Chapter 20: Crazy Ideas
In an unknown location—after the bald supervisor had turned off the communicator last time—one subordinate asked inquisitively, "Supervisor, about our company's internal affairs: why do we have to hire people from the Red Count? Their group's stance is rather questionable—a bit anti-human, even."
The bald supervisor replied with a wry smile, "Isn't it because, last time, the headquarters' intelligence department dispatched a C-level gene-enhancer with extensive field experience who, inexplicably, just died? Headquarters brought his body back, and they found nothing—his bio-chip was nothing but gibberish. We suspect it was Anzhijie Services' doing."
Only then did the subordinate realize, "No wonder this assignment was handed to us again—aren't they trying to make us take the blame?"
"Look," the supervisor continued, "we can't really comment on the power struggles at the top, but we aren't in a position to cross gray giants like Anzhijie. These gray giants hold countless secrets—even if Anzhijie dares not disclose them—and they can cause us trouble with little effort."
He leaned in conspiratorially and added, "The Red Count, on the other hand, is all about credits. When has our company ever lacked a string of digits? And my gut tells me that if an A-level member of the Red Count shows up in Woer City, something big is about to go down. As the saying goes, 'Fishing in troubled waters'—the more chaotic things get, the more it benefits us. Now, get the field department to send someone over to Woer City and be ready to follow any orders."
The subordinate immediately flattered him, "Your wisdom is unmatched, Supervisor. We'll prepare on all fronts. If the Red Count stirs up trouble, you'll have all the credit, and if our own people seize the chance in the chaos, success is nearly guaranteed."
"Hey, you know why organizations like the Red Count have survived all these years?" the bald supervisor asked with a chuckle.
A bit puzzled, the subordinate asked, "Supervisor, what do you mean?"
The supervisor leaned back and began, "Let me tell you a story. Once in a city, a gang of thieves robbed a bank. The bank manager cooperated fully by handing over the money to the thieves. When these thieves got home, they found they'd pocketed 5 million. Yet the media later reported that the bank had been robbed of 50 million—and during the subsequent arrests, every single thief was killed."
The subordinate, deep in thought, queried, "So, are you saying that the Red Count's people are there to cover up certain things?"
The supervisor laughed softly, "Heh, what is the eternal nature of the world? It is darkness. Look up at the starry sky—even though it's dotted with countless stars, darkness still fills the vast majority of space. Stars may one day fade out, but darkness is eternal."
"Supervisor, your words are full of philosophy," the subordinate remarked.
"Enough talk—get back to work. Tell the team tracking our target to stay safe. Anzhijie isn't someone you want to mess with."
"Understood," came the prompt reply.
Meanwhile, Yang Bo went about his normal work—performing simple cleaning tasks. On Monday, he earned 900 points plus a base salary of 500.
"Not nearly enough money," he grumbled as he returned to his dorm, caught in a dilemma.
For now, there would be no further E-level professional assessments. Sure, playing games is fun, but game expenses are steep—averaging over 1,000 credit points an hour. And if you fight monsters or mutants, your mech sustains even greater damage. The game's rules were simple: defeat mutated animals, mutants, or enemy mechs and earn rewards.
Rewards came in two types—fixed payouts per enemy unit (varying by enemy level) and additional loot evaluations.
"Could it be that those mutated creatures are actually used as materials for genetic agents?
And are the mutants among the enemy units actually another kind of gene-enhancer?
What about the enemy mechs?" Yang Bo wondered aloud.
As he soaked in the bath—using his palms to heat the water and expend his 'force'—he pondered that he still didn't understand the nature of this energy inside him. It could transform into both electrical energy and light energy. Once depleted, he would recharge, and after the game ended, he'd recharge again.
Soon, he logged into the game. His mech had already been serviced, and Yang Bo hurried out toward the base's perimeter—time was money. His mech normally moved on foot; it didn't normally engage its rocket backpack unless necessary. Fortunately, the roads around the base were in good condition. Yang Bo planned to enter the plains because his radar showed that, after his rampage yesterday, the number of rats and birds around the base had dropped significantly.
The plains were covered in tall grass—resembling reeds but much taller, reaching seven to eight meters—severely limiting the mech's vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" he mused, eyeing the thick, dry leaves covering the grass.
