It was two in the afternoon, precisely when the artificial sun's rays reached their zenith, intended to subject the mercenaries to a more rigorous environment. The Warrior City generally maintained high temperatures, averaging thirty-five degrees Celsius daily, hovering around forty degrees at noon.

Under such heat, ordinary people would be drenched in sweat after only a short exposure, relying solely on indoor air conditioning to temporarily alleviate the scorching oppression.

As Yusuf explained, Worrell consumed a massive amount of energy annually just to maintain this temperature within the city's central cooling system.

Originally, in a dimly lit place like the asteroid belt, space stations found it difficult to achieve self-sufficiency. The city's energy was partially supplied by solar power, with the remainder requiring the purchase of energy crystals.

For a space city to be self-sufficient, it needed to be located within Martian orbit, where sunlight was plentiful.

If the asteroid belt were not rich in minerals, allowing for a surplus even after accounting for energy crystal consumption, absolutely no space city would have established a presence here.

The site for the military exercise was not within the barracks, but in a dedicated training ground within the city designed for various military simulations.

The training ground spanned thirty square kilometers, consuming a full fifth of Worrell's land area, illustrating just how crucial its role was in the station.

Yang Ying and Yusuf were seated in the top-tier private box of the stands. This area boasted the most luxurious facilities: twenty holographic screens could switch views across the exercise ground, fed by signals from one hundred mobile cameras scattered throughout the area, covering virtually every corner of the grounds.

In the center of the box was a large, layered terrain sandbox, allowing easy visualization of the formations and combat progression of the two participating factions.

The stands were packed, hosting close to fifty thousand people—a dense, teeming mass, like ants.

“This is quite a venue,” Yang Ying remarked, settling into a high-end, pure black leather swivel chair.

Brian and Katerina found seats next to Yang Ying, while the two Ghost Agents stood silently behind them.

“This training ground is Worrell’s pride. There aren’t more than five facilities in the entire solar system superior to this one,” Yusuf gestured with an open palm, seated at the opposite end of the room.

“Initially, hearing Mr. Yusuf, I thought this military exercise was arranged specifically for me. But seeing the crowd here, I suspect this was scheduled long ago, wasn't it?” Yang Ying looked toward Yusuf.

“Indeed, but this private box was reserved solely for your presence, Your Excellency. Without accompanying you, even I wouldn't qualify to be here,” Yusuf clarified.

Yang Ying looked out over the field. He observed rows of buildings flanking the perimeter of the exercise ground—some tall, some short—with streets intersecting haphazardly, resembling a maze or a net. In the center was a large park featuring an irregularly shaped small lake, about a kilometer wide at its broadest point. A solitary pavilion rested quietly in the heart of the lake.

“In the pavilion at the center of the lake, there is a flag. The two participating forces must start from their respective bases at opposite ends of the field, seize the flag in the lake's center, then conquer the enemy base, and finally plant the flag atop the highest point of the enemy base to claim victory,” Yusuf explained.

“Is this the scenario for every exercise here?” Yang Ying inquired.

“Certainly not,” Yusuf chuckled. “This training ground has numerous functions; terrain modification is one of them. Although costly, it's entirely feasible. We can transform the area into any known topography within twenty-four hours—be it urban, desert, grassland, mountains, or even icy peaks—it’s all possible.”

“I see,” Yang Ying nodded slightly.

Yusuf continued, “Commander Yang Ying arrives at the perfect moment. Today is a special occasion; one side in the exercise is not from the mercenary corps, but from the military.”

“Oh? I’d be keen to hear more,” Yang Ying responded.

Yusuf adopted a casual tone. “The front line of the war between Earth and the Ancient Legion has just stabilized in Saturn’s orbit. The Earth military is recruiting again to launch a counter-offensive, intending to rebuild the two fleets lost along the Dual Star defense line. A new special forces unit has just completed training, and before they officially deploy, the high command wanted an opponent to test them, so they reached out to us.”

“And the Mercenary Alliance agreed to fight them, preparing such a grand venue for it?” Yang Ying asked offhandedly.

“Of course, we didn't agree lightly. The military paid a considerable bounty, wishing to hire a unit composed of S-class mercenaries for this operation,” Yusuf scoffed. “Do they think S-class mercenaries are found on every street corner? Even in Worrell, there are no more than five hundred S-class mercenaries, and they all have their own engagements. Rounding them all up to fight the special forces—are they out of their minds?”

Yang Ying listened silently, waiting for Yusuf to finish.

Yusuf proceeded, “So, after discussions with the military, we decided to field an operation centered around B-rank mercenaries—that is, the unit housed in Barracks A, where you are currently staying—along with mercenaries holding the Impact-grade certification. These individuals are a notch above ordinary S-class mercenaries and are eager to prove themselves in combat against the military’s special forces.”

