Those with Source

So, he had probably flipped faces again. From the perspective of mobilizing source energy, you could try imagining it like this: a surging wave of immense power is just about to crash down... the very next second, it suddenly turns into a toddler peeing... or even a broken faucet that won't shut tight, slowly dripping... and then, out of nowhere, another huge wave. That was a Dice. Standing there, Han Qingyu tried very hard not to laugh out loud, staring at Plague Chicken with immense difficulty. He felt he had grown a bit obsessed. Whenever the blue light of the three-dimensional apparatus on Wen Jifei lit up, it felt as if a die had been cast into the air, flipping faces over and over again, endlessly tumbling. "Don't just stand there daydreaming. Seriously, I clearly heard a crack inside my forearm just now. Did you hear it?" Wen Jifei kept whispering. His right arm didn't look broken from the outside; perhaps, just as he said, there was a hairline fracture inside. Han Qingyu shook his head. "Didn't hear it." "That's something, at least." With a look of chagrin, Wen Jifei said, "If I'd known, I would've sheathed my sword in style and walked away right after that first slash. With my reputation secured... debates over who's stronger between you and me would've been an eternal topic in the Ninth Army." "..." Han Qingyu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Doesn't it hurt?" "Not bad. It's probably numb." Wen Jifei shook his head and rambled on. "Now I finally understand why the masters in wuxia novels always shock the world in a single battle and then retire from the pugilistic world." Seeing him like this, Han Qingyu felt slightly relieved, though he couldn't be bothered to entertain his nonsense. He asked bluntly, "So what now? Do I take you to the infirmary, or should I call over a few female equipment officers to support you?" As he spoke, Han Qingyu nodded toward the group of female equipment officers standing nearby—members of the "Plague Chicken Dynasty of the Equipment Grounds." Wen Jifei glanced over, paused, and then said urgently: "Quick, Qingzi, ask me what happened... Make it loud, and preferably inject a bit of disbelief into your tone." Han Qingyu: "..." "Hurry up!" "Ahem." Han Qingyu psyched himself up and switched to a normal speaking volume. "Plague Chicken, what... what happened to you? How did this happen?!" "It's fine... probably just a bit of a hairline fracture." To Han Qingyu's surprise, Wen Jifei's first sentence was an honest admission of his condition... probably because there would be no hiding it anyway, as his arm might have to be put in a sling. A wave of quiet chuckles rippled out—unclear whether it was sympathy, ridicule, or simply people being unable to hold it in. Mingled with the chuckles were a few gasped cries from the female equipment officers. Wen Jifei gave a wry smile and added, "Couldn't help it. Just now... I forcibly reversed my source energy surge." When he said that, the female equipment officers didn't react much since they didn't really understand such things. However, everyone else present—including the observing recruits and Han Qingyu—was instantly stunned. Han Qingyu was shocked by how absurd he could be. The others were shocked by how terrifyingly formidable he must be. Everyone knew that source energy moved within the body in surges: striking forward with the crest, gathering strength on the ebb. The proficiency and speed of controlling these surges formed the very foundation of combat with the three-dimensional apparatus... Wen Jifei's words were essentially claiming that he had just forced a crashing wave to turn back. Even a ten-year veteran would probably cough up blood attempting that kind of forced reverse control, wouldn't they? People recalled how S-19 had effortlessly dodged their attacks during training earlier without breaking a sweat, and how even when struck occasionally after adjustments, the blows seemed totally inconsequential... Then they remembered the sight of it being sent flying by Wen Jifei's single slash... and started to believe him. In Azure's eighty-year history, barely a dozen or so Dices had ever emerged, and the Coalition had never made that public. How could they have known such a bizarre phenomenon existed? Amid the stunned, silent awe, Wen Jifei turned back to look at S-19. "Only after I unleashed that strike did I realize it was too heavy. I was afraid I'd dismantle it." "..." Han Qingyu was so thoroughly embarrassed he didn't even want to acknowledge him. Coincidentally, the robot—that S-19—turned its head back toward Wen Jifei with an almost human touch. If it were capable of thought, it might well be wondering: *Is that really so?