Not one to act rashly, Yang Bo first surveyed the terrain. He selected a spot on higher ground—where his radar indicated a high density of rats and plenty of birds—while lower areas were damp or even watery. Then, like a lawnmower, his Blade mech unsheathed its five‐meter-long plasma cutter and carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that high-ground area, which spanned hundreds of acres.
As he mowed the grass, some busybody started snapping photos and posting on the forums.
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing the lawn," one post read.
Another chimed, "Wow, this guy's a psycho—call customer service!"
A third post mocked, "Hey, Bird-Slayer, have some manners!"
Yet another added, "Man, this game environment is brutal. Why don't the officials update the version instead of just slacking off?"
Yang Bo remained oblivious to the onlookers; the overgrown grass might have been there for years, a thick, desiccated layer from the previous season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept all the cut grass into a central pile and constructed a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it.
Forum users were baffled by what "Bird-Slayer" was doing. In that hundred-plus acres, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the overgrown grass burst into flames, and billowing, thick smoke stunned the managers of Base 16—but there was no real danger. A gust of wind sent the accumulated dry leaves crackling into flame, making the scorched area look much like a sugarcane field burning in the Western lands.
As streams of information surged through his mind, Yang Bo's radar confirmed:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
He felt tempted to set the entire plain ablaze, but thought better of it—if the officials fined or punished him, that wouldn't be good. This small area was just a test experiment; if the authorities didn't intervene… he chuckled to himself, "Maybe I can even cause some mischief under the guise of a task!"
"Man, this is stupid!" he muttered.
"Tsk, tsk—this is just insane!" many forum users vented their frustration.
Yang Bo watched, plasma blade in hand, pondering the officials' silence and wondering if he should look for another patch of land.
Then, out of nowhere, a huge black silhouette burst from the burning area toward his mech. Yang Bo had been watching the fire carefully to keep the birds in check; as soon as he saw the shadow, he instinctively flipped his plasma blade and aimed at it.
Then—black screen!
"Damn," Yang Bo muttered, his heart sinking. Repairing the Blade mech would cost an astronomical sum.
––––––
Back at the company, life went on as usual. Yang Bo performed his cleaning tasks—earning 900 points plus his base salary of 500 on Monday. Yet, when he returned to his dorm, he found himself caught in a financial bind. He wasn't scheduled for any further E-level professional tests, and though playing games was enjoyable, the expenses were steep—averaging over 1,000 credit points an hour. In the game, if you fought monsters or mutants, the mech would sustain even greater damage. The game's structure was simple: defeat mutated animals, mutants, or enemy mechs to earn rewards. Rewards were split between fixed payouts (varying by enemy level) and additional loot evaluations.
Yang Bo, while soaking in the bath and expending his mysterious 'force'—which could transform into both electrical and light energy—wondered aloud: "Could it be that these mutated creatures are used as material for genetic agents? And are the mutants among the enemy units actually another type of gene-enhancer? What about the enemy mechs?"
He wasn't sure what this 'force' was, but after using it up he'd recharge, and then after the game ended he'd recharge once more.
Soon, he entered the game; his mech was freshly maintained, and Yang Bo raced out toward the base's perimeter—time was money. His mech normally walked, rarely activating its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads around the base were in good repair. Yang Bo planned to enter the plains because his radar showed that after his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped significantly.
The plains, covered with tall, reed-like grass (seven to eight meters high), made visibility a challenge.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused as he surveyed the thick, dry leaves littering the plains.
He didn't act impulsively, however. First he studied the terrain and chose a spot on higher ground—where his radar indicated an abundance of rats and birds—while lower areas were damp or even watery. Then, like a lawnmower, his Blade mech unsheathed its five-meter-long plasma cutter and carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that high-ground area, which spanned hundreds of acres.
While mowing, some onlookers began snapping photos and posting on the forums:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Whoa, this guy's nuts—call customer support!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, have some manners!"
"Haha, he's always doing crazy stuff every day."
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why don't the officials ever update the version?"
Unbeknownst to Yang Bo, his every move was being recorded—the wild grass might have been growing for years, thick and withered from the previous season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the fallen grass into a pile and constructed a massive torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it.
