Chapter 82: Every Line of His Face

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

Cheers and applause filled the control room, and some even removed their hats and tossed them toward the ceiling. All four matches had concluded, and the room lights came back on. Lu Yao walked out first, stepping into the crowd of spectators and flashing cameras.

Other competitors also began trickling out, their expressions varied. Some cheered for Lu Yao’s name, hoping he would turn back, but having been assaulted by flashes before, he had learned to ignore it, keeping a cold expression as he moved forward.

“Chief Engineer Lu!” Someone slipped in from the side. Lu Yao glanced back and nodded toward the newcomer. “Engineer Qin.”

His opponent from earlier, Qin Lanshan, smiled as he walked toward him. Losing the match didn’t bring joy, of course, but his expression wasn’t forced—there was a hint of regret, yet mostly a sense of ease.

“That last maneuver of yours was brilliant,” Qin said. “Neither I nor my colleagues expected you to switch to manual control.”

“I had no choice.” Though Lu Yao’s rank and military position were far above Qin’s, Qin still maintained a relaxed, approachable demeanor. “We realized you wouldn’t engage the suicide attack system, so we used a risky aggressive tactic to force NTL’s hand.”

Everyone at the institute knew the Chief Engineer’s design style was unusually composed and meticulous for his age, always aiming to minimize unconventional strategies. Among these, the suicide attack mode was the least favored. Some newer members were surprised, seeing Lu Yao’s cold, icy face and expecting a reckless, victory-at-all-costs scientist.

“Currently, the mecha AI’s suicide attack parameters are designed for beasts. In mecha-versus-mecha, they’re generally ineffective,” Lu Yao explained.

“Indeed, AI combat lacks flexibility,” Qin agreed. “The third round introduces pilots. Our institute has the first and third bases entering the semifinals, along with the Huishi Group and Jaeger Industries—two mecha manufacturing giants. It should be far more exciting.”

“Pure ground combat. Some like it, some don’t.”

“I like it,” Qin said. “I plan to sneak a peek, and I’ll need you to save me a ticket, Chief Engineer. By the way, I heard you issued a special invitation to one of the competitors? Was it him?” He pointed toward Verrièr, trailing behind Lu Yao.

After Chief Jiang Wei’s victory, he hadn’t left the control room before being surrounded by fans and media. Verrièr, on the other hand, walked alone. Accustomed to such days, he still struggled to answer the barrage of questions from reporters.

Seeing Lu Yao ahead, Verrièr wanted to approach, but another engineer was already talking to him. He hesitated, unsure what to do. Suddenly, Lu Yao turned toward him. The surrounding noise blurred and faded. Lu Yao’s companion waved him over.

Verrièr immediately dodged the media, sprinting toward Lu Yao and nearly colliding with Qin Lanshan, who steadied him. “You talk to this young man,” Qin said, “I lost this round. I need to take my teammates out for dinner.”

Once Qin departed, and the media tried to swarm again, Lu Yao looked into Verrièr’s wide, watery eyes. After a brief pause, he mimicked Mo Feng’s habit of escorting younger staff, hooking Verrièr by the shoulder and leading him to a quieter area.

“Chief Engineer Lu, I lost,” Verrièr admitted, unable to hide his frustration.

“Did you want to win?” Lu Yao asked.

“Not exactly… I know just reaching this stage is lucky enough. Even if I made it to the final, I couldn’t afford a mecha for the competition,” Verrièr said. “Chief Jiang Wei is exceptional… but why did I lose?”

The reason was simple. “Your design was too complex,” Lu Yao said. “You deployed six A101 units, while Chief Jiang only used one. More units mean heavier computation and a higher chance of errors. Jiang Wei knew how to simplify his model, but you didn’t.

“Moreover, in another area requiring massive data support, you lack experience. Unlike him or me, you don’t have access to a database filled with real-space models. All calculations must be redone from scratch, which is also why you couldn’t simplify your model.”

“Ah…” Verrièr stared blankly. Lu Yao’s words were far from gentle; they were even cold, almost questioning. Yet Verrièr listened intently, finding them more valuable than empty comfort.

“You just need time,” Lu Yao said. “You received the special invitation from the First Base, right?” Verrièr nodded.

“Good. If you’re willing to work at New Blue Star, I hope you accept the invitation. Once you finish your studies, you can start at the base, even for your internship.”

“For the internship?”

“Yes. The base collaborates with various Military Academies, and the stipend and salary here exceed what the academies provide.” Lu Yao noticed Verrièr might be short on funds.

“Alright! Alright!”

Chief Jiang Wei, intending to step forward, retreated into the shadows. He was searching for a quiet place to receive a call from Chairman Fraser, but ran into Lu Yao and Verrièr unexpectedly.