* Because the difference between that first strike and the second had truly been night and day. "All right, go ahead and train. I'll rest on the side for a bit." Wen Jifei brushed it off casually, strolled to the side, and flashed an easy smile at the female equipment officers. *Well, he's the one in pain anyway...* Thinking this, Han Qingyu picked the sword up from the ground, holding it in his left hand while drawing the other sword from behind his back with his right. Dual blades in hand, he said to the young female administrator, "Hey, um, Comrade Administrator... should we officially start timing now?" The girl lifted her wrist to check her watch, walked over, and smiled slyly. "I've been timing for a while already. Isn't he your friend? Either way, I started the clock with him. And my name isn't 'um,' it's Wan Xiujing." "..." Han Qingyu couldn't care less what her name was; all he cared about was time. "Hey, do you have a lot of source energy blocks? That head instructor just said you have a ton." For some reason, the annoying girl suddenly altered her tone and expression. "Wanna be friends?" She was still just a kid after all; she made her intentions far too obvious. Besides, making friends was an awfully financially ruinous endeavor—Han Qingyu had seen a prime example not long ago, a fellow named Tu Zi. "Better not. I only make friends with people of source." Seeing the girl's obsession with source energy blocks, Han Qingyu knew right away that she was not a person of source, and decisively turned her down. Then he added, "Tell your robot to get ready." S-19 turned around. *Buzz.* Dual blades in hand, Han Qingyu activated the three-dimensional apparatus on his body. As the blue light flared, he shot forward like an arrow. He had been holding back all afternoon. He was burning through a source energy block right now. He was paying for this. It was very expensive, and he only had fifteen minutes a day. All of these were important, but the most important thing was: his opponent was a robot. Before this, even during the simulated combat spar against Lao Jian, Han Qingyu hadn't dared to mobilize both the apparatus and the source energy within his body simultaneously. In other words, aside from that leaping strike against the Great Spike with Squad 1123, he had never once gone all out during ordinary training. Would the robot notice? Definitely not. It didn't have a gauge, and even if it could tell, it was just a pile of scrap iron that couldn't speak. *Boom... clatter!* Han Qingyu's twin blades crashed down. The crowd fell silent: "..." "Did you see that? The robot blocked!" The awe stemmed from the fact that all afternoon, S-19 had virtually never been forced into such a flustered, hasty block. "How could it not? Qingzi has completely gone mad." "Three consecutive hits... four hits, five..." Some people present had witnessed Han Qingyu's leaping slash against the Great Spike in Area 1123, but most had not. Thus, his explosive display—a brutal beating delivered to the S-19 that had "silently mocked" the recruits all afternoon—drew many onlookers to their feet without them even realizing it. "So satisfying!" In the middle of the field, Han Qingyu's onslaught against S-19 was relentless. Cheers rang out one after another. Until—*bang!* A sudden, earth-shaking shockwave erupted. Han Qingyu was abruptly knocked flying backward. Even after stabbing both blades into the ground to brake, he was forced back more than a dozen meters before he could barely steady himself and stand back up. His face contorted in pain. It felt as if a giant sledgehammer had struck him squarely in the chest; the massive impact nearly made him vomit blood. Vomiting blood wasn't the end of the world, but as a newcomer, it hardly seemed right to steal Captain Lao's title. So he forced it down with all his might. Meanwhile, ten meters across from him, S-19 stood motionless, one iron arm extended forward with its fist clenched. It had just thrown a punch—an unadorned, simple punch, except it had been exceedingly sudden, lightning-fast, and brutally heavy. "Hey, since when can it hit back?" "Yeah, didn't they say