Forum chatter exploded as many wondered what "Bird-Slayer" was up to. In that hundred-plus acres, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the overgrown grass caught fire, and thick, rolling smoke left the managers of Base 16 completely stunned—though there was no real danger. A gust of wind sent the dry leaves, piled beneath the grass, crackling into flame, making the burnt area resemble a sugarcane field in the West.
His mind buzzing with new information, Yang Bo's HUD flashed additional skill increases:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
He felt an overwhelming urge to set the entire plain ablaze, but decided against it—if the officials fined or punished him, that would be a major headache. Besides, this small test area was just a trial; if the authorities didn't intervene… he chuckled, "Maybe I can use the task to cause some havoc!"
"Man, this is crazy!" he muttered.
"Tsk, tsk—this is unbelievable!" the forum erupted with expletives.
Yang Bo, still holding his plasma blade, wondered if the officials' silence meant he could find another area to experiment.
Then, suddenly, a massive black shape emerged from the burning zone and charged straight for his mech. Already on alert in the fire, Yang Bo immediately flipped his plasma blade and aimed at the intruder.
Then—black screen!
"Damn," Yang Bo groaned, his heart sinking. The repair costs for the Blade mech were astronomical.
––––––
Meanwhile, life continued on the other side. Yang Bo went to work as usual, performing simple cleaning tasks. On Monday, he earned 900 points plus his base salary of 500. Yet, when he returned to his dorm, he found himself in a bind—money was tight.
Although he wasn't scheduled for any further E-level professional assessments, and while playing games was fun, the expenses were sky-high—averaging over 1,000 credit points an hour. In the game, battling monsters, mutants, or enemy mechs led to significant mech damage, and rewards were given in two ways: fixed payments for each enemy unit (varying by level) and additional loot evaluations.
Yang Bo mulled over his options while soaking in the tub, using his palms to heat the water—a technique that expended his mysterious 'force' that could convert to both electrical and light energy. Once that energy was depleted, he would recharge, and after the game ended, he'd recharge once more.
After finishing his bath, he reentered the game. His mech had been maintained, so Yang Bo hurried out toward the base's outskirts—after all, time is money. The mech moved on foot most of the time, rarely activating its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads around the base were in excellent condition. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar showed that, after his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped dramatically.
The plains were covered in tall grass—resembling reeds but much taller, up to seven or eight meters—greatly hindering vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo considered as he surveyed the area, noticing the thick layer of dry leaves.
Not one to act recklessly, he first scanned the terrain and chose a spot on higher ground where his radar indicated an abundance of rats and birds, while lower areas were wet or damp. Then, his Blade mech—like a giant lawnmower—unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and, in one smooth motion, carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that high-ground patch, covering hundreds of acres.
As Yang Bo mowed the grass, some bystanders began snapping photos and posting on the forums:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Wow, this guy's insane—call customer support!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, show some courtesy!"
"Haha, he's always up to something crazy every day."
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why do the officials never update the version?"
Yang Bo remained unaware that someone was recording him—the wild grass, likely grown over many years, was a thick, desiccated carpet from last season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the cut grass into a central pile and fashioned it into a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Many on the forums were left scratching their heads—what was Bird-Slayer doing? When they saw Yang Bo light the fire, they were completely baffled. In that hundred-plus acre area, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the overgrown grass burst into flames; thick, rolling smoke left the managers of Base 16 utterly stunned, though there was no real danger. A gust of wind swept through, setting the accumulated dry leaves aflame, and the scorched ground looked like a sugarcane field burning in the West.
Yang Bo's HUD flashed more skill gains:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
He could almost feel his mind bursting with new information. Gazing out over the vast plain, he was tempted to set everything ablaze, but decided against it—if the officials fined or punished him, that would be disastrous. This small area was just a test; if the authorities overlooked it… he chuckled, "Maybe I can use this task as an opportunity to cause some mischief!"
"Man, this is ridiculous!" he muttered.
"Tsk, tsk—this is simply insane!" raged forum posts.
Yang Bo, holding his plasma blade, pondered quietly as he watched—wondering if the officials' silence meant he could secure another plot.
Then, suddenly, a massive black shadow surged from the fiery area toward his mech. Already vigilant over the fire to prevent any escaping birds, Yang Bo instinctively flipped his plasma blade and aimed at the intruder.
