Anatoly arrived early at the holographic training room. As he clicked on the console to check the task status, his optical brain chimed with a message notification.
Sullivan: Strange, do you know what Iman said?
Anatoly: What?
Sullivan: That Beta who performed exceptionally well this morning, his mental power is only D-rank.
The silver haired Alpha lingered over that letter for a few seconds before replying: Certain?
Sullivan: Unless he can fool the AI.
Bo Tang is a D-rank Beta?
Anatoly intuitively rejected this conclusion.
For some reason, Anatoly suddenly recalled the scene of first meeting Bo Tang in the dormitory. Even when someone with a vastly superior grade does not consciously release their mental power, those around them can still sense it. Yet that day, the black haired Beta had acted completely at ease, showing no discomfort whatsoever from the suppression of his rank.
He was so at ease it was almost… audacious.
Suddenly, a flash of fair, delicate skin at the back of a neck crossed his mind. Anatoly’s fingers twitched, almost clicking on the wrong mission icon. He lowered his eyes.
Anatoly: The documents sent to me by the military show that he is the survivor of a kidnapping case, yet no civil records of him could be found.
Sullivan: Right.
Anatoly: But the welfare department didn’t test his mental power grade when issuing his replacement ID chip.
Seeing the message from the other side, Sullivan paused slightly.
Sullivan: You mean…
Anatoly replied deliberately. Remember Article 64 of the Testing Office’s Personal Rights Ordinance? When a party is in a state of shock or psychological confusion, no organ may conduct brain wave probing on them to prevent secondary trauma.
Sullivan: You suspect Bo Tang took advantage of this loophole, deliberately claiming amnesia to avoid the initial mental power test, and found a way to trick the testing equipment during that time? …Surely not. If the Federation really developed such high-tech, would they need to use spies for underhanded work?
Anatoly: Just a guess.
Sullivan: Judging by your tone, you’ve already figured out how to test him?
Anatoly frowned and thought for a moment: Help me connect into Bo Tang’s combat system later.
Sullivan raised an eyebrow looking at the message. Was his nephew planning to use a cannon to kill a mosquito?
Sullivan: Go easy on him. Your stepfather is just looking for an excuse to smear you before the court trial. If you beat a Beta into a vegetative state during military training, you’re bound to lose the trial. Elon is still waiting for you to go back.
He paused, weighing his words before sending another line, And your health…
Anatoly: I know what I’m doing.
Inside the testing room, the silver haired Alpha reached his fingers into the collar of his shirt, tapping a few times on the metal ring around his neck to adjust the restriction level to its maximum.
The mental domain, which had been battered by howling winds and torrential rain since childhood, instantly perceived a heavy pressure. This pressure didn’t dispel the storm, rather, it pitted itself against the chaotic force to achieve a reluctant equilibrium. The sea of mental power occasionally rippled, but fierce undercurrents still churned beneath the surface.
Anatoly swayed for a moment, closed his eyes to steady himself for a minute, and quietly let out a breath.
While Iman was tapping away frantically at his optical brain, racking his brain over how to write his report, the students of Medical Class A arrived one after another.
DEVI’s projection screen remained open. With only Iman and Bo Tang present in the room, it was obvious whose mental power rank the glaring “D-rank” belonged to.
Unaware of Bo Tang’s morning activities, the Alphas casting glances his way instantly grew much more condescending. Even among Betas, a D-rank was below average. C-rank mental power was the minimum standard for military recruitment, entering the military with anything less usually meant spending a lifetime as a menial logistics soldier.
Yet Bo Tang didn’t even have a C-rank.
“You don’t even qualify to pour tea and water in the military,” Wick directly mocked, as others still maintained some semblance of restraint.
Bo Tang acted as though he heard nothing.
Wick’s arrogance flared. “What, lost that morning spirit now?”
“Is that so? I was just thinking that perhaps someone with an average grade of only 9.5 can truly only aspire to goals like pouring tea and serving water,” Bo Tang replied with a smile.
Wick: “You!”
Simon shot Wick a disapproving look. “Wick, this isn’t the Fryman estate. Put away your arrogance.”
“Me, arrogant?” Wick gritted his teeth. “I’m just driving away a beggar trying to sneak into a banquet! What does he have besides a face? A humble Beta carrying base blood, who even got his admission to Beda by sucking the blood of social welfare…”
“Enough,” Iman suddenly barked coldly. “Wick Fryman, am I to assume you are implying that the Beta population is social parasites?”
Wick only then remembered their instructor was a Beta, his face turning pale. “Sorry, I didn’t mean,”
“Watch your words,” Iman warned with a glare.
Wick shut his mouth, though the bulging veins on his fists and the lingering cruelty in his eyes revealed intense resentment.
“Everyone go find the mecha recommended by DEVI and connect to the combat system,” Iman said sternly, his mood clearly sour.
The Alphas exchanged glances and quietly dispersed.
Bo Tang smiled at Simon. “Thank you.”
Simon waved a hand. “It’s nothing, I just…” He frowned. “Before that incident, Wick wasn’t like this. These past few years he’s become increasingly extreme, sometimes even frightening.”
