Robot

Han Qingyu lost. Defending with the sword in his left hand, he held out until the very end, but right up until the source energy block inside his war box was completely drained, he never found a genuine opening to counterattack. A few forced attempts along the way had failed to produce the desired result. This was the combat experience of a ten-year veteran of the sighting frontline. Normally, once they isolated a regular Great Spike on the battlefield and closed in for the kill, they rarely exposed an opening that would give the Great Spike a chance to break through with a counterattack. And this was precisely what Han Qingyu lacked most right now. Combat on the ring came to a halt. Lao Jian stood less than two meters in front of him, holding his iron sword level and pointing it at Han Qingyu's throat... Then, his expression wavered for a moment, as though recalling the past, and he instinctively tilted the blade slightly aside. Then—*clang!* The blade snapped. As the greater part of the sword fell to the ground, it shattered into hundreds of tiny fragments. Only now did the blue light of the war box on Lao Jian's back slowly dim. "Shameless," Milla muttered under her breath from the stands, having finally seen through Lao Jian's underhandedness. At the same time, the corner of Lao Jian's mouth curled into a smile on the platform. Calm and detached like a senior martial arts master out of a Gu Long novel, he said in a rather quiet voice: "In the end, I did teach you something... Next time before a fight, remember to swap in a fresh source energy block." Han Qingyu rolled his eyes at him. "Didn't you give me this one?!" he retorted, his voice stifled with annoyance. "That's right, which is why the real lesson is that in battle, you must constantly monitor and control your source energy consumption and remaining reserve." Lao Jian's expression showed not the slightest ripple as he continued his lecture: "Opponents on the battlefield, whether Great Spikes or humans, won't ever give you a chance to change your source energy block... Once your energy runs dry, others will slaughter you like a chicken." With that, Lao Jian walked past Han Qingyu with an impassive face. Of course, he had no idea that at this very moment, with the source energy of both sides completely exhausted, Han Qingyu could actually slaughter *him* like a chicken. After absorbing the two metal pieces, Han Qingyu's physical resilience had far surpassed that of an ordinary veteran. Moreover, he possessed liquid source energy inside his body. While the surge of energy from this reservoir was far from as torrential as that driven by a three-dimensional apparatus, it was source energy nonetheless. *So going forward, should I actually become a reckless brute who swings wide and trades violent blows?! Fight an attrition battle—once both sides run dry, I win! ... But what about Great Spikes? Would I just trade chops head-on with a Great Spike, too?!* While Han Qingyu stood dazed, pondering and searching for his own fighting style for the first time, Lao Jian had already walked off the platform with a calm expression and steady steps. The few people in the stands stood up to offer polite applause. Lao Jian raised a hand in acknowledgment, but didn't stop. "Lao Jian, where are you going?" Regiment Commander Li Wangqiang leaned forward to ask. "Need to pee." Lao Jian answered flatly, his figure disappearing at the far end of the arena. Outside the combat arena, Wen Jifei, He Tangtang, and the others finally saw Han Qingyu emerge. "Qingzi, how'd it go?" They crowded around immediately. Many other recruits had gathered at the same time, nearly all of them looking expectantly at Han Qingyu. "Lost," Han Qingyu said calmly, then turned to head toward the post office. The answer wasn't really a surprise; at most, it simply lacked the explosive thrill that a victory would have brought. Watching his somewhat weary figure walk away, the recruits felt a brief pang of disappointment. Then, upon reconsidering... they realized that most of them should have been rooting for Lao Jian in the first place. After all, Lao Jian was the one whose fusion degree was closer to theirs... To be precise, Lao Jian was Grade C, which was actually higher than most of them. Around the same time, inside the arena. A group of seven or eight recruits who had rushed into the arena the moment it opened to use the restroom found the bathroom door closed, so they waited outside. There was someone inside. And then came a sound: "Pfft!" Lao Jian leaned over the washbasin, facing the mirror. He brought up some water with his hand to wipe his mouth and chin, thinking, *Holy shit. Good thing I held it in on the ring, or the nickname "Blood Calabash Baby" would've stuck with me for life.