Then—black screen!
"Damn," Yang Bo whispered bitterly as his heart sank. The repair bill for the Blade mech would be astronomical.
––––––
Later that day, while Yang Bo went about his normal work cleaning, he earned 900 points plus his base salary of 500 on Monday. Yet when he returned to his dorm, he was left in a quandary.
Playing games was enjoyable, but the in-game expenses were exorbitant—averaging over 1,000 credit points per hour. If you battled monsters or mutants, your mech would suffer even more damage. The game's system was straightforward: defeat mutated animals, mutants, or enemy mechs and earn rewards. Rewards were split between fixed payouts (varying by enemy level) and loot evaluations.
As Yang Bo bathed, using his hands to heat the water, he pondered the mysterious 'force' coursing within him—which could transform into both electric and light energy. After expending it, he would recharge, and when the game ended, he'd recharge again.
After finishing his bath, Yang Bo reentered the game. His mech had been serviced, so he dashed out toward the base's outskirts—because, as he reminded himself, time is money. His mech moved on foot most of the time; it seldom activated its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads around the base were in excellent condition. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar showed that, after his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped dramatically.
The plains were a sea of tall grass—resembling reeds but reaching heights of seven to eight meters—which severely hindered the mech's vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused, eyeing the thick, dry leaf cover.
He didn't act impulsively, though. He carefully surveyed the terrain and selected an area on higher ground where his radar indicated a high density of rats and plenty of birds, while lower areas were damp. Then his Blade mech—like an enormous lawnmower—unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and, in one clean stroke, carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that high ground.
As Yang Bo mowed the grass, a few troublemakers began taking pictures and posting on forums:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Whoa, this guy's nuts—call customer service!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, have some manners!"
"Haha, this Bird-Slayer is always doing crazy stuff!"
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why do the officials keep slacking off and not updating the version?"
Unaware of the cameras, Yang Bo continued his work. The wild grass—perhaps grown over many years with a thick layer of dried matter from last season—was now being chopped away. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the fallen grass into a pile and fashioned a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Many forum users were left stunned—what exactly was Bird-Slayer up to? In that hundred-plus acre area, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the overgrown grass caught fire; billowing smoke stunned the managers of Base 16, though there was no real danger. A gust of wind sent the accumulated dry leaves crackling into flame, and the burnt patches resembled a sugarcane field ablaze in the West.
As streams of data flooded his mind, his HUD flashed further gains:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
Yang Bo felt an urge to set the entire plain alight—but he decided against it. If the officials fined or punished him, it would be disastrous. This small patch was merely a test; if the authorities chose to ignore it… he chuckled to himself, "Maybe I can use this task as cover to cause some mischief!"
"Maybe I can even go on a rampage under the guise of a mission!" he thought.
At that moment, he recalled a familiar phrase—someone on the forum had already complained, "This is insane!" while others ranted, "This guy is a complete coward in real life, taking out his frustrations in the game." But Yang Bo paid no heed. He stood there with his long plasma blade, mulling over the officials' silence and wondering if he should secure another piece of land.
Then suddenly—a massive black figure lunged from the fiery chaos toward his mech. Yang Bo, already alert to the flames to prevent any escape of birds, instinctively flipped his plasma blade and aimed at the intruder.
Then—the screen went black!
"Damn," Yang Bo muttered, his heart sinking. The repair costs for the Blade mech were astronomical.
––––––
After work, Yang Bo continued his routine—earning his wages from cleaning. On Monday, he'd earned 900 points plus a 500-point base salary. Yet, when he returned to his dorm, he found himself in a quandary. With no imminent E-level professional tests and the high expenses of gaming (averaging over 1,000 credit points per hour), every minute counted. In the game, battling monsters, mutants, or enemy mechs led to even greater mech damage. The game was simple: defeat mutated animals, mutants, or hostile mechs to earn rewards, which came as fixed payments (varying by enemy level) and extra loot evaluations.
As Yang Bo bathed—using his hands to heat the water and expend his mysterious 'force' (which could convert into both electrical and light energy)—he wondered aloud, "Could it be that those mutated creatures are used as materials for genetic agents? And are the mutants among the enemy units a different type of gene-enhancer? What about the enemy mechs?"
