The fact that the 【Electric Light Warlord】 had its weapon stripped away in close combat was nothing less than a resounding public slap in the face.
The glorious monument that the 【Freedom】 team had erected in the rookie competitions over the years had begun to show cracks following the last exchange.
The roar from the six different models of Mobile Suits sounded like the massive war drums of an ancient battlefield, vibrating the hearts of every spectator.
Six against one.
The rookies from Europe, Asia, and Africa all understood: the American rookies no longer possessed the confidence to win through sheer individual prowess. They had already lost; even if they managed to overwhelm the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 with superior numbers, their kingly spirit was broken.
Qin Fen, controlling the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】, reclaimed the extra-long multi-purpose Mobile Suit cannon with one hand, while the glowing Electromagnetic Bifurcation Blade hung loosely in the other, as he slowly settled into a martial stance.
The six American rookies froze simultaneously. What did this mean? A long-range cannon in one hand, a close-quarters weapon in the other? And adopting the stance of a martial artist?
The rookies from West Asia and Africa were equally bewildered. Mobile Suits were introduced to replace artillery cannons and tanks. Even engagements between Mobile Suits were typically resolved through mutual bombardment of heavy weapons or missile exchanges.
Two humanoid metal giants grappling like common thugs—this style of combat was utterly unsuitable for true warfare.
War is a world that values efficiency. Whichever side is more efficient has the greater chance of victory.
In the instant the six Mobile Suits paused, the cannon held by the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 erupted in a dazzling, blinding muzzle flash. A missile streaked forward, leaving a visible tunnel of airflow in its wake as it tore through the atmosphere.
Eisenhower’s heart lurched. The massive metallic wings on the back of the 【Winged War God】 he was piloting snapped open completely!
This perfect crystallization of the military’s pinnacle technology revealed its most formidable offensive capability among Mobile Suits.
As the feather-shaped metal wings unfolded, every single metal vane concealed a missile! Dozens of projectiles erupted from the wings in the first instant.
Boom!
The missile fired by Qin Fen detonated suddenly in mid-air. A visible wall of fire engulfed the empty space between the two sides.
Fell for it! It’s a Heaven-Burning Nebula Bomb! Eisenhower felt an urge to vomit blood. This type of missile carried no lethal power against Mobile Suits, but it generated intense heat, accompanied by chaotic electromagnetic waves within that heat, making it highly effective at disrupting enemy missiles.
The dozen or so missiles launched earlier, relying on hurried self-preservation, had not employed the special techniques required for strong satellite lock-on maneuvers.
The moment the dozen missiles pierced the wall of fire, they exploded with a thunderous roar that shook the ground and shot skyward!
Where is he? Where is he? Eisenhower immediately activated all search radars, using the experience and instinct of a Mobile Suit pilot to search everywhere Qin Fen might appear.
The other five American rookies rapidly activated their own search radars, frantically scanning for the potential enemy.
In the sky? No! On the ground? Also no!
The wall of fire!
The 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 emerged from the inferno to the stunned silence of the onlookers! Its outermost layer of armor was already beginning to warp under the fiery baptism!
The Heaven-Burning Nebula Bomb’s flames were far from ordinary heat! Even the heavily armored 【Electric Light Warlord, if it had charged through, could have been completely incinerated into a heap of scrap metal.
How is this possible? Eisenhower’s jaw dropped. Even if the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】’s power output was overclocked by three hundred percent, it shouldn't be able to breach that wall of fire.
Could it be… him… A single, astonished calculation flashed across the minds of all six Mobile Suit pilots: Four hundred percent! The 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】’s officially published data only stated three hundred and twenty-six percent!
In that instant of shock, the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 had already plunged into the midst of the six Mobile Suits, the battered Electromagnetic Bifurcation Blade savagely stabbing into the throat joint of the 【Winged War God】!
Before the blue electrical sparks could fully discharge, the armor covering the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 suddenly shed away completely, revealing rows of strange components arranged like miniature pyramids, emitting a low hum.
“Particle Storm!”
The American rookies and all the observing soldiers from other continents shouted out in unison.
The shock was too immense; it was impossible to contain the extreme astonishment unless they vented it through a scream.
The East Asian rookies felt their scalps tighten, a sudden chill running down their spines. He was actually going to use a Particle Storm? This was only a sparring session, not a true battlefield life-or-death struggle!
The military had incorporated a near-mutual destruction tactic into the design of every Mobile Suit.