* Was this the scale of a Grade A genius's source energy surge?! To command and mobilize such a massive volume of source energy at once, so dense and fierce. Yet something didn't add up. It wasn't as if he had never traded blows with a Grade A from his own intake year, and they clearly hadn't been anywhere near this ferocious... So even among Grade As, it seemed there were vast disparities, just as Grade Cs differed from person to person. It looked like he really might have brought Azure a super freak second only to Grade S. Lao Jian didn't entertain other possibilities. As an ordinary veteran, it was nearly impossible for him to question the "law" that one's source energy fusion degree set their fate for life; psychologically, habit also prevented him from questioning or doubting Han Qingyu. "Pfft." Another mouthful. While cupping water to rinse his mouth, wash his face, and check the mirror for any blood left on his teeth, Lao Jian thought: *Luckily, that brat's control over source energy is still unrefined, and he sorely lacks combat experience. Otherwise, I might really have lost all face today... Mm, I have to find a way to help him improve on both fronts as soon as possible.* Not considering in the least that once Han Qingyu actually improved, he himself would lose next time, Lao Jian pondered this while turning on the tap to rinse the sink. He then smoothed down his hair, opened the door, and walked out. A dozen eyes met his. They stared at one another in awkward silence for about two seconds. "What are you looking at? If I didn't shut the door, were you going to line up and pee next to your instructor?!" Seeing the recruits outside, Lao Jian blurted defensively, then straightened his back and strode out with composure. Just vomiting blood... No big deal. The recruits stepped into the restroom afterward. One of the sharp-eyed among them immediately spotted a lingering trace of crimson at the bottom of the sink. Piecing that together with the two "pfft" sounds from moments before... "Holy crap, Han Qingyu beat Instructor Lao till he coughed up blood!" that recruit declared decisively. Soon after those recruits returned, two versions of the rumor spread rapidly. The first version: Although Han Qingyu lost, he beat Instructor Lao until he coughed up blood—Eraser's strongest recruit in ten years was truly terrifying. The second version: Ever wonder why Instructor Lao's nickname is Blood Calabash Baby? There's a rather touching story behind it: Instructor Lao has a unique physical condition that actually conflicts with source energy, so every time he fights in an apparatus, he coughs up blood. And after coughing blood, he grows even stronger—spitting blood in every battle, winning every battle after spitting blood; that was the origin of Blood Calabash Baby. *** Lao Jian personally heard these two versions of the rumor on his way to the training grounds that afternoon. At the time, he was preparing to meet the recruits for the first time in his capacity as acting head instructor... The moment he heard them, he felt thoroughly sickened. Particularly upon hearing the second version, Instructor Lao nearly coughed up a mouthful of old blood right on the spot. Having managed with great effort to compose himself, convincing himself to focus on the bigger picture and preserve the dignity of the acting head instructor, Lao Jian reached the training field before the recruits had formed their ranks. Standing by the edge of the grounds, he swept his eyes across them with a calm expression. *Shhk!* He suddenly drew a dead iron straight sword from his back and casually tossed it into the air. The sword spun slowly upright in the air while tracing a precise arc, falling toward Han Qingyu. Han Qingyu caught it effortlessly with one hand. Lao Jian spoke up: "Your left-hand swordplay isn't half bad either. Since the corps happened to have spares, I put in a requisition for you... You can use twin swords from now on." These words were spoken in a flat tone; he sounded quite cool. Then, Lao Jian followed up with: "Remember to get your uniform altered." The motherly remark ruined the cool impression entirely. Meanwhile, the recruits finished lining up. "Hello, everyone." Perhaps because he had never served as an instructor before, Lao Jian wasn't used to it, so he simply raised a hand in greeting rather informally. The recruits snapped to attention, chests out, and responded in unison: "Greetings, Head Instructor Lao (Blood)!" The word "Blood" mixed in with "Lao" was inexplicably clear, and it came from more than one person. The recruits hadn't done it on purpose. Whatever the case, they held immense respect and reverence for an active regional squad leader who had spent ten years on the sighting frontline—not to mention the leader of Squad 752, the team that had deployed on the most missions in the entire regiment this year. The trouble was that Captain Lao's nickname, having only just begun to circulate, was already ringing loud and clear. Moreover, also training on the field at the same time were recruits training alongside them from Regiment 491, as well as several other recruit regiments that had returned early after their march had been suspended due to their proximity to Blockade Zone 1123. "Cough, cough..." Lao Jian covered his mouth and coughed a few times. "Whew... My surname is Lao, and my given name is Jian. Over the coming period, I will serve as your head instructor in place of Instructor Zhang... and accompany you through this final month of your recruit training." At these words, the recruits instantly fell