He still wasn't sure what this 'force' was. After using it up, he would recharge—and when the game ended, he'd recharge again.
Shortly thereafter, he reentered the game. His mech was serviced, and Yang Bo hurriedly ran out toward the base's perimeter—because time is money. His mech moved on foot, rarely activating its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads around the base were well maintained. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar showed that, after his rampage the previous day, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped significantly.
The plains were swathed in tall grass—resembling reeds but much taller (seven to eight meters high)—making it hard for the mech to maintain clear vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused, studying the thick, dry leaves covering the ground.
Not acting impulsively, he first observed the terrain carefully and chose a spot on high ground where his radar indicated many rats and a good number of birds, while lower areas were damp. Then his Blade mech, like a giant lawnmower, unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and, in one smooth motion, carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that high-ground area spanning hundreds of acres.
As he mowed, a few troublemakers began snapping photos and posting on forums:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Whoa, this guy's a psycho—call customer support!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, show some manners!"
"Ha, this Bird-Slayer is always up to crazy antics!"
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why aren't the officials updating the version?"
Yang Bo remained unaware that someone was recording him—the overgrown grass, perhaps cultivated over many years, had a thick, withered layer from the previous season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the chopped grass into a pile and fashioned it into a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Many forum users were baffled by what "Bird-Slayer" was doing. In that hundred-plus acre area, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the grass caught fire, and thick, billowing smoke stunned the managers of Base 16—but there was no danger. A gust of wind sent the accumulated dry leaves crackling into flame, and the burnt patch resembled a sugarcane field ablaze in the West.
Streams of data surged in Yang Bo's mind as his HUD flashed additional skill gains:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
He felt an intense urge to set the entire plain on fire, but he held back—if the officials fined or punished him, that would be disastrous. This small test area was merely experimental; if the authorities chose to ignore it… he chuckled, "Maybe I can use this task to cause some mischief!"
After a moment, Yang Bo recalled that while soaking in the bath, he had been expending his mysterious 'force'—which could transform into electrical or light energy—to heat the water. He wasn't sure what exactly this 'force' was. Once he depleted it, he'd recharge, and later, after the game ended, he'd recharge again.
Then he reentered the game. His mech had been maintained, so Yang Bo dashed out toward the base's perimeter—time is money. His mech normally moved on foot and rarely activated its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads were in good condition. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar indicated that after his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had plummeted.
The plains were covered with tall grass—like reeds but reaching seven to eight meters—which severely restricted his vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused as he surveyed the thick, dry leaves.
After careful observation, he chose a spot on higher ground—where his radar showed many rats and birds—and then, like an enormous lawnmower, his Blade mech unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that area.
While mowing, some bystanders began snapping photos and posting online:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Damn, this guy's crazy—call customer service!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, have some manners!"
"Haha, this guy is always up to wild antics!"
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why are the officials slacking and never updating the version?"
Yang Bo remained oblivious to the cameras. The wild grass, grown thick over many years, had a dense, withered cover from last season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the fallen grass into a central pile and built a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Forum chatter exploded—many wondered what Bird-Slayer was doing. In that hundred-plus acre area, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the grass ignited; billowing smoke left the managers of Base 16 utterly stunned, though there was no danger. A gust of wind swept through, setting the piled-up dry leaves alight, and the scorched ground looked like a burning sugarcane field in the West.
Then, his HUD flashed further gains:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
Tempted to set the entire plain on fire, Yang Bo reconsidered—if the officials fined or punished him, that would be a disaster. This small test area was just experimental; if the authorities didn't intervene… he chuckled, "Maybe I can use this task to cause some mischief!"
His thoughts then turned to his own work. Back at his job, Yang Bo continued performing simple cleaning tasks—earning 900 points plus a base salary of 500 on Monday. But when he returned to his dorm, he found himself in a quandary: money was tight.
Gaming was fun, but its costs were high—averaging over 1,000 credit points per hour. And if you fought monsters, mutants, or enemy mechs, your mech sustained even greater damage. The game was simple: defeat mutated creatures, mutants, or hostile mechs to earn rewards. Rewards came in two forms: fixed payouts (depending on enemy level) and extra loot assessments.
