Ziye’s victory was entirely expected. The only two people in the audience, Bran and Tang Wen, left quietly after watching, as if they had never been there.
Ziye withdrew from the battlefield, hugging Little Sprout and happily rubbing it against her face. “Little Sprout, we won!” Victory felt so good!
Little Sprout let out a lazy ‘squeak,’ obligingly rolling around on her face. A bit of its fluff accidentally tickled Ziye’s nose, making her unable to hold back a sudden sneeze.
The gust of air sent Little Sprout flying away. Ziye shamefully scooped it up, tucked it into her pocket, and desperately wanted to rush out and share the news of the victory with them.
But the thought of Tang Wen’s expressionless face dampened her spirits considerably. She walked to the door, then turned back, casually finding a spot to sit down instead.
The joy of victory gradually cooled. Ziye recalled the moments during the match—how exactly had she executed that 60° slanting reverse turn and kill?
She knew her own strength; even when she had previously met Bran’s requirements, she couldn't perform that move using only one leg. She paused, exited the audience area, entered the Free Practice Zone, and sat back down in the Commemorative Basic Model.
Her hands flew across the control interface. To her excitement, she flawlessly executed the entire sequence of movements again!
Wow! She actually did it again!
Ziye, clutching Little Sprout, sprinted out of the Virtual Pilot Training Base and rushed into the Research Institute. “Bran, I won!” Bran already knew the result and congratulated her sincerely.
“Not bad. Keep working hard.” Before the one-on-one PK, Bran had felt a slight worry, fearing the difficulty posed by a Rank 2000 opponent might be too much for her.
To see her win so cleanly was a genuine expression of congratulation. Ziye beamed, her eyes smiling.
“It’s because you taught me so well.” Bran waved her hand, about to reply, “I don’t deserve the credit,” when Tang Wen, seated at the office desk, suddenly turned his head. “Did you win the second match?” Ziye’s face stiffened.
“I haven’t fought the second match yet.” Tang Wen said coldly, “And you’re not going?” Startled by his expression, Ziye stuck her tongue out at Bran stealthily before returning to the Virtual Pilot Training Base. By then, her rank had climbed to 1999.
That’s just how the Free Combat Zone worked. As soon as you defeated a ranked pilot, your rank automatically moved ahead of theirs.
Ziye, previously a grey-collar worker at the training base, had created this account that morning specifically for the PK—it was brand new. Pilots who specialized in hunting down lower-ranked opponents with few matches played, hoping to boost their own standing, immediately sent requests upon seeing her.
She received a flood of applications before she could even locate the Rank 1900 opponent, with ranks spanning from 7000 down to 2500. Ziye ignored them, found 1900, and sent a PK request.
The Rank 1900 pilot was rather straightforward and delighted to see such a rookie account—someone practically begging for a thrashing. Since someone was delivering themselves up, he might as well oblige.
After winning once, Ziye felt a surge of confidence and a newfound familiarity with the mech, so she wasn’t afraid either, charging forward fiercely to strike. Since it was Free PK, she only deployed the methods she most wanted to test.
Even if she was knocked down, as long as she didn’t lose, there was always a chance to turn things around. Seeing how aggressive Ziye was, the Rank 1900 pilot immediately realized this wasn't someone he could finish in one blow.
Consequently, he deployed his signature technique: the Slow-Slice-and-Cut Method. He had calculated that this method had an 88% win rate because the vast majority of opponents lacked the patience to endure this Tai Chi-like stagnation, growing irritable until he found an opening.
Ziye was impatient at first, wanting a quick finish, but when she realized that wasn't feasible, she reluctantly shifted tactics, matching his slow attrition. The two mechs circled back and forth, resembling a game of Tai Chi.
Half an hour passed. Both mechs still maintained over 90% integrity.
An hour went by. Ziye rubbed her aching forehead with one hand.
In that single instant, she was struck by the Rank 1900 pilot. Unwilling to yield, she snapped out a swift kick in return.
Both mechs were now left with 80% integrity! After that point, it came down largely to spiritual power.
Coincidentally, Ziye had made extraordinary achievements in that domain. They battled intensely for a full four hours.
The Rank 1900 pilot’s spiritual power ultimately faltered, and he went down first. Ziye, without question, secured another victory.
She was frustrated by the process of the match but satisfied with the result. However, having fought for so long, she felt physically exhausted and mentally drained, requiring a few hours of quiet recovery.
So, she logged out of the Virtual Pilot Training Base. Bran and Tang Wen had not been present to watch this session.
The virtual light screen hung on the wall behind them. Whether they stretched, took a sip of water, or walked around, they saw the same continuous scene: Standoff!
A sudden flurry of attacks, two or three exchanges, then a return to the original positions, continuing the standoff! When the match-ending chime sounded, Bran glanced back, saw that Ziye was the one still standing, and murmured, “A spiritual power marathon.
It’s amazing she could win.” Tang Wen curved his lips into a smile. “Well, you should look at whose student she is!” Bran looked momentarily stunned, retorting, “You actually acknowledge her as your student?” Tang Wen lifted his face and countered, “When have I ever not acknowledged her?” Bran stared at him for a solid ten seconds before decisively turning to brew coffee.
Tang Wen was Tang Wen; he always had that stubbornly contrary nature, refusing to admit anything he didn’t want to admit, even if it meant being difficult. Regardless, his job as an assistant was to ease his employer’s burdens, even if that included mentoring a student.
Ziye returned to the Research Institute, ate lunch, slept for two hours, and woke up feeling refreshed. After washing her face, she dived back into the virtual base, searching for the next little lamb.
After every match, she would review the video replay herself, meticulously studying the opponent’s and her own movements, reactions, and controls, summarizing successful experiences and data. On her very first day, she achieved three consecutive wins!
Having successfully raised her rank to 1800 and completed her daily quota, Ziye casually went to the spectator stands to watch the super PKs of the top-hundred ranked pilots. The feeling of fighting her own matches was completely different from watching others.
It was as if she were transported back to that night, sitting with Xing Rui at the edge of the space station, watching the chaotic brawl between mechs and warships. There’s the saying: the bystander sees clearly, while the participant is lost in the action.
Watching others fight was always more rational. Ziye focused her gaze on the pilot ranked 097, mentally calculating how she would counter their movements, then observing what countermeasures 097 took.
Gradually, she could even keep pace with 097’s thought process. The more she watched, the more captivated she became.
She pinched Little Sprout. “Bean, let’s create a counter-move system.
We’ll feed it classic techniques, let the system generate reasonable reactions, or even input the opponent’s brilliant counter-reactions. If I review it often, my experience will surely skyrocket!” Ziye spoke with excitement.
Little Sprout looked at her with disdain. “Can’t you aim a little higher?” Ziye pouted at it.
It turned its head away, automatically walking into a wall. After bumping the wall, it resigned itself to building the system for her.
Ziye happily kissed its round little cheek. Little Sprout immediately broke into a wide grin and secretly snapped a picture of her kiss—Yes!
Another treasure for the collection!