silent, their expressions growing solemn and earnest. "Originally, you were all supposed to be on your field march right now, and would only transition into combat training upon your return," Lao Jian continued. "Now that this schedule has been temporarily disrupted, we will move into simulated combat training early over these next couple of days." "Good!" the recruits responded enthusiastically. Having trained for so long, who here didn't want to actually take a sword and hack at something? Especially after Han Qingyu had directly traded blows with an instructor in simulated combat that morning, their enthusiasm and anticipation had been whipped up to a fever pitch. "I never want to be like back at 1123 again—knowing only how to run, forced to watch our instructors risk their lives fighting Great Spikes." This line popped out of the crowd without warning, instantly plunging everyone into silence while their fists clenched tight. After at least ten seconds, someone else spoke up, despondent and mournful: "Yeah. We clearly had our apparatuses on and swords in our hands, yet..." He didn't finish, but the meaning was crystal clear. "Six hundred of us holding swords, yet..." Another sentence left unfinished, its meaning fully delivered. Lao Jian gave a solemn nod and said, "I understand everyone's feelings and thoughts right now... But the reality is that the vast majority of you are not yet ready for live combat sparring." "Huh?" The recruits looked at him, bewildered and disappointed. "Your proficiency and speed in controlling source energy are still insufficient; it's too easy for you to fail to mobilize it in time... Under those conditions, even ordinary iron swords could cause casualties," Lao Jian stated frankly. "Then what about us..." "For now, you can only practice one-sided offensive training," Lao Jian said. "First, gradually become proficient and figure out how to control source energy during combat through this process; only then can you move on to sparring." This meant that the recruits' targets for combat training would only defend and dodge, without counterattacking. Lao Jian finished speaking and nodded toward the new instructors standing beside him. "Your targets for simulated offensive practice—in other words, the training dummies—will be us instructors, including me... And also: Han Qingyu, fall out!" "Whoa—!" Amidst a chorus of astonishment, Han Qingyu took a step to the side. "...Present." At the same time, *clack, clack-clack.* A tin man walked over, coming to a halt not far beside the formation. "Right, and this guy: a simulated combat robot still in the experimental stage within the corps. It will also serve as your sparring partner this time." Lao Jian gestured toward it, then paused thoughtfully before saying, "I believe it's called S-19." A real robot? A source energy robot?! Then couldn't it be deployed on the battlefield in the future?! The recruits' eyes were instantly drawn to the tin man. S-19 stood there, showing no movement, as though it had not yet been rebooted. "Why does it look kind of old? Is this really something just developed?" "Yeah, look... there are even a few spots on its body that look a bit rusty." "Then it can't be made entirely of dead iron." "Of course not! Dead iron doesn't rust. From the looks of it, dead iron was probably only used on critical parts, while the rest is alloy at best... And look at its face—that whole section looks like it's just a thick sheet of black glass, doesn't it?" "It really does... So how is it supposed to spar with us?" "How it spars isn't the point, bro. The real question is: if we accidentally hack it to pieces, do we have to pay for it?" "..." Amid the murmur of discussion, Lao Jian spoke again: "Listen up, everyone. Shortly, all Grade B and above recruits will have S-19 as their simulated combat target... Please feel free to go all out." "Whoa—!" The crowd broke out in clamor once more. At the same time, Han Qingyu raised his hand. "What about me? My offensive training?" "You..." Lao Jian thought for a moment and said, "Here's what we'll do: after today's training ends, I'll give you ten minutes of solo training with S-19." Barely had his words fallen when a young female soldier who looked to be the robot's administrator, around fourteen or fifteen years old, came trotting over with brisk footsteps. "Overtime? That's going to cost extra source energy blocks!" The young girl spoke with dead seriousness, and her penny-pinching manner made many people chuckle. "What are you laughing at? Th-the public's robot consumes source energy too, you know!" She turned her head, glaring with wide, pretty eyes and lifting her chin in righteous indignation. Laughter erupted even louder on the spot. Lao Jian chuckled as well, nodding. "Fine. How about this: fifteen minutes of training every day, and we'll calculate it as one source energy block every seven days. What do you think?" Saying so, he pointed at Han Qingyu. "When the time comes, just ask him for it directly... He has them." Han Qingyu: "..." He was convinced Lao Jian was getting back at him. It was one thing to be made into a target for free labor without pay—after all, he could practice