

The five lackeys who maliciously blocked others were handed an 8,000-word reflection essay each. Meng Tao, for violating rules by initiating an ambush and causing structural damage to a mech, received 8,000 words. Li Xiao, Song Jin, Jiang Hao, and Qian Can, for using excessive force in self-defense, were penalized with 3,000 words each.

Yan Qing added, “The reflections must be handwritten. All of you will report to my office after class and stay there writing until six o’clock before you can leave.”

The students who hadn’t participated breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they were safe. But the next second, Yan Qing spoke again: “The rest of you failed to notify the security guards in a timely manner when the conflict broke out. Everyone will handwrite a 1,000-word reflection by tomorrow.”

It was a total sweep; no one was spared.

Song Jin stepped forward, looking down slightly at Yan Qing. “Can’t you see Lin Zhou’s malice? How does Li Xiao’s counter count as excessive force? Is this how your Danse empire military academy handles things—just sweeping it under the rug?”

To call out the Dean of Students to his face left everyone bowing their heads, not daring to make a sound.

Seeing this, Meng Tao also walked over, glaring at Song Jin before turning to Yan Qing. “Like I said, I was suddenly attacked by Song Jin during practice. Why do I have to write more than them?!”

Yan Qing looked at Song Jin first. “Because Li Xiao had ample opportunity to call the guards, yet he chose to dismantle the mech instead. On that basis, I judge it as excessive force. Of course, there is another important factor.”

Song Jin asked, “What?”

Yan Qing replied, “If he doesn’t write it, you definitely won’t write yours either. Consider it as him keeping you company.”

Song Jin: “…”

Song Jin thought about it, found himself unable to argue, and calmly turned back to the formation.

The spectating students were completely baffled. He actually accepted such an absurd reason?

Li Xiao felt his emotions grow complicated.

“As for you—” Yan Qing turned his gaze to Meng Tao. “Today’s lesson was on the straight thrust, not a charging ambush. Writing 8,000 words is considered lenient. If you have any objections, you are welcome to file a complaint with the higher authorities.”

Li Xiao watched the young Dean of Students silently. He had a gentle demeanor, but his execution was resolute and unexpectedly unyielding.

_

While Li Xiao and the group were on their way to Yan Qing’s office, some students uploaded the clips of Li Xiao and Song Jin’s counters to their private study group chats.

[Is this level of strength even normal? They’re only first-years! Suddenly I feel so useless QuQ]

The two videos completely set the group chat ablaze. Unable to wrap their heads around it, the students forwarded the clips to the academy’s internal forum. The post exploded in popularity almost instantly.

Several upperclassmen from the mech department began analyzing the footage frame by frame.

[I saw some comments saying it doesn’t look that hard. My buddy and I just tried replicating it in the simulation system. For Li Xiao’s counter—the sidestep and pivot—I couldn’t successfully evade the strike even once with that exact body tilt angle.]

[Song Jin’s decapitation strike had zero wind-up time. I tried it ten times and couldn’t cleanly sever the mech’s head once.]

[A final piece of advice for anyone whose hands are itching for a fight: value your life and don’t provoke them.]

The comment section below the post went wild:

• “Ahhh—who said they didn’t know how to pilot mechs?! If I knew, I would have gone to watch it live!”
• “With this kind of strength, they definitely have the right to skip classes.”
• “Sincere question: do geniuses just skip the learning process entirely?”
• “I’m a fourth-year, and my pivot isn’t as smooth as Li Xiao’s.”
• “The sheer pressure from Song Jin’s decapitation strike is insane. Just watching the video makes my heart race.”

On the very first day of class, Li Xiao and Song Jin secured legendary status. The relevant intelligence was quickly dispatched to various factions.

In the Danse Royal Palace, Li Ji listened to Old Liu’s report. “It was that kid from the Meng family causing trouble again?”

Old Liu replied, “We can’t confirm the exact trigger just yet. It might have just been a simple brawl.”

“Report back once you have the clear details,” Li Ji said, signing a file without looking up. “Dismissed.”

Old Liu bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Once Old Liu stepped out, Li Ji couldn’t help but smile slightly while signing the remaining paperwork. “Not bad. Never loses a fight.”

