Chapter 116: Selling Scrap to Feed You

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

The final four rounds were split into two stages. After the draw, Jaeger Industries faced the third Base, and the First Base went up against the Huishi Group. As expected, the Third Base and Huishi Group were eliminated, leaving Jaeger Industries and the First R&D Base to finally face each other in direct combat on the battlefield.

The practical battlefield was in the uninhabited desert zone of New Blue Star’s District 13. The organizers built temporary observation towers and work areas. After the first round of the semifinals, the participants’ mecha were not returned to their manufacturing bases but sent to their respective work areas for inspection and improvement. The final showdown would commence three days later.

Mo Feng observed Jiang Wei’s forced pale and tense expression and worried that the man was on the verge of obsession. He assigned extra personnel to monitor the prototype NTL, fearing Jiang Wei might tamper with it. Over the next three days, nothing unusual happened. Jiang Wei seemed preoccupied with improving his Xi Feng J-mecha and had no time for mischief.

Lu Yao, accompanied by Zhou Yunchen, arrived at District 13 on the final night to conduct the last full inspection and evaluation of the NTL.

Lu Yao looked up at the towering mecha. Standing beneath the cold light, it seemed almost alive. New scratches had been covered with paint, and the tech team was on the lift, checking the mecha’s rear aerodynamic control system.

“Chief Engineer Lu!” the assembly and testing supervisor ran over, out of breath from years of office-bound weakness. “Ch-Chief…”

“Slow down and speak,” Lu Yao said, trying to catch the words.

“Emergency… urgent situation!” the supervisor straightened up. “Pranov… broke his leg.”

Lu Yao’s gaze sharpened. “Repeat that. Exactly what happened?”

“Pranov, the mecha pilot we arranged, was playing a game with his daughter last night, fell down the stairs, and suffered a compound fracture. Even in the highest-grade treatment chamber, the doctors say it will take three days for the bone to heal.”

“And the backup, Berya?”

The supervisor’s face grimaced. “We contacted Berya immediately, but he got into a traffic accident on the way here. His flight vehicle crashed, leaving him severely injured and unconscious.”

Mo Feng approached, face cold. “I don’t believe these are coincidences.”

“Any other test pilots available?” Lu Yao asked, focusing more on the practical implications than conspiracy.

“I tried,” Mo Feng sneered. “Several highly skilled pilots who worked closely with us all retired simultaneously and joined Jaeger Industries. Jiang Wei doesn’t even attempt to hide anything. Honestly, after the Federation Intelligence Bureau investigation, either Jaeger Industries collapses or he ends up in jail. If I were him, I’d be transferring assets, changing identities, preparing to escape right now.”

“Can we contact other mecha pilots?” Zhou Yunchen, who had remained silent, finally asked.

“Yes,” Lu Yao said. “But their skill levels vary. If a few high-level pilots can’t make it, it may affect the competition outcome.”

“What if I step in?”

“What?” Lu Yao turned, surprised. “Aren’t you working tomorrow?”

“I can take leave,” Zhou Yunchen said. “Are there special rules for pilots in the tournament? Like only registered pilots can compete?”

“No, but…”

“My mecha skills aren’t bad.”

“It’s not about skill,” Lu Yao said seriously, “you shouldn’t pilot a mecha that hasn’t gone through the full testing process. Test pilots have signed agreements acknowledging the risks, even though tomorrow’s NTL match is a fight, the dangers are the same—possibly even worse.”

“I’m aware of the risks now.”

“Zhou Yunchen, you don’t understand my point. You’re a Federation General. This isn’t a risk you should be taking.”

“The leopard-form mecha never went through testing either, and we piloted it. There’s no difference now,” Zhou Yunchen said. “Yaoyao, there’s no distinction in life value between a General and an ordinary soldier.”

The supervisor’s face changed color, and Mo Feng gritted his teeth at Zhou Yunchen.

Logically, Zhou Yunchen was correct. Morally, no one could object. But in practical operations, some people simply could not be placed in harm’s way. Once spoken aloud, the implicit rules and cold risk calculations were exposed. Lu Yao studied Zhou Yunchen, his jawline sharp and cold. “You really want to pilot tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Zhou Yunchen did not flinch. As Lu Yao moved closer, close enough that only they could hear, the heat of his breath made Zhou Yunchen shiver. Lu Yao whispered, almost a breath: “Is it for equality, or because it’s my competition?”