taking hits and dodging. But the problem was, he was a recruit too! Why should he have to pay his own source energy blocks for his own training?! And why that price of one block every seven days?! Pained to death by the cost, Han Qingyu nearly coughed up a mouthful of old blood himself. It wasn't until... the entire afternoon passed, and while acting as a target, he observed and discovered: S-19 was genuinely strong. If Lao Jian hadn't specifically gone over to speak with the girl administrator during the session to have S-19 go easy on them, all the Grade Bs and above from several regiments combined probably wouldn't have landed a single hit. So, sparring against it... Han Qingyu actually found himself looking forward to it. Finally, the afternoon training concluded. The recruits dispersed; some left, while others with nothing better to do lingered nearby to watch. "Hey, you, do you want to rest for a few minutes first?" The young girl administrator walked up to Han Qingyu and asked crossly. There was not the faintest hint of the reaction a girl ought to have upon seeing a handsome guy in her expression; she looked entirely like a determined little merchant bent on making money, caring about nothing in the world except source energy blocks. "Does your robot need to rest?" Han Qingyu smiled, amused, and asked back. "Uh, resting a bit works too. Three minutes, then," the young girl decided. Then she held out her hand, still fierce: "Hand over the source energy block first." "Um, I didn't bring any today. I didn't expect to need one... So can I give it to you tomorrow?" Han Qingyu said aloud, while thinking to himself: *Might as well take advantage of the public dime. If the trial run today isn't great, I'll just welch on it tomorrow.* The young girl looked at him, thought it over, and nodded. "I doubt you'd dare welch." During the three-minute rest, Han Qingyu sat under a tree, wiped away his sweat, and loaded his own source energy block into his war box. He Tangtang and Liu Shiheng had not left the field yet, but Wen Jifei had arrived, and by the looks of it, had already been watching from the sidelines for quite a while. "So during this time, that robot is basically chartered by you, right?" he suddenly dashed over to Han Qingyu and asked eagerly. Han Qingyu nodded. Seeing that Wen Jifei was wearing his apparatus and holding one of Han Qingyu's swords, his eyes filled with anticipation and longing. "Let me take two swings first, Qingzi," Wen Jifei said, his eyes seeming unable to pull away from the dead iron war blade in his hands. "I've never swung a sword before, never cut anything... Down the road, I probably won't have a chance to use a sword, either." The tail end of his sentence dropped in tone. Han Qingyu understood his situation and naturally sympathized. He hurriedly nodded in agreement, preparing to turn around and speak to the young administrator... Wen Jifei had already run over on his own. His social skills had always been top-notch. Who knew what he said to her, but in just a few words, the robot walked over from the side and took up a position opposite him, about a dozen meters away. *Hum.* The three-dimensional apparatus activated, flashing with blue light. Flushed with excitement, Wen Jifei gripped the sword with both hands. "Here it comes... Strike!" Yelling, he made an awkward run-up, leaped into the air, and delivered a jumping downward chop... Laughter broke out all around. The recruits who had watched the Grade Bs and above hack away at the robot all afternoon were thinking at this moment: *Don't jump, Equipment Officer! If you can hit it like that, it'd be a miracle!* The result: *Clang!* A downward cleave landed squarely on S-19's right shoulder—a solid hit! Not only did it hit, but this single strike actually sent S-19, which had stood immovable all afternoon, flying backward until it crashed into a wall to stop. "What... the fuck?!" The onlookers were stunned, and then an uproar ensued: *This is ridiculous! Even an equipment officer hits harder than us?!* At the same time, several female equipment officers watching from afar were overjoyed, beaming with delight. *They must have agreed to let him land a hit, right? And that chop probably just happened to land on Side A...* Han Qingyu thought. Meanwhile, S-19 regained its footing. Wen Jifei closed in and unleashed a flashy reverse spin slash. *Clang!* Another hit. Only this time, the robot didn't fly back; it stood rock-solid, and then rather humanlike, turned its head to look at him with a stiff, dumbfounded expression. From S-19's perspective: it was likely that the heavy first blow had prompted it to adjust its defense level. As for getting hit again, who knew whether it was obeying orders not to dodge, or if Plague-Chicken Fei's erratic swordplay—flipping between sides unpredictably during his strikes—had genuinely faked it out... From Wen Jifei's perspective, he was a little dazed. *Clatter.* The dead iron straight sword dropped to the ground. Plague Chicken cradled his right arm with his left hand and slowly turned around. "Qingzi," he whispered. "Yeah?" Han Qingyu sprang to his feet. "I... might have... fractured a bone."