That underlying trace of madness always gave Simon a creepy feeling.
“Maybe it’s just my imagination.” Simon quickly brushed it aside and climbed into his mecha. “Hope you get a good score.”
“Mm.” Bo Tang smiled.
He walked toward his own mecha.
The ECTS23 model mecha was pitch black, its bright silver pipelines dull and muted when unactivated.
As Bo Tang approached, indicator lights suddenly flickered on both sides of its lowered head. The sleeping giant moved its limbs with a nimbleness that defied its size, though it looked humanoid, it was actually performing pre-heating and lubrication of the body bearings.
Next, the giant extended its right hand, flattening it out on the ground: “Please.”
At least it doesn’t make the pilot climb into the cockpit like a gecko, Bo Tang thought as he stepped onto the palm.
The ECTS23 lifted Bo Tang into the cockpit, where safety belt like devices automatically wrapped around his waist, abdomen, and thighs. Once the cockpit hatch closed, the lights went out, leaving only blinking indicator lights inside.
Hello, pilot. I am the auxiliary AI equipped on ECTS23. You may call me ‘Swift’.
“Hello,” Bo Tang greeted.
Detected that your mental power rank is D-rank. Please complete a few tests in order so I can adjust you to the appropriate combat mode.
A holographic screen resembling a beginner’s tutorial in a game unfolded before Bo Tang’s eyes, demonstrating various combat moves in sequence.
He clicked on the mental power synchronization option.
In an instant, a torrent of mental power slammed into him like a real tide, driving him back against his seat as countless pieces of information transmitted into his brain domain through ethereal spiritual channels.
Amidst the clamor of the information flow, Bo Tang finally understood what Simon meant when he said the “body naturally perceives the mecha as a second layer of exoskeleton.”
The moment the data transmission completed, Bo Tang exhaled a breath, and a strange sensation enveloped his entire body. It was as if sturdy new branches had sprouted from his joints. He could sense that while his actual movements hadn’t changed, every punch and every swing now carried an enhanced level of power.
Bo Tang finally felt the realistic sensation of having transmigrated into a new world.
Pilot, a 0.01-second fluctuation in your mental power was detected. Are you dissatisfied with the test contents?
“Just call me Bo Tang,” Bo Tang said lightly. “We can begin.”
Understood.
Bo Tang’s vision was somewhat fragmented now, his naked eyes could see the equipment inside the cockpit, but if he let his thoughts wander slightly, he could see the outside world through the mecha’s external view lenses rather than being restricted to a 200-degree screen.
In the external view, other mechas were already warming up. Most of them moved quite fluidly, showing at a glance that this wasn’t their first time operating one.
Following the “beginner’s tutorial,” Bo Tang began executing sequences of arm raising, sword wielding, blocking, whip kicking, and in place spinning blocks. Initially unfamiliar with the mecha fusion feeling, his movements were a bit sluggish, but they gradually grew smoother until the individual test moves strung together into a seamless combo.
Fortunately, each student performed the testing phase on a fixed turntable beneath their feet, otherwise Bo Tang might have severely injured a teammate with a stray kick.
After another 180-degree whip kick followed by a left hook and a body slam, Iman took the lead in sending a private message. Very well done.
Although it’s a D-rank, your detailed control of mental power is exceptionally good.
Iman thought with a mixture of regret and relief. It’s just a pity he’s only a D-rank.
Swift cooperated by playing an applauding sound effect: Congratulations, Bo Tang. You have completed the test perfectly, and I have generated your exclusive combat mode.
Having finished his set of broadcasting gymnastics, Bo Tang stopped appropriately and intentionally regulated his breathing to appear slightly breathless. “Thank you for the praise, but I’m a little tired.”
Swift said sympathetically. “Considering your rank, that is normal.”
Swift connected to the team channel and helped Bo Tang broadcast. No. 36 has finished warming up.
Iman switched to the team channel: Everyone is warmed up. Prepare to access the first combat class.
Bo Tang clicked the “Start Class” button on the screen, and his field of vision shifted into the vast expanse of space.
Swift explained. Current rules. Earn points by destroying starships (Enemy mecha: 10 pts/each, destroyer: 20 pts/ship, frigate: 30 pts/ship, supply ship: 60 pts/ship, mothership: 100 pts/ship).
Note: Every ship is equipped with weaponry. Points will be deducted discretionarily if you take damage. Reaching -30 points will automatically result in forfeiture.
Current task: Earn 1000 points within 2 hours (0/1000).
Begin?
Bo Tang’s gaze lingered on the options on the screen.
Meanwhile, inside the combat department training room.
Stepping onto a pure white mecha, Anatoly gazed straight ahead and gave a deep command. “Snow Owl, connect me to the enemy system of No. 36 in Medical Class A.”
Detected a wide gap between your current rank and your last login rank. Confirm connection?
“Confirm.”
Question for Follow-up. What strategy do you think Bo Tang will use to tackle the 1000 points starship mission given his D-rank status?