Not exactly a large temporary armory, the one-ton Thundercloud Storm resting in the hands of a Mobile Suit. Qin Fen smiled; he had somewhat grasped the rules of the small team competition. This was a special kind of contest designed to test the coordination between the rookie squads from various continents against those from other regions, directly reflecting which continent possessed the best rookie squad.

Simultaneously, it offered a glimpse into the simple yet effective tactical coordination the different continents had devised in the preceding days. However, there was a crucial caveat: rookies were forbidden from piloting Mobile Suits in combat. The appearance of those massive, thick-plated machines would entirely nullify the original intent of the competition.

Of course, the armed fighter jet parked outside the armory was merely for show, not actually intended for the rookies to pilot.

"Wow! What are the American rookies doing?"

The commentator stared at one half of the projection screen, startled to see Yang Lie, the Little Dragon King, using tools to dismantle the M134 Vulcan cannon from the armed fighter jet.

Both M134 Vulcan cannons were eventually taken down by the joint efforts of Little Dragon King Yang Lie and Brooks of Kaixia.

These two weapons, theoretically capable of firing six thousand rounds per minute to create a super firewall, were now in their hands.

Tens of thousands of spectators gasped in unison. It appeared the American rookies hadn't just prepared for the martial arts segment; they were remarkably outstanding in the weaponry segment too! The powerful barrage these two M134 Vulcans could generate almost locked down the victory.

"Heavens! The rookie squad from [Continent Name]! The perennial champions of the Rookie Competition are finally showing their true power! Let's pray for the East Asian rookies!"

"Exactly! A firing rate of six thousand rounds per minute! That’s one hundred rounds every single second!"

The beautiful cheerleading squad for the American rookies erupted in shrill, excited screams amidst the tens of thousands of onlookers. The explosion they had waited for was finally here.

In the crowd, a group of military enthusiasts stared silently at the screen. The combat method employed by these American rookies could almost be termed shameless cheating! To actually use the weapons from an armed fighter jet! The previously intense and varied combat exchanges were about to be completely destroyed by these two M134 Vulcans, turning the match into a tedious spectacle.

"Thundercloud Storm?"

Qin Fen stood beneath the massive Mobile Suit, looking up at the gigantic metal beast. A faint smile played on his lips. The information provided by the magnetic card was indeed accurate. The Thundercloud Storm, worthy of being called a Super Storm, had actually appeared in the temporary armory for the squad confrontation.

"Oh? What are the East Asian rookies planning? Is Qin Fen going to pilot the Mobile Suit?"

"Heh, that’s explicitly forbidden by the competition rules. If he really intends to use something from the Mobile Suit, he might as well use the Thundercloud Storm!"

"Haha, you jest well. Rumor has it the Thundercloud Storm weighs a full ton. Even if Qin Fen has earned the nickname 'Monster' around the camps, he’s not a real monster. There’s no way he can lift that Earth-shaking Thundercloud..."

A massive exclamation of shock abruptly cut off the commentator's teasing. Even the commentator’s eyes widened in stunned silence as he watched Qin Fen on the screen.

What was this young rookie from East Asia doing? Was he really going to use the one-ton Thundercloud Storm? If so, was he even human?

The tens of thousands of spectators stared blankly at the screen. Qin Fen was accepting tool after tool from Xue Tian, dismantling the Thundercloud Storm held in the Mobile Suit’s hand. His movements were so incredibly practiced, they recalled the most skilled assembly technicians in a Mobile Suit factory.

Click...

Qin Fen, standing on the Mobile Suit’s arm, finally detached the gigantic Thundercloud Storm. He hopped down from the mechanical limb, carrying the ton-heavy weapon, and began expertly manipulating the Thundercloud Storm with both hands, as if handling the simplest semi-automatic rifle.

After a quick check of its operation, Qin Fen swung the Thundercloud Storm left and right a few times with one hand to test the weapon's vibration characteristics.

The image was transmitted to the vast stadium above, which plunged into absolute silence.

The American rookies and their supporters, who had been excitedly celebrating the acquisition of the two M134 Vulcans, now had faces the color of swamp mud.