Zhou Yunchen felt a flutter at the nape of his neck—the full marking’s connection rising subtly—and said near Lu Yao’s ear, “For my own selfish reasons. It’s not so clear-cut. Because of my selfishness, I’m here tonight, and this is my decision.”

Lu Yao stepped back, glancing at him one last time before turning to the supervisor. “Submit his name to the organizers to replace the previous two pilots. Take him to try the prototype combat suit.”

As Zhou Yunchen passed by Lu Yao, he heard a final instruction: “Sleep alone tonight. I won’t come to you.”

“Why?” Had he upset Lu Yao? Why must he sleep alone?

Lu Yao frowned. “Because I want you to get to bed early.” Likely, neither would sleep early tonight. Zhou Yunchen, “…”

He wrapped his arms around Lu Yao’s waist and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good.”

After Zhou Yunchen left, Mo Feng stepped forward. “Are you staying in this room too?”

Lu Yao shook his head, his gaze returning to the massive silver-white mecha standing coldly under the lights. “I want to inspect the prototype myself one more time.”

“The scheduled inspection is nearly complete,” Mo Feng said. “You could take a break.”

“I’ll check it myself. Tomorrow I’m just a spectator; tonight, whether I rest or not doesn’t matter.”

Mo Feng sighed, patted Lu Yao on the shoulder. “That’s your private whim. Decide for yourself—but be careful. Don’t end up like Pranov, breaking a leg.”

District 13, Hephaestus Tournament Finals

“The two teams led by these young talents have made it to the final showdown… We eagerly anticipate…”

The organizer’s voice rang out with ceremonial vigor. The wide combat arena was surrounded by protective force fields. The audience stands and the podium were arranged in semi-circles along the sides. Seating was limited—invitation only for industry insiders—while the rest of the public could watch the finals via live stream.

The main camera, linked to the broadcast, rotated in sync with the speaker, scanning across the guests attending the event. Mo Feng nudged Lu Yao’s shoulder repeatedly. “Camera’s on you. Eyes open!”

Groggy, Lu Yao lifted his eyelids and straightened, but the camera still captured the moment.

“Chief Engineer Lu is dozing! Look at those eyelashes!”

“I always thought Lu Yao was some AI robot. Turns out he sleeps too?”

“He’s probably exhausted. After all, this tournament condenses what used to take one or two years into just a couple months.”

“True. Look at Jiang Wei’s dark circles—he looks like a vampire.”

“Can we speak more politely about researchers? Who wouldn’t be tired after working day and night?”

“And it’s not just mecha building wearing him down—Jaeger Industries is under investigation by the Federation Intelligence Bureau for murder and theft of confidential tech.”

“???”

With the opening remarks concluded, the competitors’ mecha entered the battlefield. The martial match entered the preparation phase. Lu Yao stepped down from the stands, joining the base technicians to check the prototype’s operational status.

The pilots arrived, clad in full combat suits with helmets covering their entire heads. Except for some unusually tall frames, nothing revealed their identities.

The lift would bring them to cockpit height. Lu Yao climbed up as well, checking Zhou Yunchen’s suit from every angle—from the straps across his chest to the spinal neural signal receivers along his back. Every detail had his attention.

“Turn around,” Lu Yao instructed. He checked the final connection between helmet and suit, then glanced past Zhou Yunchen’s shoulders—only to catch Jiang Wei’s dark glare from the audience seats. The man was staring at the pilot held firmly by Lu Yao, trying to see through the black helmet.

Lu Yao deliberately looked away, leaning behind Zhou Yunchen to whisper, “Chang Jian already reported the test pilots’ accidents to the Federation Intelligence Bureau. Jiang Wei will likely face several new charges. You… stay safe. Even if you lose, it’s fine.”

“How can it be fine?”

“The base is low on funds, but not bankrupt. Even if you lose, Mo Feng can sweet-talk the wealthy investors from the central district. Safety comes first.”

“This is my match too. Do you want people to see Federation General Zhou Yunchen lose to a test pilot?” Zhou Yunchen’s voice came through the helmet. It had the tone of a tease, but the steadiness beneath was unmistakable.

Lu Yao paused, then said, “It’s fine. If they don’t accept it, you retire. I’ll scrap the mecha for metal and support you.”

Author’s note: 

A glimpse into the “selling scrap metal for a living” lifestyle.

 

 

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