The Particle Storm was the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow’s ultimate, self-sacrificial move! Theoretically, the design ensured the Mobile Suit would not self-destruct upon deployment, but in reality, the first lesson every pilot learned upon mastering the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow} was: never use the Particle Storm.
Because the critical threshold for the Particle Storm required absolute precision; even the slightest deviation meant the Mobile Suit’s power core would undergo a violent explosion during the maneuver.
The Particle Storm, true to its name, unleashed a genuine tempest, one that even a heavily armored unit like the 【Silver Steel Soul】 could only face with death.
Eisenhower desperately wanted to charge in front of Qin Fen, grab him by the collar, and demand to know what deep, irreconcilable hatred existed between them that necessitated mutual annihilation? While they weren't from the same military district, they were comrades, after all!
The massive Particle Storm instantly swept over the seven Mobile Suits in the arena. The observing rookies could no longer see the brilliant machines; everyone waited for the sounds of explosions signaling the destruction of one suit after another.
One second, ten seconds… twenty seconds, thirty seconds…
The observing rookies’ jaws had dropped. A Particle Storm usually destroyed everything within its radius, including the deploying unit, in less than ten seconds.
Forty-five seconds, fifty-seven seconds…
The Particle Storm ceased. The six damaged Mobile Suits stood with their arms crossed in front of them, maintaining a defensive posture. The 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】, stripped of its outer armor, stood like a beautiful woman who had just emerged from a bath—motionless.
No self-destruction, and the enemy wasn't blown up either? This…? How was this possible? The European rookies stared, their eyes wide. This level of control was far more difficult than the power core overclocking required in the previous match.
To prevent the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 from self-destructing was already the skill level of a junior Ace pilot! But fifty-seven seconds—that was not achievable by a junior Ace Mobile Suit pilot.
Fifty-seven seconds, not only without self-destructing, but also without destroying the enemy Mobile Suits—this was achievable only by the truly elite Ace Mobile Suit warriors of the current era!
The six Mobile Suits slowly lowered their damaged arms, unable to believe what they saw: their own suits, their comrades' suits, and the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 standing silently in their midst.
“You win…”
In the quiet battlefield, Eisenhower’s bitter voice slowly rang out.
The cockpit hatches of the Mobile Suits slowly popped open, and the American rookies tumbled out, their faces ghostly pale.
Their crisp American cadet uniforms looked as if they had just been pulled out of deep water.
The 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow’s cockpit opened, and Qin Fen stepped down, his complexion slightly ashen, his legs momentarily weak, nearly stumbling.
Particle Storm… Qin Fen raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat from his brow. His instructor was absolutely right; this maneuver was extremely difficult to execute, and having to deliberately factor in the survival of his opponents had drained nearly every ounce of his energy.
The rookies from Africa and West Asia stared dumbfounded at Qin Fen. This man could actually step out of his Mobile Suit unassisted? Didn't he know what exhaustion felt like?
“East Asian rookies, our American 【Freedom】 team bows to your superiority.” Eisenhower gave a thumbs-up, his eyes filled with admiration. “Your control is already that of a top-tier Ace Mobile Suit warrior today.”
Qin Fen offered a martial salute: “Pure luck.”
“Luck?” Eisenhower let out a wry chuckle. “If I had attempted what you just did, even if I had a thousand lives, I wouldn't have achieved such luck even once.”
Qin Fen, stepping lightly, walked toward the spectators representing Africa and West Asia. “I am spent today. If you gentlemen are still interested in sparring with me in Mobile Suits, please return tomorrow.”
Interested? The rookies from Africa and West Asia could only offer wry smiles. Who would be interested in sparring with a madman who dared to use a Particle Storm? Fortunately, the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 was now scrap metal after deploying that maneuver.
Next time they fought, the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】 would be unable to participate, naturally eliminating the jaw-dropping Particle Storm.
The rookies from Africa and West Asia exchanged a glance, seeing the same confusion in each other’s eyes. 【Crimson Phantom】, 【Sun Piercer Angel】—even if Qin Fen could pilot those, could he achieve the true Ace level of the 【Doomsday Butterfly Shadow】?
“Hah…”
Qin Fen approached the coffee shop and collapsed heavily into a sofa, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. His face was clearly etched with "exhaustion"; he possessed no spirit whatsoever.