People couldn't help but wonder if the Thundercloud Storm was merely a mock-up made of Styrofoam painted with a bright gloss, given how easily Qin Fen swung the one-ton weapon, as if it were a matchstick.

The corners of the military enthusiasts' eyes twitched slightly. They retracted the looks of disdain they had previously cast toward the American camp and also took back their judgment condemning the use of the Vulcan cannons for ruining the art of combat. They now directed looks of profound sympathy toward the American rookies.

They felt genuine sympathy. The most miserable fate in this world isn't defeat! It’s when you cheat to achieve the best result, tasting the dawn of victory, only to hear that your opponent has unilaterally changed the test questions—and the proctors deem it perfectly acceptable without any penalty.

The three commentators exchanged bewildered glances, their faces etched only with wry smiles. This guy Qin Fen truly lived up to his nickname: 'Monster,' a complete and utter monster!

The Eight-Star Dragon-Elephant Prajñā Power had forged an even more formidable physique in Qin Fen. Even without actively using his True Qi, the sheer physical strength he possessed was terrifyingly immense.

The European and African rookie teams, who also had to participate in the squad confrontation, saw their expressions turn equally grim. Only the faces of the West Asian rookies remained relatively unchanged; they had already heard the rumors, and while seeing it firsthand today was surprising, it didn't render them as utterly dumbfounded as the rookies from other continents.

The match hadn't even begun, but new footage from the East Asian rookies’ projection screen caused astonishment. People realized that, perhaps due to Qin Fen, the East Asian rookies had no interest in team coordination drills.

Xue Tian moved the weapons from the table onto the ground, then lay down on the table, kicking his legs up, looking ready to sleep.

Xing Wuyi sat cross-legged on another table, clearly already entering the meditation state of ancient martial arts to cultivate his True Qi.

Only Lin Ling, as usual, was quickly adjusting a counter-sniper rig before climbing onto the roof of the armory.

It was obvious this female soldier from East Asia had no intention of leaving the vicinity of the armory either.

On the other side of the screen, the American rookies wore expressions of high morale, their eyes shining with a quality called 'confidence.'

Wielding M134 Vulcans that could create a rain of bullets, the American rookies seemed to already see the look of shock and terror in the eyes of the East Asian rookies when they finally clashed.

The American rookies in the audience seats had not a trace of confidence for their comrades. Instead, some simply covered their eyes with their hands, unable to bear watching the match any longer.

This was an unfair fight! The power disparity was immense: one side possessed modernized super-equipment, while the other side’s weaponry seemed akin to sticks and clubs held by Stone Age humans.

The M134 Vulcan fired 6,000 rounds per minute, but what about the Thundercloud Storm? It could launch sixty thousand ultra-thin metal shards in a single second! Its firing rate was six hundred times that of the M134! Furthermore, its effective range and impact area far surpassed the M134 by a huge margin.

Even the European and African rookies, who disliked seeing the Americans win, felt a shared sorrow when they saw Qin Fen walk out of the armory alone, their gazes filled with commiseration for the Americans.

"Oh, I can't bear to watch anymore."

"Me neither. Look at Qin Fen's speed—does that look like he's carrying a weapon weighing a ton?"

"Alas... Poor American rookie team, why did they have to run into 'Monster' Qin Fen?"

The bell signaling the start of the match finally rang. For the American rookies watching from the sidelines, it wasn't the bell of battle, but the tolling of death.

Although the weapons used in the match couldn't actually kill anyone, defeat—especially the total annihilation of an elite squad by a single powerhouse—was something the onlookers could not readily accept.

As the match bell sounded, Brooks and Yang Lie charged to the front of their formation, each carrying an M134 Vulcan. With weapons capable of 6,000 rounds per minute, they were confident they could shock Qin Fen, the person who always ruined the normal flow of competition, and let him experience the frustration of facing an opponent who completely disregarded the rules.

In the massive VIP box, General Will, who had worn a faint smile before the match began, now had a face as pale as dry earth.

He closed his eyes while holding his wine glass. He had thought his rookies were already bending the rules of normal competition, but Qin Fen had shattered them completely in an instant.

