Section Seventy-Three: Success

Ye Chong stared in stunned amazement at the two enormous mecha before him.

The one lying on its side had clearly just been completed; Ye Chong could still smell the sharp scent of fresh paint lingering in the air. Many of the support frames and braces on its body hadn’t yet been removed.

Of the two mecha, one was a combination of deep blue and ivory white, the other an interlacing of vivid red and gleaming silver.

Ye Chong’s eyes lit up with excitement. With his discerning gaze, he immediately recognized the extraordinary quality of these mecha. So, there were still people whose mecha technology was not inferior to that of Blackhorn or the Pilots’ Association! He couldn’t help but marvel inwardly—these two were in no way inferior to Johnson’s Blackhorn combat model or the white mecha of the Pilots’ Association!

Mu reminded him, “Hurry up and choose one, you only have a minute to set it up!”

Ye Chong jolted as if waking from a dream. Suppressing his wild delight and unable to spare the time for a thorough inspection, he leaped without hesitation into the cockpit of the blue and white mecha. The red and silver one, with its menacing gun barrel, was clearly a long-range assault model—definitely not suited to him, so he chose the blue and white.

Inside the cockpit, there were even bits of debris on the floor that hadn’t been cleaned away. Ye Chong didn’t care, initiating the setup at top speed! The complexity of the initial configuration startled him for a moment, but then he was overjoyed; the more intricate the setup, the more advanced the mecha. This was a good sign.

With his combat helmet on, Ye Chong focused intently on the barrage of data flooding the display before him, not daring to lose concentration for an instant. He couldn’t afford to—information streamed down the holographic screen like a waterfall, relentlessly. His eyes were pushed to their limits; if he let his attention slip, he might just lose himself in the deluge.

His hands moved at lightning speed across the main console, conjuring a flurry of virtual images.

Meanwhile, Mu picked up a weapon lying next to the mecha Ye Chong had entered—a weapon of strange design.

It looked like an ancient spear, but it was fully fifteen meters long, clearly intended for the mecha. The shaft, the same deep blue as the mecha, flowed like seawater. The head, swollen and massive, was flanked by two crescent-shaped vertical blades, resembling a double-bladed axe from antiquity. The blades curved inward near the tip and opened slightly at the base. Where the blades joined the shaft, a diamond-shaped red crystal was set at the center. The chilling spearhead gleamed with a mysterious luster, as if its colors shifted and changed endlessly. Any artist witnessing this would have been struck speechless by awe.

Mu examined the spearhead closely, clearly fascinated by its design.

Ji Shangyan frowned as he watched the chaos in the hall, sighing inwardly at his elder brother’s reckless pride. The moment the two mecha were completed, his brother had thrown a celebration, dragging everyone over and leaving only two men to guard the base—utter folly!

He had just suggested assigning more guards, but his brother had impatiently waved him away. The subordinates nearby showed nothing on their faces, but with his keen eyes, Ji Shangyan could sense their resentment; they must think he was being inconsiderate.

A few days ago, the men monitoring Old Xu had all been killed. The perpetrator remained at large, and Ji Shangyan had been scolded by the family patriarch because of it. He was certain the culprit was closely connected to Old Xu, but Old Xu himself was a tough nut to crack—both a treasure and a problem, untouchable and unspeakable. Recently, word was that the family’s surveillance of Old Xu had drawn the attention of higher authorities, and the old master had ordered a temporary halt.

Well, there was nothing more he could do. Ji Shangyan smiled bitterly to himself. Looking at these people, all of whom had spent at least three years in this secret base, he could understand their joy at finally succeeding. That was why he only responded with a wry smile to the hostility his untimely suggestion had provoked.

Still, there shouldn’t be any problem. The base’s identity recognition system was top-notch—sneaking in undetected was sheer fantasy. Ji Shangyan couldn’t help but smile at his own paranoia; no one present would ever believe such a thing possible.

The Ji family was famous for its lightbrain technology, far surpassing the other great houses. What’s more, Ji Shangyan knew how much effort the patriarch had poured into this base, its status within the family, and the significance of the project they were now celebrating. As the second son of the Ji family, he felt a deep pride in this accomplishment.

Ha! The four great houses of Farre? Soon, the Ji family would rule them all!

Suddenly, the ground shook. The revelers fell silent, the entire hall hushed in an instant.