While bathing—using his hands to heat the water and thus expend his mysterious 'force' (which could convert into both electric and light energy)—Yang Bo pondered, "Could those mutated creatures be used as material for genetic agents? Are the mutants among the enemy units a different kind of gene-enhancer? And what about the enemy mechs?"
He still didn't know what this 'force' truly was. Once expended, he'd recharge; and after the game ended, he'd recharge once more.
Later, he reentered the game. His mech was serviced, so Yang Bo sprinted out toward the base's perimeter—time is money. The mech normally walked; it rarely activated its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads around the base were excellent. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar showed that, after his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped significantly.
The plains were a sea of tall, reed-like grass—reaching seven to eight meters high—which made it hard for his mech to maintain clear vision.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused, eyeing the thick, dry leaf cover.
After surveying the terrain, he selected a patch on high ground—where his radar indicated a high density of rats and plenty of birds—while lower areas were damp. Then, his Blade mech, like a giant lawnmower, unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that area.
As he mowed, some troublemakers began snapping photos and posting online:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Man, this guy's insane—call customer service!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, show some manners!"
"Haha, this Bird-Slayer never ceases to amaze!"
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why do the officials keep slacking off and not updating the version?"
Yang Bo remained oblivious to the cameras—the wild grass, grown thick over many years, had a dense, withered layer from the previous season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the chopped grass into a pile and built a large torch. Then he activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Many on the forums were baffled by what Bird-Slayer was doing. In that hundred-plus acre area, there were thousands of rats. Soon, the grass burst into flames; thick smoke stunned the managers of Base 16, though no real danger ensued. A gust of wind sent the dry leaves crackling into flame, and the scorched ground resembled a burning sugarcane field in the West.
Yang Bo's HUD then flashed additional skill gains:
Dynamic Vision +1!
Flight +1!
Dynamic Vision +1!
Infrared Vision +1!
He was tempted to set the entire plain ablaze, but he held back—if the officials fined or punished him, it would be a disaster. This experimental area was small; if the authorities didn't intervene… he chuckled, "Maybe I can use this task to cause some mischief!"
Then, while recalling his earlier use of his mysterious 'force' in the bath—its ability to convert into both electric and light energy—Yang Bo resolved that after expending it, he would recharge, and after the game ended, he'd recharge again.
Shortly thereafter, he reentered the game. His mech was serviced, so he dashed out toward the base's perimeter—time is money. His mech moved on foot and rarely activated its rocket backpack. Fortunately, the roads were in excellent condition. Yang Bo decided to head into the plains, as his radar showed that, following his rampage yesterday, the numbers of rats and birds around the base had dropped dramatically.
The plains were shrouded in tall grass—resembling reeds but towering up to seven or eight meters—which greatly hindered visibility.
"Maybe I should set a fire?" Yang Bo mused as he surveyed the thick, dry leaves.
After careful observation, he selected an area on high ground—where his radar indicated a high density of rats and birds—then, like a giant lawnmower, his Blade mech unsheathed its five-meter plasma cutter and carved out a 20-meter-wide firebreak around that area.
As he mowed, some troublemakers began snapping photos and posting online:
"Guys, Bird-Slayer is out mowing!"
"Whoa, this guy's nuts—call customer service!"
"Hey, Bird-Slayer, show some manners!"
"Haha, this Bird-Slayer is always up to crazy antics!"
"Tsk, tsk—this game environment is brutal. Why do the officials keep slacking off and not updating the version?"
Yang Bo remained unaware that someone was recording him. The overgrown grass—possibly cultivated over many years—had a thick, withered layer from the previous season. Using his energy shield like a shovel, he swept the cut grass into a pile and built a large torch, then activated his rocket backpack to ignite it!
Soon, forum users were abuzz with questions: "Where is Bird-Slayer? I'm going to report this idiot!"
Others commented, "This guy's life must be miserable in real life!"
"Clearly a coward—a pathetic loser!"
"Haha, I know exactly where he is. Wait till I report it to the news!"
Yang Bo didn't frequent the game forums; two hours a night was his limit.
Feeling suddenly hungry, he nearly set his mind on recharging himself when an idea struck: "Charge up directly!"
Twenty minutes later, he was astonished—he felt power surging throughout his body, and his hunger mysteriously vanished.
