After the appearance of a 100-point genius, a heavy atmosphere settled over the entire testing grounds.
Chu Li remained unaffected, deeply immersed in his constructed virtual world. During his wait, a few more high scores appeared, causing the candidates in the waiting area to wail in despair, lamenting that this year felt like “hell mode”—that even a minor mecha pilot position had become this competitive.
About ten minutes later, Chu Li heard the trainee officer call his name.
“Group D, Chu Li.”
“Present.”
“Take your position.”
Chu Li put on the headset and sat in the testing mecha. The control panel before him was simple, and the conduction plates were old—a stark contrast to Poy—but he didn’t dare relax.
The trainee officer’s voice came through the headset.
【Candidate, can you hear me?】
“I can hear you.”
【Good. Next, please perform mechanical operations according to my instructions. After the mechanical operations are finished, we will proceed with the empathy test.】
“Understood.”
【Power on.】
Chu Li hit the power button. The mecha immediately entered a combat-ready state. The engine emitted a series of low hums; the fuselage material was of poor quality and lacked soundproofing, allowing the engine’s vibrations to be felt even inside the cockpit.
【Raise right arm.】
While tilting the joystick, Chu Li pressed a button, and the mecha slowly raised its right arm. After two warm-up movements, the trainee officer got down to business.
【Takeoff, 100 meters.】
Chu Li leaned back slightly and lifted the joystick. In the next instant, the mecha soared into the sky. A row of five mechas flew up, maintaining a distance of 100 meters from the ground.
【Please fly three laps around the training field in sequence.】
Chu Li was third in the row of five. He followed the second mecha, performing several aerial maneuvers as instructed by the officer. His execution was flawless.
Just as Lu Jin had said, it wasn’t difficult; the test primarily assessed the pilot’s agility and reflexes. Once the mechanical operations were over, it was time for the empathy test.
Before starting, an electronic agreement appeared on the display screen. He scrolled through the terms; the general gist was that the mecha department was exempt from liability, and the pilot would be responsible for any issues arising during perception-based control.
He signed his name and, following instructions, attached the conduction plates to various parts of his body.
【Try moving your left arm, right arm, left leg, and right leg in sequence.】
He finished the preliminary warm-up. Next, similar to the mechanical operations, he had to fly into the sky, circle the field, and perform various high-difficulty maneuvers.
He thought it would end as smoothly as the mechanical test, but during the third lap, the pilot of the fifth mecha mismanaged their controls. The mecha suddenly surged forward, colliding with the fourth mecha, which was then thrust into Chu Li by the force of the impact.
Chu Li instinctively pulled the joystick, raising his mecha to avoid the collision. At that moment, a warning beeped on his display, informing him that he would lose 10 points if he didn’t return to the established orbit within one minute.
However, his orbital position was occupied by the mechas behind him. Those two mechas were somehow jammed together, unable to separate, flying in mid-air like conjoined twins.
Chu Li signaled the fourth pilot to retreat, but there was no response. He lowered his flight altitude to fly parallel to the other pilot and noticed the man’s face through the glass canopy. He was pale and drenched in sweat; several conduction plates on his head had fallen off, and he appeared to be in intense pain.
The rear of the man’s mecha had a dent from the collision right where the cockpit was located; it was likely that his tailbone had been injured, rendering him unable to move.
Seeing this, Chu Li contacted the trainee officer to report the situation while gesturing to the fourth pilot.
The man, enduring the pain, caught the gestures and vaguely understood. Because his conduction plates had fallen off, his nerves were damaged, and his limbs were paralyzed. He used his head to strike the button inside the cockpit, and the cockpit immediately reclined, causing the mecha to adopt a horizontal posture.
He then rotated the cockpit, repeatedly using a protruding point on the top of the seat to strike the “stop flight” button on the control panel. In the process, he accidentally hit other buttons, causing the mecha to perform various strange maneuvers in mid-air.
In the waiting area, the candidates couldn’t help but mutter.
“What is the third pilot gesturing at?”
“No idea. Isn’t the third pilot that Beta?” The speaker’s voice carried a hint of disdain.
Then, someone in the crowd said, “That Beta from the Lower District just got a perfect score on the mechanical operation.” If nothing had gone wrong with the empathy link, it looked like he would have gotten a perfect score there, too.
The group of Alphas suddenly went quiet.
The display screen flashed, warning of the impending point deduction. Chu Li immediately jerked the joystick and returned to the established orbit. Under the officer’s guidance, the first and second mechas had sped up, clearing the space.
After several attempts, the fourth pilot successfully hit the stop button, and the mecha began a slow descent at a 45-degree angle.
Medical staff were already waiting and rushed toward the two collided mechas to carry the injured pilots away.
Meanwhile, Chu Li finished the laps alongside the first and second pilots. As he stepped out of the mecha, he saw the fourth pilot lying on a stretcher, face covered in blood, one arm twitching as if from a neurological issue. The fifth pilot seemed relatively unharmed.
The robot began broadcasting the total scores for the five candidates.
The first and second scores were 94 and 88, respectively.
Chu Li: 96 points.
The fourth and fifth scores were 67 and 59.