it was an offensive drill?" "So strong..." "..." Amid the wave of awe and skepticism. Catching his breath, Han Qingyu turned toward Wan Xiujing and looked at her. "Did you just give it the command to strike back?" "... Huh?" Wan Xiujing looked up to meet Han Qingyu's gaze. Panic flashed across her eyes at first; she seemed frozen, not knowing how to explain. The next second, Han Qingyu's furrowed brows relaxed, and a brilliant smile broke across his face. "This is good. I forgot just now that it could actually fight back... Let's keep it this way. Don't change the command. Let it strike back—full combat sparring." Wan Xiujing blinked twice. "Are you sure?" "Positive." Han Qingyu nodded with absolute confidence. He adjusted his stance and lunged forward again. Two minutes later, Wen Jifei left first, heading to the infirmary accompanied by several female equipment officers. Shortly after, He Tangtang, Liu Shiheng, and the other roommates also stood and took their leave, murmuring among themselves as they walked: "I really can't watch this anymore." "Yeah, half his life has been beaten out of him." The recruits trickled away one after another, sighing. "Too brutal." "Yeah, watching that completely crushed whatever confidence I had left." "Still, if robots are so powerful, why not just send them to the front lines? Why do we have to go risk our lives?" "Who knows? There are probably only one or two of them. Too poor—can't afford to mass-produce them." "True. If there are too few to form a formation, running into a Great Spike would just mean getting scrapped." The crowd had mostly dispersed. The short fifteen minutes dragged on endlessly because Han Qingyu was being subjected to a continuous, brutal thrashing. Finally, Wan Xiujing, sitting by the sidelines, stood up and raised her hand. "Time's up." S-19 stopped moving. Han Qingyu stood frozen for two seconds, dropped heavily onto his rear, and then collapsed flat on his back. He panted raggedly, as if on the brink of death. "A-Are you all right? Training again tomorrow?" Seeming afraid of losing a client, the girl leaned forward and looked down at Han Qingyu's face as he lay on the ground, asking with apparent concern. "*Hoo...*" Han Qingyu gasped with difficulty, nodding weakly. "Still training." "Still combat sparring?" "... Still." "Mhm, then be sure to remember to bring source energy blocks." Without offering even the slightest hand to help him up, the girl turned straight around the moment she finished speaking. "Time to go~" Her light, cheerful voice floated back. Han Qingyu forced a bitter smile. After struggling for a while, he finally managed to sit up. Dozens of meters away, two silhouettes receded under the setting sun. The robot, S-19, marched steadily ahead. Wan Xiujing tagged along beside it like a little follower, skipping from its left side to its right and back again. They arrived beneath a tree. S-19 suddenly paused, turned its head to look at a branch, and extended its hand. A black-and-white cat with silver shading leapt down from the branch and landed in its hands. "Mangmang Mangmang, did you sleep all afternoon?" Wan Xiujing stroked the cat and asked. "Meow." It appeared the cat's name was Mangmang Mangmang. Mangmang Mangmang didn't linger in S-19's hands for long before leaping down on its own. And just like that—a young girl, a robot that wasn't particularly tall, and a cat walked side by side, receding farther into the lingering glow of the setting sun. *** Dinnertime, cafeteria. "Tangtang," Han Qingyu called out suddenly, staring straight at He Tangtang seated across from him. A shiver ran down He Tangtang's spine. "What?! What do you want?!" He was a burly, rough-hewn man, yet cursed with a name that sounded sickeningly sweet when spoken aloud. Normally, no one—including Han Qingyu—ever called him by his full given name; if they called him anything, it was "Big He," "Big Stunner," "Big Tang," or the like. "Well... once you're full, could you spoon-feed me a few bites while you're at it?" Han Qingyu asked. Having said that, he meant to explain that he couldn't move his arms or fingers at all. Yet before he could explain, He Tangtang had already snatched up his meal basin and bolted. Along with him, the other roommates from their dorm scattered and fled as well. "..." Han Qingyu wanted to cry but had no tears. Left with no choice, he buried his face in his bowl and began gnawing directly from it.