__

Inside the office, desks were lined up in a row. Everyone was handed a pen and a small notebook, forced to sit and write for an hour.

Halfway through, Yan Qing received a call from the general administration office and stepped into the room across the hall to take it.

Meng Tao slammed his pen onto the desk, glaring at Li Xiao. “This is all your fault.”

Li Xiao didn’t bother responding. Speaking a single word would be disrespectful to his recovering throat.

Song Jin rested his chin on his hand, spinning his pen rapidly through his fingers before suddenly flicking it directly at Meng Tao. “What are you staring at? Keep it up and see if I don’t gouge your eyes out.”

Caught off guard, Meng Tao was struck squarely between the brows. Losing all composure, he slammed the table and lunged across. “Song Jin, don’t think I won’t touch you!”

The atmosphere in the office reached a boiling point.

Yan Qing walked back in to see the commotion, his expression darkening instantly. “Looking to increase your word count?”

Within a minute, Meng Tao and his lackeys settled down completely.

Song Jin switched hands to prop up his chin, sliding his blank notebook over to Li Xiao. “Babe, write it for me.”

Li Xiao looked over. “Where is your pen?”

Song Jin replied smoothly, “It flew away just now.”

Li Xiao silently closed the notebook. Seeing the slight smirk on Song Jin’s face, he said quietly, “There are pens in the dorm. Take it back and write it there.”

Song Jin: “…”

None of them wrote anything substantial. The moment the clock struck six, they bolted from the office, refusing to stay for even half a second more.

Li Xiao walked at the back of the group. Pausing, he turned to Yan Qing. “Dean Yan, where are you from originally?”

Yan Qing, who was packing his things to head home, looked up. “Why do you ask?”

Li Xiao probed casually, pretending it was a passing thought, “You feel very familiar, like an elder from my own family.”

Yan Qing smiled gently. “Many people say that.”

Song Jin chimed in nonchalantly, “The elders in my family don’t assign reflection essays.”

Yan Qing: “…”

Li Xiao nodded slightly, turning around to leave the office with Song Jin. Once the sound of their footsteps faded completely, Yan Qing’s clenched hand loosened, letting his pen roll out of his palm.

In the Dorms.

Late at night, Song Jin sat in his room, reluctantly attempting to write his reflection. Before he could even finish a single line, frustration took over. He tossed the pen aside, leaped over the low balcony wall, and knocked on Li Xiao’s door.

From inside the room came Li Xiao’s voice: “It’s unlocked.”

Song Jin pushed the door open to find Li Xiao dressed in casual clothes at his desk, his reflection notebook open alongside the data sent by Wei Feng.

“Lin Zhou was sent back to the psychiatric department again,” Song Jin murmured, walking up behind Li Xiao and resting his chin on top of his head to look at the screen together.

“Mhm,” Li Xiao acknowledged.

“I’m sleeping with you tonight,” Song Jin announced.

“Why?”

“To treat your throat.”

Li Xiao paused, turning his head slightly to look at him. “What’s the logical connection there?”

Song Jin stared back at him. “I heard sleeping next to the person you like is highly restorative.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Song Jin raised an eyebrow. “No reaction at all?”

Li Xiao gestured for him to come closer. Song Jin leaned in with a bright smile, only to have a piece of candy stuffed into his mouth the next second.

“…”

Li Xiao said, “Just bought it. Fruit flavor. How is it?”

Song Jin huffed in dissatisfaction, “Mediocre.”

Li Xiao turned back to the screen. A moment later, reality clicked, and he spun around. “Your throat is inflamed, you can’t eat that. Spit it out, quickly.”

Song Jin turned on his heel to leave. “It’s already in my mouth. There’s no returning it.”

Li Xiao rose to give chase. “Hurry up. Do you want your throat to hurt for a few more days?”

Driven into a corner, Song Jin leaped across the bed to evade him. “You were the one who gave it to me.”

After chasing him through a few rounds, Li Xiao finally managed to catch him. However, Song Jin deliberately crunched the candy into pieces with two sharp bites, looking entirely smug.

Without a word, Li Xiao pulled Song Jin into a firm embrace and kissed him.

Song Jin froze. Before he could react, every single piece of broken candy in his mouth was thoroughly swept away.

What… just happened?!