Chapter Fifty

This was a pair of astonishingly swift hands; Hack could never have imagined that someone not from Black Corner would possess such remarkable speed. The hands are the most agile part of the human body, capable of performing the greatest variety of tasks. The faster the hands, the more can be accomplished within a set time, and the implications of this need no explanation. In a life-or-death moment, survival can hinge upon a single action or a fraction of a second. Such exceptional dexterity was exceedingly rare, even within Black Corner itself!

Yet Mu seemed not fully aware of the true power of these hands.

Hack gazed at Ye Chong, who stood quietly to the side, and nodded. "Not bad—really, quite impressive."

Ye Chong remained silent, offering no reply.

Hack appeared to be deep in thought; only after a long pause did he speak again. "Tell me, what is your understanding of a Mechist?"

Ye Chong tilted his head, contemplated for a moment, then answered, "A mech operator."

Hack nodded, "That's what most people would assume as well." Ye Chong looked up at him, slightly surprised.

"There’s a lot people don’t know," Hack said softly, his tone carrying an indescribable nostalgia. "A Mechist isn’t what you all imagine. The definitions out there, the so-called tests, are meaningless—child’s play. The true world of Mechists is far beyond your understanding, and outsiders have no inkling of its reality. Do you know what a Mechist was before?"

Ye Chong shook his head.

"Mechists originated from those who pursued power. With the rise of mechanical civilization, humanity discovered the might of machines. The old secret arts and ancient martial disciplines quickly faded, replaced by the ascent of the Mechists. Later, people found that if ancient martial artists or secret arts practitioners piloted mechs, they could unleash even greater power and survive harsher environments. Eventually, someone thought to merge ancient martial arts and secret arts with mechs, giving birth to a new kind of Mechist. Unarmed, they were no match for pure martial artists or secret practitioners, but once they piloted mechs, their strength was astonishing. Around five centuries ago, there was a great catastrophe—unprecedented in scale. Many perished, and those who survived were mostly Mechists, leading directly to the destruction of other powers. Then, three hundred years ago, further events unfolded, and Mechists spread to the outer starfields, becoming known to outsiders. But what they received was outdated knowledge at best. As for what truly happened, I do not know." Hack continued, "Convincing people from your Five Starfields what ancient martial arts and secret arts are is no easy task."

Ye Chong’s heart surged with waves of emotion! He had never expected such hidden history. From Hack’s words, he gleaned that Hack was not from the Five Starfields, but from another mysterious, unknown place, and that there was a subtle connection between that place and the Five Starfields.

"The three most important factors for a Mechist are the body, the mech, and the spirit. This led to the emergence of three major schools. One combines ancient martial arts and technology, focusing on tempering the body. Another fuses secret arts with technology, typically resulting in Mechists with powerful minds. The third is the purely mechanical route. To be honest, it’s my least favorite—they modify their bodies so much that they’re neither human nor ghost. But their strength is undeniable, and their mechs are the most advanced among the three schools." Though Hack’s distaste for the third school was obvious, he could not deny their prowess.

Ye Chong listened, thoroughly engrossed.

"You’ve probably guessed it: we belong to the first school. The development of the human body through ancient martial arts is truly astonishing—deep and profound. But we only adopt that aspect. I’m not sure how you train; I sense no energy fluctuations from you, yet your muscular strength is extraordinary, and your muscle fibers haven’t thickened as with most people. It puzzles me." Clearly, Hack had no intention of delving into the matter further. "All right, come with me."

Hack led Ye Chong into a vast hall. Inside stood many egg-shaped devices with transparent shells, each filled with a viscous silver liquid. Many had people immersed within, eyes closed, faces serene, as if in deep enjoyment.

Pointing to an empty pod, Hack said, "Get in and try it." Somewhat skeptical, Ye Chong approached the pod. With a soft swish, an entrance opened wide enough for him to enter. Once inside, the pod closed with another gentle hiss. The silver liquid welled up from below, rising past his knees, his waist, his chest, and finally stopping just below his neck.

A gentle languor washed over Ye Chong, warmth suffusing his body, so comfortable he nearly sighed aloud. Gradually, a drowsiness crept over him, yet he remained somehow alert—suspended between wakefulness and sleep.

He had no idea how long had passed when he suddenly felt fully awake, noticing Hack watching him intently from outside, his thoughts unreadable behind his black mask. The silver liquid receded like a tide, and in moments, the pod was completely empty. To Ye Chong’s amazement, not a drop of silver remained on his body, and his clothes were as pristine as when he’d entered.

Hack watched Ye Chong emerge. "How do you feel?"

Ye Chong nodded. "Excellent—truly excellent!"

A strange look flickered in Hack’s eyes. "You feel brimming with strength, don’t you? As if you need to let it out somehow?"

Ye Chong had felt an intense heat throughout his body when the silver liquid withdrew, as though energy surged within him. Now, with Hack’s prompt, the urge to vent that energy grew even stronger. He nodded again.

Hack led him to a spacious training ground filled with all kinds of equipment. "Here, expend all your strength, then return to the pod and soak until you naturally awaken. Repeat this process three times. All right, train as you wish." With that, Hack left.

Ye Chong followed Hack’s instructions, depleting his energy completely each time before dragging himself back into the pod to recover. Inside, he could almost sense his strength gathering anew—an extraordinary feeling.

After each replenishment, he returned to the training ground to exhaust himself again. After three cycles, Ye Chong found that his strength recovered much faster in the pod, and afterward he no longer felt overheated but returned to normal.

By the time he finished the third round, evening was falling. He’d not eaten all day, but felt no hunger—perhaps, he guessed, due to the effects of the silver liquid.

He gathered some steel pellets from the training ground, slipping them into his pocket as he walked back to his quarters. On the way, he encountered Johnson. Neither spoke; they simply nodded in passing and continued on their separate ways.