Whether it was luck smiling upon Ziye, or her own extraordinary capability, she hadn't lost a single match since her initial three victories. Her ranking soared from 1899 to 1299.

Along the way, she encountered opponents who were sleazy, cold-blooded, and treacherous; some fought like assassins favoring sneak attacks, others like boxers aiming strictly for the face, and still others like con artists setting elaborate traps... Ziye, traversing this path, had transformed from a clumsy rookie into a battle-hardened veteran.

She was confident her close-quarters combat skills were more than adequate. Before the duel, all she needed to do was thoroughly investigate Mei Jing’s melee capabilities and formulate a corresponding counter-strategy; then, victory would surely be hers!

Therefore, Ziye temporarily halted her training at the Virtual Pilot Training Base, sequestering herself in her room to work on the system with Little Sprout. Little Sprout’s system was complete, and Ziye spent hours testing its effects, iterating again and again to hunt down and correct every last bug.

As evening approached, Bran suddenly sought her out and asked, "How was your performance today?" Ziye replied calmly, "I am working on the system. I feel I’ve practiced enough; I don't want to go out today." Bran glanced at the time, his expression hardening.

"That is mandatory homework, required daily. If you don't fight, you can't maintain your feel.

Go." Ziye was deeply reluctant to go. It was nearing quitting time, and all she could think about was finishing up so she could go home for dinner!

How she missed the gourmet food prepared by her home kitchen robot. The kitchen robot at the research institute was utterly dreadful.

The food looked beautiful but tasted like chewing wax—Ziye had loathed it for ages! However, Bran's command was absolute, and despite her unwillingness, she had no choice but to comply.

Entering the Free Combat Zone, a flood of data surged from the match-up list, displaying countless requests for PK matches sent her way. Although she had far fewer matches played than others in her rank bracket, one statistic of hers was exceptionally high: a perfect 100% win rate.

Over these few days, her audience had grown from zero to several hundred; many pilots were intensely curious how long this dark horse could sustain such an impeccable record! Ziye herself was experiencing a slight surge of hubris.

Just as she was about to select a combatant ranked around 1100 for a duel, her peripheral vision caught a Grey Collar among the PK applicants—the mecha he piloted was the Platinum Tycoon model! The Platinum Tycoon model was a deep-seated pain in her heart.

At the end of last year, the owner of that very mecha had taught her, through a lesson written in blood, that she hadn't even stepped across the threshold of true combat. And now, another Platinum Tycoon had forced its way before her.

Regardless of whether the pilot in the cockpit was the same one she’d faced before, she accepted this fight! Not for vengeance.

But to finally determine, after all this time, whether she could stand toe-to-toe with him. Ziye took a deep breath, adjusting her state to peak efficiency, and accepted the Platinum Tycoon’s PK request.

She was teleported onto the battlefield. The opponent had not specified a location, so the default—outer space—was chosen.

Ziye materialized on the field but did not rush out immediately. Instead, she held her ground within a safe zone, observing the Platinum Tycoon with an assessing gaze.

The Platinum Tycoon was as flamboyantly ostentatious as ever. Beneath its gleaming, diamond-encrusted exterior, the pilot’s identity remained completely obscured.

He hadn’t even moved an inch. He stood there with an air of utter composure and leisure, as if he were not a warrior here to duel but a gentleman relaxing in a garden, admiring the moonlight.

Ziye frowned. Her upgraded Three-Titanium Blade sliced toward him with a swoosh!

She didn't expect to land the blow, but it was meant to deliver an initial show of force. Who would have thought that the instant she moved, the opponent moved too?

His speed was faster than hers! His action was more precise than hers!

His strike was cleaner than hers! Before she even registered what was happening, she was thrown back ten meters.

This was the gap! The Platinum Tycoon looked down upon her with a slanted gaze.

"Is that all you've got?" Even through the synthesized voice, Ziye could discern the undisguised contempt within his tone. Ziye tilted her head up to look at him.

The Platinum Tycoon loomed so high, standing before her was like confronting the peak of a mountain—a place she could not reach. The sensation of being pierced clean through by a beam of energy surged back into her chest.

She would not accept it! Ziye gritted her teeth, rose, and engaged again!

Fell once. Fell twice.

On the third attempt, Ziye finally made contact with his long lance. In barely a second, before her blade could execute its next movement, the lance once again pierced her mecha’s left shoulder joint.

With a soft clack, Ziye felt as if her own heart had been skewered. There was no doubt—the Platinum Tycoon before her today was the same one she had seen before.

More than half a year had passed, and he remained just as overwhelmingly powerful, while she, despite months of relentless effort, was still as fragile as an ant before him—he could crush her with a mere flick of his hand! Ziye clenched her fists, rising, her gaze locked fiercely onto the enemy mecha before her.

If he was the strongest boss she had ever encountered, then all the pilots she had defeated previously didn't even qualify as cannon fodder. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in again...

Ziye longed to rush forward and cleave him with her blade, but she knew with grim certainty that it was impossible. Reason brutally suppressed the impulse of emotion, forcing herself to calm down.

She deployed every move she had seen or conceived of before. Defeating him today was impossible; she could only pray to land one solid hit before he disengaged.

Not remain utterly defenseless as she was now. The Platinum Tycoon seemed to read her thoughts.

He stood motionless, and when she charged, he offered no counterattack, merely dodging with effortless grace. Ziye launched perhaps a hundred maneuvers, yet not a single one connected!

Less than half an hour had passed, but Ziye felt more drained than after three hours of battling the 1900 rank pilot. Her mind was utterly exhausted, her physical stamina failing; sweat soaked the back of her armor.

She stubbornly held on, refusing to yield. But just as she paused to catch her breath and glanced at her optical display, she was struck by a horrifying realization: the opponent had stood at the exact same coordinate from start to finish—he hadn't moved an inch!

This meant that under her most ferocious barrage of attacks, in his eyes, they hadn't even registered as a tickle. This was the most devastating blow, yet also the most intense stimulus.

If Ziye hadn't held onto a sliver of defiance, she would have collapsed right there. Was this the gap?

This was the true chasm. This was a true pilot!

"Still want to fight?" the opponent's voice sounded cool, laced with a hint of mockery. Ziye closed her eyes slightly, then reopened them, her gaze now perfectly clear: "Please guide me, Senior." Since she could not overcome him, she would treat him as a teacher, learning his combat techniques.

Once she mastered his skills, she would then cross this formidable peak! The master of the Platinum Tycoon offered a slight smile and raised his perfectly intact long lance once more.

"I look forward to seeing you dodge it—at least once."