A confrontation match was to be conducted in three phases: first, one side defends the flag while the other attacks; the second phase reversed roles; the final phase involved an all-out offensive from both sides.

In the first battle, the East Asian rookies were supposed to be on the defensive, yet Qin Fen had no intention of defending. The sooner the match ended, the more time he would have to practice projecting his True Qi externally.

Brooks and Yang Lie moved cautiously at the very front of their formation.

Suddenly! Both men froze simultaneously, their eyes wide with shock as they stared ahead. The American rookies following behind them hadn't registered what happened before they felt their bodies struck by countless objects.

The next instant, the American rookies stared blankly at their blood-red uniforms. What on earth had happened?

Curiously, the American rookies grabbed the binoculars at their chests, trying to discern the nature of the attack. The moment they looked through the lenses, the entire American squad fell into a deathly silence.

Through the binoculars, they could see Qin Fen holding the one-ton Thundercloud Storm in his hand, making a casual 'BYE BYE' gesture.

The Thundercloud Storm? The American rookies' minds short-circuited. What in the world was this? Monster Qin Fen was lifting a one-ton Thundercloud Storm with one hand? What was the point of fighting this battle?

In terms of sheer power, if the Thundercloud Storm was an adult, the M134 was a kindergarten child.

Regarding targeting systems? The electronic detection equipment built into the Thundercloud Storm was even superior to the optical equipment on many sniper rigs, let alone the M134.

This comparison wasn't a confrontation; it was outright abuse. There was no way to form any semblance of a competitive match.

Defeated? The binoculars slipped from the American rookies' hands and hung against their chests, their grim faces shrouded in dark clouds. Lost! The East Asian rookies had deployed only one person and used only one weapon to make it unequivocally clear to everyone that there was no need to play the remaining two rounds.

To continue would only be inviting self-humiliation for the sake of masochism!

Yang Lie looked at Qin Fen through his binoculars with a wry, helpless expression. He had thought bringing two M134s was cheating, but how could he forget that Qin Fen himself was the most advanced, giant cheat device?

Continue the fight? Brooks shook his head. Although they had lost this bout, it hadn't yet affected their Warrior Heart cultivated in the Martial Arts Competition. If they endured another two rounds of abuse, even the firmness of their Warrior Heart would waver. By then, forget fighting—just seeing Qin Fen would give them psychological trauma.

The American rookies lifted the communicators near their mouths, adjusted to the referee channel, and exchanged helpless glances. "We surrender. There's no need to continue the rest of the matches. The East Asian rookies have won."

The tens of thousands of spectators in the stands heard the helpless words of the American rookies, but no cheers erupted for the victor. They simply stared blankly at Qin Fen on the screen. This person truly had to break convention in every single competition.

The crowd quickly shifted their attention to the European, African, and West Asian rookies who hadn't yet faced the East Asians in the squad confrontation, hoping to see if they possessed any counter-strategy.

Unfortunately, the audience saw no glimmer of hope in the eyes of those rookies.

The Thundercloud Storm? This thing was a complete BUG in the squad confrontation event! With that weapon in Qin Fen's hands, it was no different from having already seized the championship trophy.

"Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen... Good news!"

The commentator shouted excitedly: "Considering the Rookie Competition serves as a platform for mutual exchange, to fully embody the principle of exchange, the East Asian rookie squad's victory in this match is confirmed. However, starting from the next match, weapons that destroy fairness, such as the Thundercloud Storm and the M134, will no longer be stocked in the armory."

The now-resigned eyes of the rookies from the three continents suddenly reignited with a new ray of hope. Without the Thundercloud Storm, the East Asian rookies didn't seem quite so terrifying anymore!

The American rookies looked mournfully toward the referee’s platform. They had served as the final stepping stone for Qin Fen’s rampage; their luck was truly abysmal.

Qin Fen paused slightly upon hearing the decision transmitted through his headset, a carefree smile touching his lips. He turned toward the direction of the East Asian rookie armory and murmured softly, "This is fine too. This way, next time I can hide in the armory to rest and cultivate, letting Xue Tian handle the fighting."