The first and second pilots seemed dissatisfied and approached the officer’s stand to ask for an explanation. The lead officer, wearing a headset, explained: “Empathy isn’t just about the completion of movements; it’s also about stability and compatibility.”
In other words, aside from being forced out of his orbit by the accident, Chu Li’s empathy with the mecha was nearly perfect.
Their faces flushed red, and they quickly left.
Chu Li didn’t leave the grounds; he stayed until the final rankings were announced.
The exam resulted in two 100s, three 98s, and seven 96s. Chu Li’s score ranked him 11th overall, successfully securing his qualification as a mecha pilot.
He opened his optical computer and immediately sent his score to Lu Jin.
Lu Jin was watching the live video Fu Lin had forwarded. He happened to see the moment the fifth mecha “rear-ended” the others, and his gaze froze. His expression only softened when he saw Chu Li regain his position.
He hit the pause button. The screen froze on a scene of Chu Li’s mecha about to descend. Inside the glass canopy, strands of Chu Li’s hair hung over his forehead, sticking to his fine skin. His dark eyes were fixed forward, projecting an air of intense focus and determination.
His message bar flickered. Thinking it was another long-winded reminder from the doctor, he opened it to find it was from Chu Li.
[Admiral, I got 96 points.]
“96 points…” Lu Jin murmured, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
A decent score.
Soon, another message arrived.
[Thank you for your help, Admiral. When you have time, I’d like to treat you to a meal.]
[Understood.]
That evening, just as darkness fell, the nanny Ellie sent Chu Li back in a spaceship.
He seemed to be in a good mood, so much so that he didn’t even notice that the painkillers had long since worn off.
At the dinner table, he told Lu Jin about the competition. Lu Jin pretended he hadn’t seen the video and listened intently without saying a word.
Finally, Chu Li asked, “Admiral, what kind of food do you like?” He didn’t know how else to thank Lu Jin; given the man’s status, he likely lacked for nothing, so after thinking it over, he felt a meal was the most appropriate gesture.
“Anything is fine,” Lu Jin said. In the interstellar era, nutritional supplements were prevalent, and after long periods of fighting in the Northern District deserts, his culinary desires weren’t strong.
Chu Li smiled. “Okay.”
They fell silent and finished their meal. After a while, Chu Li looked up. “Admiral, Evans and the others have returned to Mindo City now. Is there any news regarding the Star Pirate group?”
“Not yet.” Seeing the disappointment on Chu Li’s face, Lu Jin added, “They will act again. It’s only a matter of time before we catch them.”
Despite those words, every day the Star Pirates remained at large was another day of danger for the Lower District. Chu Li lost his appetite and set down his cutlery. “They’re already so wealthy,” he murmured in confusion. “Why do they still do things like this?”
Lu Jin didn’t give him an answer. Silence settled over the table. Seeing the change in mood, Ellie stepped forward to refill their juice.
Chu Li couldn’t drink it. Once the excitement faded, he felt the physical toll—his tailbone was numb, his body was aching, and his limbs felt as heavy as lead.
He still planned to return to the Lower District that night. Lu Jin suggested he stay at Nebula to recover, but Chu Li shook his head and refused.
Lu Jin pursed his lips and said nothing, leaning back in his chair. The moonlight spilling onto the floor made the tiles look cold and white.
When Chu Li packed his things to leave, he borrowed a few books on mechas from Lu Jin, specifically taking How to Pilot a Mecha While Ill. When he asked about Poy, Lu Jin remarked indifferently that it was just “scrap metal” and the nanny would dispose of it.
Walking out the door, Chu Li saw the pile of “scrap metal.” He stopped in his tracks.
The energy core had been tossed aside. He picked it up, his fingers brushing against the curved “L” mark on the energy block. After a moment of hesitation, he took it with him.
He couldn’t bear to see it thrown away.
Ellie drove him back to the Lower District. Fearing he would be in pain, she arranged a wheelchair for him. As he sat in it, he mentally planned his next steps.
A dislocated tailbone would take time to heal, and the mecha department would start classes in a month—perfect timing to recover at home. During his recovery, he would read these books and then go work for Old Man Zhong to save up for his tuition.
Ellie glanced at him from time to time. Noticing this, he asked, “Ellie, is something wrong?”
Ellie couldn’t help but ask, “Mr. Chu, why aren’t you staying at Nebula to recover?”
“Nebula isn’t my home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable staying there,” Chu Li replied, using it as an excuse.
There were many things that wouldn’t be convenient to do at Nebula.
Ellie seemed surprised by the answer and stood there stunned.
By the time they reached the Lower District, it was late at night. The sky was pitch black with no stars, and the air smelled of gunpowder, as if a fierce battle had just taken place.
The ship stopped at Chu Li’s door. Ellie didn’t leave until she saw him safely inside.
Upon returning to Nebula, Ellie reported to Lu Jin, recounting her conversation with Chu Li word for word.
After hearing it, Lu Jin’s expression was unreadable. He gestured for Ellie to leave.
Nebula isn’t his home? He wouldn’t feel comfortable?
Lu Jin rubbed his brow and leaned back into his chair, his silhouette merging with the boundless night behind him.