"Am I still human? No way—I need to drink a box of milk to calm down," he muttered, puzzled by the strange changes in his body.
He noticed that the battery's displayed consumption had increased by 10% compared to this afternoon—what did that mean? Perhaps his body's total energy capacity had increased. Soon after, he also felt his reaction times had improved.
"Tomorrow, I'll go to work and then, after work, work on enhancing my Dynamic Vision," he resolved. He realized that without strong Dynamic Vision, piloting a mech—especially predicting the erratic flight paths of birds—was nearly impossible. Even with computer assistance, the delay from alert to reaction is critical; in supersonic combat, a mere 0.01-second delay can mean a 4-meter difference.
Lying in bed, Yang Bo recalled something Wu Bing once said about how some of humanity's administrative stars had already vanished. Were entire planets exploding, or was it just as in the game?
On Sunday, he earned 5,400 credit points thanks to double pay—and since this game was so "pay-to-win," Yang Bo resolved not to use his hard-earned points anymore.
That evening, after returning home tired, he plugged into the property's charging station. In ten minutes, his battery was full at a cost of 50 credit points per session.
After eating, he logged into the game again. Yang Bo carefully reviewed the equipment details. The most expensive maintenance cost was for the rocket backpack, which could propel a mech weighing over 100 tons to a top speed of three times the speed of sound—and in three seconds, break six times the speed of sound. Compared to advanced mechs that can hit ten times the speed of sound in one second, these were practically scrap. Yet, even scrapped, a mech is a mech. Most early- and mid-level mechs used nuclear batteries, while high-level ones used solid-state energy with tremendous burst power.
"Primary target: rats. Secondary target: birds."
Yang Bo decided to remain close to the fortress—it conserved time. Nearby, only small animals like birds and rabbits roamed. He wasn't picky; any kill that increased his skill was welcome.
With a swift stomp in a clump of grass, he took out a rat.
Dynamic Vision +1!
Time is money, and every mech movement requires maintenance—which costs money. So Yang Bo refrained from targeting larger animals; his radar focused on birds and rats.
The game's mini-map showed numerous green dots—targets detected by his facilities. Over time, his mech felt smoother, and the plasma cutter in his hand was as lethal as the Grim Reaper's scythe. With the thrust from his rocket backpack, his mech—over 100 tons in weight—soared up to 80 meters, and with one swing of his blade, a bird was cleaved in two. Then, thanks to the counter-thrust of his rocket backpack, he landed safely… Perfect!
Base 16 was an enormous, all-metal complex—1,000 meters in diameter and 800 meters tall, built atop granite.
Yang Bo spent two hours clearing the area within a 1,000-meter radius of the base—ridding it of rats and birds—before leaving the game.
What Yang Bo didn't know was that his performance had earned him minor fame on the Mech World forums. Today's display around the base had been recorded.
"Tell me—where is this place? I'm going to report this idiot!"
"Man, this guy's real-life must be miserable."
"He's clearly a coward—a pathetic loser."
"Haha, guys, I know exactly where he is. Wait till I report it to the news."
Yang Bo wasn't one for forums; two hours of gaming each night was his limit.
After his session, he checked his skills:
Flight: Advanced (265/1000), Dynamic Vision: Advanced (375/1000).
He wondered, "I wish I could find some electric eels—or maybe some fluorescent poison frogs. If I could locate a cave with thousands of bats, that would be perfect."
Before sleep, his mind buzzed with such thoughts.
Meanwhile, about three kilometers from where Yang Bo lived, in an apartment, a young man with yellow hair reviewed some documents. After tossing them aside, he activated his communicator and mockingly asked, "Is this really the kind of person you want me to deal with—a low-level resident from Anzhijie Services?"
A mechanical voice replied, "Sir, will you take the job or not?"
"Take it, but set the deadline at 40 days," the yellow-haired youth said, eyeing the reward and promptly agreeing.
"Why?" the communicator inquired.
"Some things are best left unasked," he replied, rising and staring off at a massive building in the distance.
"Alright," came the response.
"And in 38 days, at a grand feast, we'll be the undisputed protagonists," he added, his eyes lighting up as he noted a row of shimmering red letters on the building—only 38 days until the 32nd stop of the Li Duo Ai Federation concert tour, which thrilled him.
(End of Chapter)