Chapter Sixty-eight: Escape

Ye Chong swiftly withdrew! If he did not leave now, when would he? Though not worldly wise, Ye Chong was no fool. Hmph, if he managed to destroy that white mech, he would be left alone, and surely no match for Johansen! Recalling everything that had happened in Blackhorn, Ye Chong could sense danger lurking everywhere, and even Mu had warned him that Johansen was likely ill-intentioned towards him. There was no reason for Ye Chong to seek trouble.

If only he had a decent mech… Hmph! Ye Chong could not help but feel disheartened.

Strike Johansen while he had the chance? The thought never crossed Ye Chong’s mind. Judging by Johansen’s tone earlier, he was almost certainly planning to take Ye Chong back to Blackhorn, not kill him outright. But if only the white mech remained, Ye Chong’s life would surely be forfeit!

Ye Chong retreated at the very instant Johansen shouted for action. By the time Johansen realized what was happening, he was startled, then furious. He had just cried out, “You—” but Ye Chong was already lunging toward the white mech. Seeing the white mech aim its gun at him, Johansen could no longer pay Ye Chong any heed.

Ye Chong might not know what the strange-looking gun in the white mech’s hand was, but Johansen certainly did. When he had acquired a combat mech, he had begun studying the data on their eternal foes, the Mech Pilots’ Guild.

The white mech before him was the standard model used by the Guild’s elites, bearing the elegant name—Whitecore.

And that gun—this was the true standard weapon of the Guild’s elite pilots—the Markwing-5. Its immaculate body, formed by two semi-circular arcs, gleamed with an ivory sheen, making it look more like a work of art than a deadly instrument.

With a caliber of twenty centimeters, it might seem insignificant for a ten-meter-tall mech, but if it fired a nano-magnetic wave, the situation changed entirely. According to Tomis’s law, a twenty-centimeter nano-magnetic wave could easily demolish a fifty-story building. The Guild surely would not allow any waste, so the power of this nano-magnetic gun was self-evident.

Johansen let out a cold snort, entirely unpanicked. Their factions were mortal enemies—without some means, Blackhorn would have collapsed long ago. With his deep understanding of Blackhorn’s strength, Johansen never believed it would one day be destroyed. The fact that the Guild had been able to contend with Blackhorn for so many years was hard for him to accept.

The shield on Johansen’s left arm swept across his chest. With a faint sound, a strange light burst forth from the unremarkable black shield, and a transparent ion layer, like a gently concave gigantic shield, enveloped Johansen’s Starflare.

Johansen moved continuously, though his hand speed was markedly slower than Ye Chong’s, Starflare’s performance vastly outstripped the f-58. Thus, Johansen’s piloting of Starflare was far superior to Ye Chong’s handling of the f-58.

Still, Johansen was not foolish enough to believe this would let him evade his opponent. According to Whitecore’s specs, its top-tier locking capabilities compensated for its pilots’ lack of skill. Its automatic and semi-automatic targeting features halved the time needed for control, with only negligible loss in accuracy.

A blazing violet beam suddenly flashed—unsurprisingly, the nano-magnetic wave struck Starflare’s ion shield. The transparent shield rippled, then quickly stabilized. Johansen, attentive as ever, noticed a distinct drop in his energy display, and was a little alarmed. Fortunately, the Markwing-5 also consumed significant energy, if the data was accurate.

Knowing evasion was nearly impossible, Johansen pressed forward behind his ion shield, closing in on Whitecore. Once he got close, Johansen was confident he had numerous ways to kill his foe in a single blow.

This was the classic combat between Blackhorn and the Guild: Blackhorn pilots, with their powerful bodies, could endure the immense strain of complex maneuvers, and their dexterous hands enabled them to execute such actions—a hallmark of Blackhorn’s style. Meanwhile, the Guild’s superiority in mech technology allowed their pilots to rely on higher-performance, more automated mechs, using technological advances to compensate for their physical shortcomings—a quintessential Guild approach.

Blackhorn’s pilots, expert in melee, could unleash power far beyond ordinary people in close combat, and they favored this style. Although Blackhorn’s mech tech lagged behind the Guild’s, it was still far ahead of most civilian models. With formidable pilots and first-rate mechs, plus a host of exotic weapons, Blackhorn’s fighting style was unique.

If Blackhorn’s mechs led the field, then the Guild’s tech was the pinnacle. The most advanced neural cores, engines, materials, and design philosophies produced the most advanced mechs. With intelligent systems, pilots could make optimal choices in the shortest time. The Guild’s ranged weaponry was equally sophisticated, varied, and incredibly powerful, shaping their tactics: high-speed mobility, paired with precise, heavy firepower.

Yet, this time Whitecore was in dire straits. Johansen had lain in wait near the street where Whitecore appeared, and with preparation and advantage, victory seemed assured. However, Johansen’s slight hesitation when he noticed Ye Chong escaping gave Whitecore a narrow chance to flee.

Ye Chong dared not look back now. His mech was at maximum speed, darting left and right. Although he knew the two must be fighting, Ye Chong still used the terrain to shield himself as much as possible. With the white mech no longer haunting him, the police mechs’ encirclement was rendered useless, no threat to Ye Chong at all. A few deft maneuvers and he slipped free.

Ye Chong walked at a steady pace—the black mech was too conspicuous. Who knew if the white mech had companions? As for his appearance, only Johansen knew it, but Johansen was surely locked in battle with the mech now. Ye Chong felt a small surge of pride.

Thinking of Johansen’s mech, Ye Chong couldn’t help envying it. He sighed to Mu, “Ah, Mu, if only I had a mech like that!”

Mu replied coolly, “According to the data, the probability is less than ten percent.”

Ye Chong exclaimed, “No way, Mu, you can calculate that?”

Mu answered calmly, “Using the latest Austin mathematical model combined with multi-conditional fuzzy theory, it provides a way to calculate the probability.”

Ye Chong scratched his head, “Ah, Mu, you’re as devoid of sentiment as ever!”

Mu countered, “According to the data, ‘sentiment’ is the property of something that can evoke differing feelings in people. Clearly, you do not possess this property.”

Ye Chong cried inwardly, “What? Mu, are you saying I have no sentiment?”

Mu replied unhurriedly, “Your understanding is entirely correct.”

“You—”

Suddenly, Ye Chong seemed to hear someone calling his name from behind him.