Ziye’s nerves instantly tightened, bristling like a hedgehog, her stark black and white eyes fixed intently on Illya. This woman seeking her out at this hour could only mean trouble!

Today, Illya was wearing exquisitely applied makeup, her nose bridge perfectly sculpted, which made her already delicate features appear even more defined. She sat elegantly opposite Ziye, offering a slight smile that, if one looked closely, revealed undisguised contempt in her eyes. "You are Ziye?"

Ziye slowly set the cup she was holding back onto the table, responding with a noncommittal "Mm."

Perhaps it was the delicate, slow manner in which she replaced the cup, a movement that seemed overly cautious, that deepened the disdainful smile on Illya’s face. What began as an attempt to recruit her had devolved into mockery: "How does it feel to be the champion? A bumpkin like you can only make a fool of yourself here."

"Indeed," Ziye suddenly laughed, the air of caution instantly vanishing. "All that effort you expended, specifically ensuring a bumpkin like me became the champion, choosing to rank even one step below a bumpkin—how does that feel? Doesn't it feel better than actually winning the championship?"

Illya’s expression shifted. The most foolish thing in the world is throwing mud only to have it thrown back. Had she not so brazenly ripped off the veneer of civility, there might have been room for reversal. Certainly, Illya would never admit fault for her missteps, so since the boundary was crossed, she decided to escalate the ruthlessness. "You only succeed because you’re Tang Wen’s disciple. Without him, what do you have?"

Ziye sneered, "Miss Illya, if you’re looking to assert your presence by picking on me, perhaps you’ve come to the wrong place. Regardless of what else I may or may not have, I am still the champion, and you," she paused, letting the implication hang heavy, "might just end up as the eternal runner-up."

Ziye hadn't seen Illya once since entering Silver Runic until the Mecha Grand Prix. Her fundamental perception of Illya was rooted in primal hatred. The Illya in her nightmares was a three-headed, six-armed demon, deepening her terror. When she discovered her opponent during the competition was Illya, she treated it as a major threat, terrified of suffering further harm, and until this very moment, she had trod on thin ice. But in the last second, she had suddenly calmed.

No matter how vicious or toxic Illya might be, she was just an ordinary person, with only two arms and two legs. The only real difference was Illya’s narrow disposition. Those who achieve great things in history must possess a thick skin and a black heart; Illya certainly had the heart, but her skin wasn't thick enough—a clear disadvantage. If she wanted to defeat Illya, it shouldn't be difficult.

As Ziye grew increasingly composed, Illya's temper flared, her complexion changing. Just as she was about to erupt, a peripheral glimpse of someone aiming a camera in her direction instantly transformed her rage into a smile, her voice dropping considerably. "You are jealous of me, because even if you win the championship, you will never surpass me."

Ziye couldn't be bothered to engage. Some people truly have an inflated sense of self, don't they?

The reporter who had been taking photos moments ago approached again, snapping a few more shots from the angle diagonally opposite. Seeing this, Illya elegantly stood up, walked over to Ziye’s side, took her hand, and beamed sweetly. Ziye felt a wave of revulsion. How could she have thought Illya’s skin wasn't thick enough just a moment ago? Clearly, this beautiful, malicious woman, smiling so demurely for the camera, possessed a hide thicker than the 2000mm shielding of the space station! If it was a contest of thickness, she was up for it too!

Ziye forced a smile and turned her gaze towards the lens. Illya gave her a sidelong glance; Ziye returned the exact same look. To the reporter, they appeared to be sharing a tacit, mutual smile. The reporter felt like they had hit the jackpot. As the saying goes, a dog biting a man isn't news; a man biting a dog is news.

The first and second place winners are always mortal enemies. If any hint of discord between them were to surface, people would merely glance over it, and carelessly, they might even offend Kaga. After all, Kaga’s policy this year was centered on fostering harmony and promoting healthy student development. It was a rare opportunity to see them cooperating so well; spinning this into positive energy would garner a good reputation for Kaga, making future endeavors much smoother for the administration.

Ziye was unaware of the reporter’s internal monologue; she simply felt that no matter the commotion below, propriety had to be maintained on stage. Thus, the trio—albeit reluctantly—worked in harmony to portray this scene of friendship and accord to the end! After the photographer finished, they conducted a brief interview, during which both women exchanged pleasantries while saying things that were entirely contrary to their true feelings, claiming they were engaging in friendly discussion...

As soon as the reporter left, Illya immediately recoiled, shaking off Ziye's hand with visible disgust, then painstakingly wiped every finger with a tissue, as if Ziye’s touch carried a contagion.

Ziye ignored her and turned to leave. Already in a foul mood from being alone, Ziye felt she might resort to violence if she had to remain in the same vicinity as Illya for much longer.

The venue remained as bustling as ever—some taking photos, others laughing and chatting. She weaved through the crowd for a while, regaining her composure, and dialed Red Hair’s number. No matter what Red Hair was doing, she deserved a greeting. At this moment, Red Hair was the only person she felt like contacting. As for Tang Wen, she had absolutely no desire to see him. —Simply because she didn't know how to face him.

Red Hair answered the super-call quickly, immediately asking, "Where are you?"

Ziye replied, "At the venue, where are you?"

Red Hair said, "Kaga Space Station Sixteen, Headquarters Building. I’m having a chat with the Premier of Kaga. Come over."