An earthquake? The thought flashed through everyone’s mind.

Earthquakes were no longer a threat to human safety—ordinary building materials could withstand them, and this specially-constructed secret base was even stronger.

But the shaking intensified, and seemed to be moving this way. The faint rumble grew louder.

Whatever it was, it was moving fast. In the blink of an eye, the noise was right upon them, the rumble now a deafening roar. The crowd blanched with fear.

Ye Chong, driving his new mecha, crashed through wall after wall, forging a path by brute force rather than following corridors.

He was enamored with this mecha—except for its name: Frost Aria. It sounded bizarre, and more importantly, it was too long and awkward for Ye Chong, who preferred brevity.

He had already installed all of Frost Aria’s weapons. Sitting in the cockpit, he marveled at its performance, but now was not the time to study it in detail. In just forty-five seconds, he completed the initial setup, then spent another ten seconds equipping all the scattered original weapons.

During those fifty-five seconds, Mu searched the most secure underground chamber. In twenty seconds, he pinpointed his target’s location. Another twenty seconds to break into a secure storage room in the corner, and just half a second to pluck out his prize from a heap of objects.

It was an ore, about the size of two fists, with a color that seemed to shift and change, making it impossible to pin down. Without a word, Mu placed the ore in his cockpit.

As soon as Ye Chong finished the setup, Mu requested to return to subspace. Ye Chong had no objection—fighting was up to him now!

His most urgent problem was to locate Frost Aria’s spatial button. Without it, the mecha was incomplete. If he couldn't store it in subspace, escape would only mean endless pursuit by the entire Ji family.

He was not foolish enough to think he could take on the Jis alone.

He had to find Frost Aria’s spatial button—this was his sole focus now.

Within a certain range, the spatial button maintained a unique connection with the mecha. Ye Chong quickly operated the lightbrain, searching for it. Almost instantly, the holographic screen marked a glaring red dot—his target—and a blue dot, his current position.

With the location fixed, Ye Chong sprang into action.

His method was simple: brute force.

A straight line is the shortest distance between two points. Orienting himself, Ye Chong gripped the fifteen-meter blue spear and smashed through every wall in his way—whether alloy or reinforced plastic, they yielded like paper to Frost Aria’s ancient weapon.

Thus, with raw and direct power, Ye Chong rapidly closed the distance to the spatial button.

His unimpeded progress puzzled him—no one was in his way, and despite the widespread destruction, no alarm had sounded. Ye Chong guessed Mu must have sabotaged the alert system, though to what extent, he couldn’t say.

Just one wall remained.

Despite his elation, Ye Chong’s mind was icy calm.

He took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and his hands danced over the console like smoke. Frost Aria surged forward, the blue spear slicing in a flurry of arcs. The last wall shattered, fragments scattering in all directions.

In a flash, Frost Aria broke through.

The crowd, still in celebration, was stunned into silence by the sudden entrance of the colossal machine. They all stared, uncomprehending—wasn’t this Frost Aria? In an instant, realization dawned and panic erupted—screams, shouts, and chaos as people scattered like panicked insects.

Ye Chong ignored them. His target was only the spatial button.

The precise scanning system displayed its location without any margin of error—it was on a man surrounded by four others, a glass of red wine in hand, staring blankly at Ye Chong. The scan swept him again and again, showing every detail, even the fat around his waist. The spatial button was in his left breast pocket.

Ye Chong did not hesitate; the fifteen-meter blue spear swept across, clearing the men around the target.

Frost Aria’s left hand seized the man, lifting him high. With a thud, his wine glass struck the ground as he screamed in terror.

Everyone in the hall stared in horror as the Ji family’s eldest son dangled in mortal peril. No one dared intervene—they didn’t even know how their trusted alarm system had been disabled. Some quick-witted souls ran for help.

The eldest son of the Ji family was now held just three meters from Frost Aria’s cockpit. The hatch slowly opened, all eyes fixed on it, desperate to see who had dared such madness.

A black shadow flashed—no one saw what happened. The cockpit slammed shut, and before anyone could react, their eldest son was tossed aside like a rag doll.

Ye Chong tossed aside the red-and-silver spatial button as well. Though he knew it belonged to the other mecha, it would only expose his position if he kept it—there was no time to go back.

He coveted the red-and-silver mecha too, but it seemed the enemy had already arrived.