Verrièr was timid, and Lu Yao had never been loud or aggressive. From twenty meters away, their conversation was almost inaudible. Yet Fraser’s furious voice nearly shattered Jiang Wei’s eardrums.

“Yes, Chairman. I am confident I can defeat the next two opponents and win.”

“You ask about Lu Yao? Rest assured, I have confidence. Also, we have the Helios Group…”

“No more,” Fraser’s voice was cold. “Helios may not assist us.”

Jiang Wei’s urgency spiked. “Why? Do they want Lu Yao to win and promote energy-efficient mechas to the Federation? I’ve clearly reported the NTL concept. Helios experts agreed…”

“They don’t want sales to drop, but NTL mechas improve energy efficiency and combat power—they don’t reduce energy procurement. The military just signed a large order with Helios to support the Brave Hawk exercises. They’re happy, so they support us less. That A101 incident was a warning. You must rely on yourself. So, Chief Jiang, tell me honestly—do you have confidence?”

Jiang Wei glanced at Lu Yao in the distance, clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and said, “Of course, rest assured.”

There was a long preparation period between the second and third rounds of the competition. The organizers provided assembly spaces for the mechas, but since the remaining four teams all had their own R&D facilities, each team chose to assemble and test their mechas on their own grounds.

The committee required each team to report their assembly progress once per day. As usual, Lu Yao came with a few young technicians to give the report. Mo Feng followed along, only to be quietly pulled aside by Bai Jiang, the chief supervisor from the Third Base.

“How’s your progress?” Bai Jiang handed Mo Feng a cigarette.

“Oh? Here to spy on military intel, Old Bai?” Mo Feng teased.

“Kid, don’t be silly. What intel are we spying on?” Bai Jiang replied.

Though Bai Jiang was nearly a hundred years old, Mo Feng still managed to banter with him as if they were peers. “How’s this not spying, then?” Mo Feng smirked.

“We’re not rivals this time. Count yourself lucky. First Base and Minghui Group are facing off—finally, our base won’t suffer another internal disaster,” Bai Jiang said. Mo Feng took a drag and made a face. “Your smoke isn’t good. Try mine.”

Bai Jiang took the cigarette from Mo Feng and lit it. Almost immediately, the scent of herbs and mint hit him, filling him with a sudden premonition of disaster. But his reflexes were faster than his intuition. As the smoke went down his throat, Bai Jiang erupted into a violent coughing fit. “Cough! Cough! Damn your mint cigarettes, Mo Feng! How many people have you ruined?”

Mo Feng squinted and grinned. “Not too many. Just a few… even Lu Yao once got choked by it. Our assembly progress is fine. Technically, there’s no particular difficulty—just normal installation.”

When Lu Yao finished his report and walked over, he saw the smoke swirling around the two of them. Before he even entered the cloud, the familiar scent of mint made his face go pale. He froze in place and instinctively reached out to stop the technicians behind him from moving forward. He looked at Mo Feng and said, word by word, “Refuse secondhand smoke. Start with you.”

“Hey, this isn’t secondhand smoke. It’s secondhand mint candy,” Mo Feng replied, but he waved away the lingering mint smoke and bid Bai Jiang goodbye before leaving with Lu Yao.

It was already time to leave work. Lu Yao didn’t have the technicians return to the base. Mo Feng pulled him along, claiming they were going to have a proper meal. Now that Lu Yao was willing to eat regular food, Mo Feng was eager to feed him all the delicacies he and Chang Jian had explored over the years. Because of this, Cheng Cheng hadn’t seen Mo Feng for an entire week.

The flight craft headed toward the city. Lu Yao sat in the co-pilot seat, quietly reviewing the NTL assembly schedule and progress. Suddenly, a video call request from Zhou Yunchen popped up on the screen. Wait—wasn’t he still in the middle of the second-round exercises? Why was he contacting him now? Lu Yao clicked to answer, puzzled.

A dark space appeared on the screen, accompanied by the sound of labored, scorched breathing. The environment on the other side was so dark that Lu Yao could barely discern Zhou Yunchen’s position. Only a faint glow from the screen illuminated the corner of his face and his disheveled, reflective hair.

“Zhou Yunchen?” Lu Yao frowned. The image shook slightly, revealing a small patch of metallic wall.

“What happened?” Mo Feng asked.

“I don’t…” Lu Yao began, but before he could finish, and almost immediately as Mo Feng spoke, Zhou Yunchen abruptly ended the call. “…understand.” Lu Yao recognized Zhou Yunchen’s brow bone, cheekbones, and jawline, and even every pattern and texture of the metal inside the Distant Star cockpit.

 

 

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