Ziye was startled by the speed; she’d already reached Station Sixteen! Since she had received all the awards she was due, staying at the venue held little appeal. She hurried to the docks, boarded Kaga’s transport shuttle, and set off for Station Sixteen.

Roughly halfway there, Ziye suddenly remembered Little Sprout was still in her bag. She quickly opened the bag and liberated the small creature. Because Little Sprout had been staying with Tang Wen lately, she had almost forgotten it had returned to her side. After feeling downcast for a while, suddenly realizing she still had company was a marvelous feeling.

Student Ziye’s spirits immediately lifted, and the gloominess caused by Illya dissipated instantly.

Little Sprout bumped against her chest, looking deeply aggrieved. "Little fool, you tricked me again."

Ziye hurriedly apologized, "I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

Little Sprout huffed, "Lying to me again!"

Ziye pulled a long face. "Great Lord Sprout, I’ve had a terrible day; please let it go this time."

Little Sprout flew up, fanned its wings, and declared haughtily, "This Lord will temporarily let you off."

Ziye happily brought it close to her face and rubbed it gently. "Good boy."

After thinking for a moment, Ziye asked, "Sprout, what are you and Teacher Tang Wen doing?"

Little Sprout bared its tiny teeth. "Not telling you."

Ziye vigorously pinched its neck, shaking it hard. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Little Sprout puffed out its cheeks and refused to speak.

Just as Ziye was about to deploy her ultimate interrogation technique, the station broadcast chimed. She had to temporarily abandon her strenuous questioning and rush to find Red Hair.

Arriving at the Headquarters Building, Red Hair was just stepping out with the Premier of Kaga. Both wore smiles, looking as if they had been enjoying a most pleasant conversation. Seeing Ziye arrive, Red Hair waved cheerfully, beckoning Ziye over. Turning to the Premier, she said, "Please believe me, the students of our Wolf’s Den Legion are exceptional. Take Ziye, for instance; she is the first student from our legion to study at Kaga, and she immediately won the Mecha Grand Prix championship."

The Kaga Premier nodded approvingly. "Student Ziye is indeed outstanding. Continue to strive hard and bring more honor to the school in the future."

Ziye quickly lowered her head. "I will study diligently."

Red Hair smiled. "Ziye’s excellence is thanks to your cultivation here. To express our gratitude, we intend to gift a space station to your side, hoping to benefit even more students in the future."

Ziye gasped, astonished. Gifting a space station? She could only see a blur of zeros flashing before her eyes before they vanished. Wolf’s Den had passed its most destitute period, but even now, their funds were only sufficient to construct ten five-star space stations. For Red Hair to make such a grand gesture as gifting one to Kaga was astounding.

Red Hair seemed to sense her thoughts. Only after bidding farewell to the Kaga Premier and leaving the headquarters did she ask, "Do you think we're too poor to afford it?"

Ziye quickly shook her head. "I understand."

Red Hair raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you understand?"

Ziye explained, "Kaga is actually not lacking in money at all. To attract students to study here, nearly every legion has sent considerable material support. If we only offered something like an experimental lab building, it wouldn't be presentable. Better to be generous and show our sincerity."

Red Hair reached up to sweep back her burgundy, wavy hair, exuding charm. "It seems Kaga’s education is effective; Little Stink has learned to think strategically."

Ziye’s face darkened: That was definitely not a compliment!

Red Hair continued leisurely, "Actually, for Kaga, the best gift wouldn't be a space station, but an aircraft carrier. Kaga always projects an image of harmony; they can't overtly engage in military matters, so they disguise armament needs as scientific research. If an outsider sends it, that's a different story."

Ziye spread her hands helplessly. "I don't follow."

Red Hair didn't press her to understand. "In any case, if we gift a space station, they will have to engrave the words 'Gifted by Wolf’s Den' upon it. Everyone who comes to Kaga thereafter, especially the students, will see it daily. It will be hard not to know about Wolf’s Den—it’s essentially paying for long-term advertising."

Ziye just shrugged again.

The two walked side-by-side toward the landing platform. Red Hair was rarely so earnest. "Little Stink, you are Wolf’s Den’s figurehead now; don't tarnish it."

Ziye shot her a displeased sideways glance. "Do I look like that kind of person?"

Red Hair suddenly turned, wrapping her arms around Ziye and vigorously rubbing her sturdy chest against Ziye’s shoulder, laughing heartily. "I’m leaving now. Next month, I'm heading to the Unification Department to fight for Wolf’s Den’s sovereignty." With that, she strode towards the landing platform.

Ziye stopped in her tracks, watching Red Hair’s retreating silhouette. Though she was alone, she didn't feel solitary; instead, she felt a surge of stored energy, an invisible resolve. In that instant, she suddenly felt she wasn't alone. She had Wolf’s Den, she had Red Hair, she had numerous people who cared for her.

Ziye suddenly remembered something and rushed after her. "Red Hair, are you heading back to Wolf’s Den? Take my trophy with you."

Red Hair turned back, her smile blooming wide. "Alright."

Every member of the Out-of-Sheath team received a medal, but there was only one trophy because it was a team award, so in the end, no one claimed it; it was placed in Kaga's exhibition hall. Ziye had won an Outstanding Individual Award for mecha modification, earning her a personal trophy, which she handed over to Red Hair to take back. —To inspire the future students of Wolf’s Den, keep fighting! -RS