“Old Qin, why are you so tired?” Xue Tian voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
“Alas…” Qin Fen leaned his head back against the sofa cushion with his eyes closed. “I just finished a Mobile Suit battle against the American Military District’s Mobile Suit unit.”
“Oh? Did someone in our East Asian Mobile Suit corps get sick?” Xue Tian’s gossip-loving soul ignited. “So, they temporarily loaned you out as a substitute?”
“No.” Qin Fen weakly shook his head twice. “It was me, fighting the entire American Military District rookie Mobile Suit unit, one against all.”
“Him alone? A solo fight?” Xue Tian’s voice suddenly rose several octaves. “Old Qin, you can actually pilot Mobile Suits? And the American rookies have held the championship in this category for years. You won?”
Except for Lin Ling, who remained expressionless, everyone present stared at Qin Fen in shock. Some even spat out the coffee they had just taken a sip of.
Mobile Suit operation was a relatively specialized field; it wasn't something one could jump into just because they knew a few fighting moves.
“Won… Huh? Thank you…”
Qin Fen abruptly opened his closed eyes, looking somewhat dazed at Song Jia, who was standing behind him.
Her delicate jade-like hand was gently massaging his temples.
Song Jia’s beautiful face flushed with a hint of crimson, and under everyone’s surprised gaze, she slowly lowered her head, avoiding their stares.
Xing Wuyi’s eyes were wide with astonishment. Song Jia! Song Wendong’s granddaughter, this heavenly favorite, was actually offering Qin Fen a massage?
“Brother Wuyi,” Lin Liqiang leaned close to Xing Wuyi’s ear and whispered, “This is a secret. If you don't want Old Qin to be poked to death by some divine beast tomorrow, you must keep it quiet.”
Xing Wuyi’s eyes cleared with sudden understanding, and he whispered back, “Young Master Lin seems quite familiar with Qin Fen.”
“Yes.” Lin Liqiang nodded vigorously. “He is my friend.”
Xing Wuyi’s pupils shot out another bolt of surprise. Lin Liqiang claiming someone as a friend? That was exceedingly rare, significantly less probable than winning the lottery.
“Everyone, our Air Combat team still has training scheduled.” Lin Jia slowly stood up and walked briskly toward the door, leaving a parting sentence hanging in the air: “I’ll head back to prepare first.”
“Oh, right,” Qin Fen spoke up again. “Where are Du Peng and Fei Yu?”
Xue Tian shrugged his shoulders. “Du Peng is lucky. His next opponent is Mark Mino from the Americas.”
“Mark Mino?” Qin Fen raised an eyebrow. “Zeus, one of the top three in the American Military District?”
“That’s right,” Xue Tian let out a sharp whistle. “He runs into Du Peng in the round of 32 to 16 bracket.”
The coffee shop fell silent. Qin Fen stared intently at the coffee cup before him. Du Peng’s strength had improved significantly recently, but he still hadn't fully absorbed the legacy left by Du Zhanpeng.
Both the Seven Star Immortal Thunder Art and the Formless Water Bird Art were peerless cultivation methods; mastering even one was a difficult task for many martial artists with decent aptitude.
Even someone with Du Zhanpeng’s innate talent could only focus on one method initially. Du Peng, whose aptitude was inferior, only managed to reach his current level with the Formless Water Bird Art largely due to the stimulus provided by Du Zhanpeng.
Now, asking him to combine two peerless cultivation methods…
Even though he carried the motivation and pressure of his brother’s legacy, he couldn’t accomplish it in a short time.
Xing Wuyi sighed softly. For a martial artist whose talent was not top-tier to bear the heavy burden of his brother’s glory and the continuation of his brother’s life—how exhausting that must be.
Qin Fen looked down at the Dragon Head Belt. If he still possessed one of Inzarota’s Life-and-Death Pills, he wouldn't hesitate to give it to Du Peng right now, would he?
“As for Elder Brother Chen,” Xue Tian spread both hands. “His luck is comparable to Old Du’s. If he wins one more match, barring surprises, his opponent will be Solomon, the 【Demon God】.”
“Your luck isn't bad either,” Xing Wuyi gently spun the cup on the table with his index finger. “If you keep winning, you’ll quickly meet Brooks the 【Heaven Breaker】. I heard he even received an invitation from the Sacred Martial Hall.”
“Is that so?” Xue Tian leaned back nonchalantly in the sofa, casually crossing his legs. “That thing isn't that big of a deal. I got one a few days ago too.”