Shawn Winehouse didn't know what had happened today.
All morning, the underground arena had been pairing him with newbies.
Ever since word got out that the psychic power requirements for mechas had been lowered, rookies flooded the arena, thinking they were some kind of hidden genius who could just pick up mecha piloting in a snap.
The result? They stumbled around like headless chickens, and Shawn would dispatch them back to the start screen with a single strike. The few who managed a few moves were all style and no substance. The worst one even blew themselves up while firing at him!
Shawn, in a huff, brushed aside a branch blocking his view and spotted a pink mecha.
He smirked wryly to himself, "Another noob, great."
Choosing such a flashy color in a dense forest map was like being a sitting duck, begging to be targeted.
Shawn flicked his long sword and, losing all patience, lunged straight towards the pink mecha.