“I suspect the military’s special forces feel the same way,” Yang Ying guessed.

Yusuf nodded. “That’s right. The mercenaries have always believed S-class mercenaries surpass the military's most elite special forces, and the military has never conceded the point. The special forces unit arriving today, although not yet fully commissioned, is of an extremely high caliber—part of the Ace Special Forces cadre, just one final trial away. Matching a unit on the verge of becoming Ace Special Forces against a unit striving for S-class mercenary status—the military also wants to prove something this time.”

Yang Ying looked at the excited scene below in the stands. “It seems this is a highly scrutinized confrontation, placing significant pressure on both sides.”

“The outcome of this battle has certainly drawn attention from many—both the military and the Mercenary Alliance. Even the largest betting syndicates in the solar system have set up wagers on the result of this exercise. I wonder, Commander Yang Ying, if you might be interested in placing a bet?” Yusuf proposed.

“Mr. Yusuf, did you participate in the wagering?” Yang Ying countered.

“I placed ten million on the mercenaries. As a committee member of the Alliance, I naturally have more faith in our own people. Ha,” Yusuf thumped his chest with confidence.

At that moment, a loud voice boomed across the venue: “The exercise begins in five minutes. The exercise begins in five minutes! All participating factions, please take your positions!”

Yang Ying shifted his gaze to the twenty holographic screens. They now displayed the preparation status of both sides within their respective bases.

As Yang Ying watched, his eyes suddenly narrowed. In the screen showing the special forces base, two familiar figures appeared.

“How can it be them? Qingfeng and Mingyue from the Taiji Temple? Why have they joined the military?” Yang Ying slowly stood up. He retained a deep impression of the two young Taoist acolytes he had met once before.

Yang Ying was surprised. The Taiji Temple was secluded deep in the mountains, cut off from the outside world, and had never been associated with the military. Seeing Qingfeng and Mingyue again in a military setting was something he had never anticipated.

“Commander Yang Ying, did you spot acquaintances, Your Excellency?” Yusuf, accustomed to dealing with people for years, had honed a pair of sharp eyes; he could tell from Yang Ying’s expression that something significant had happened.

“Indeed, two acquaintances,” Yang Ying smiled. “It seems Mr. Yusuf has placed his bet on the wrong side. This battle will conclude with a victory for the military’s special forces.”

He had some understanding of the mercenaries in the barracks; although disciplined and skilled with various strengths, none possessed innate spiritual energy, putting them at a fundamental disadvantage against Awakened individuals.

“Are you that certain?” Yusuf asked, slightly displeased. He couldn't fathom why seeing two acquaintances led Yang Ying to instantly declare the mercenaries doomed.

“Yes, I am very certain,” Yang Ying affirmed, glancing at the figures of Qingfeng and Mingyue on the screen. Having made up his mind, he asked, “Mr. Yusuf, where is the location for placing bets?”

“In the temporary tent on the east side, directly below the stands.”

Yusuf moved to the window ledge and pointed to a white tent, the size of a villa, beneath the stands. The tent had one exit and one entrance.

The entrance was currently choked with a surging crowd.

“Hmm, the number of people interested in this wager exceeds my expectation,” Yusuf frowned, adding, “If you intend to bet, Commander, you must hurry. The exercise starts in three minutes, after which betting will close.”

Hearing this, Yang Ying immediately pulled a platinum-colored card from his pocket and handed it back to one of the Ghost Agents. “Go place a bet of two billion on the special forces for me. Complete it within three minutes.”

“Yes, Officer!” The Ghost Agent took the platinum card and instantly left the private room, sprinting away.

“Two billion? Are you trying to burn money?” Yusuf looked down again. Seeing hundreds of people jammed at the tent entrance, pushing against each other with no gaps, he turned back to Yang Ying. “It won’t be easy to squeeze in there. Commander Yang Ying shouldn't hold out too much hope. Furthermore, regarding your assertion that the mercenaries will lose, I truly cannot agree. The strength of the S-class mercenaries is trustworthy; I know them very well.”

“But you don’t know this group of special forces, do you?” Yang Ying asked with a smile.

Yang Ying also looked down, spotting the Ghost Agent reaching the ground level and pushing into the crowd. Like a swift fish, he parted the flow of people; where there were no gaps ahead, he forced one open, sweeping past hundreds in ten seconds.

“Whoa! A master!” Yusuf’s eyes widened instantly. In his judgment, even S-class mercenaries he had observed didn't possess the skills the Ghost Agent was displaying—he had the capability of an S-class mercenary.