The moment the first shot rang out, Yan Xun charged forward.
As the ammunition left the mecha’s bay, the massive recoil sent the entire machine stumbling backward several steps, nearly causing it to lose its balance and fall.
Fu Siheng’s expression darkened. With the safety factor so low, the mecha was about to lose its sense of direction. If the bullets swept across the neighboring mecha, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Based on the distance between each target and the shooter’s distance from the targets, a slight deviation in the mecha’s aim wouldn’t have mattered.
But this mecha wasn’t just off by a little. Its entire body had swung directly toward the mecha to its right, causing the other machine to freeze in its tracks.
Due to its lightweight design, the “Night Walker” had armor that was slightly weaker than Level 1 Protective Armor. This raised the question: “If I use my spear to pierce my own shield, will the spear break first, or will the shield shatter?” The bullets wouldn’t penetrate the armor, but superficial scratches were inevitable.
That wasn’t even the worst part. The real danger was that once this type of mecha lost control, it would activate its Protection Squeeze Device within ten minutes. If the pilot wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, the automatic device wouldn’t be able to identify its target and would likely crush the pilot into a meat patty.
Yan Xun had emphasized the rules multiple times before the training began, and the staff responsible for escorting the mecha had also interspersed their instructions with explanations about its dangers. Yet, it seemed someone had still turned a deaf ear.
The mecha stumbled a few steps, swaying drunkenly. The people nearby immediately sensed something was wrong, and all backed away.
Yan Xun ran toward it, lightly braced his right hand against its knee joint, and launched himself into the air. The mecha’s leg was at least two meters off the ground, yet he leaped up effortlessly without any climbing gear.
Just as he was about to reach the cockpit, the mecha suddenly convulsed. It seemed the pilot inside had pressed something in panic and began wildly firing at the targets!
Yan Xun lost his balance and began to fall sideways. He cursed under his breath and shot out his right hand like lightning, grabbing the mecha’s shoulder, which was now scorching hot from the engine. He swayed twice in mid-air before steadying himself.
The arena descended into chaos as everyone scrambled toward the safe zones.
Yi Fengbei grabbed a megaphone from a nearby instructor and roared, “Evacuate all mecha from the field immediately! All personnel, clear the area! Axun, get back here now!”
Every shot fired only increased the mecha’s instability, and it began to go berserk, bombarding the entire training ground. The instructors shouted orders as they ran.
A bullet grazed the ceiling light, sending the massive chandelier swaying.
Just as Yi Fengbei was shouting at Yan Xun, a figure sprinted past him.
“Xiao Heng!” Shi Yuanyang exclaimed in surprise.
Fu Siheng leaped from the ground, his movements almost perfectly synchronized with Yan Xun’s as he scaled the other side of the mecha’s knee in a few swift steps.
He had always boarded mechas in a proper, standard manner, but his climbing was now remarkably agile and decisive, as if he had practiced this countless times before.
The recoil from each shot sent the mecha jolting violently in all directions. They not only had to keep their balance to avoid falling off but also had to dodge the debris hurtling toward them.
The engine beneath Yan Xun’s hand had already exceeded 70 degrees Celsius. He hissed in pain, just about to let go and find another handhold, when a familiar long whip lashed out toward his face.
Yes, it was lashed at him.
His eyes widened, and he reacted instantly, jerking his head to the side. The whip struck the mecha’s armor with a loud crack.
He had missed by a mere 0.01 seconds. Otherwise, the whip would have landed squarely on the high, elegant bridge of his nose.
Yan Xun glared across at the other side, gritting his teeth. Sure enough, Fu Siheng was gripping the edge of the mecha, his expression completely impassive as he said, “Grab on.”
To keep his hand from being roasted by the engine or thrown off the mecha to be crushed to death, Yan Xun had no choice but to swallow his pride and grab the lifeline his ex had thrown him.
The two men stood on opposite ends of the mecha, gripping the same whip as they steadied themselves against the violent shaking.
“Go contact Dean Qu immediately and report the situation here,” the Class Two instructor ordered a student, who hurried away. The instructor then stepped aside to make a call on his communicator.
Yan Xun, swaying as he held the whip, managed to smirk at Fu Siheng. “What are you doing here? Worried about me?”
Fu Siheng ignored him, his gaze sweeping over the mecha. “We need to find a way into the cockpit. We have five minutes before the automatic compression mechanism activates.”
“This is an ‘Eternal’ model,” Yan Xun said, his tone tinged with frustration.
The implication was clear: the cockpits of ‘Eternal’ mechas were hermetically sealed and could only be opened from the inside.
Just then, the mecha raised its arm and fired a shot exactly where Fu Siheng had been standing. The moment the gun roared, Fu Siheng used the whip to swing himself to a new position.
Yan Xun’s breath hitched, and his eyes, fixed on Fu Siheng, flared with a hint of anger.
“Fuck! Instructor Fu, Axun, watch out!” Yi Fengbei shouted from the sidelines.
The students who had retreated to the safe zone watched them tensely, terrified that the two of them would be riddled with bullets if they made a single mistake.
“When I find out which bastard did this, I’m going to cripple him,” Yan Xun sneered, his gaze sweeping over Fu Siheng to confirm he was uninjured.
They locked eyes. Fu Siheng’s gaze fell on the spot where Yan Xun had just placed his hand. Yan Xun raised an eyebrow, signaling his approval.
Without a word, they understood each other’s plan in an instant.
At this point, preserving the mecha was no longer an option. Their priority had to be saving the person inside.
The fastest and most efficient method was to violently disable the mecha’s power unit, paralyzing it instantly.
Only these two would be daring enough to even consider such a plan. Destroying the engine would mean ruining more than half the mecha, and the repair costs would be enough to buy a new one.
Fu Siheng scanned their surroundings but found no suitable tools for sabotage. The only weapon he carried was his whip.
Although the engine conducted heat rapidly, it was still about half a meter from the shoulder. Without tools, it would be nearly impossible to force it open.
The whip between them twitched. Yan Xun said to him, “Instructor Fu, don’t get distracted. Hold onto me tight.”
Fu Siheng looked over at him. Before he could speak, Yan Xun suddenly let go of the other hand he’d been using to cling to the mecha, shifting his entire weight onto the whip.
The sudden increase in weight from the other end forced Fu Siheng to quickly tighten his grip on the whip, only then managing to hold him firmly.
Yan Xun lifted the hem of his tank top, a slightly wicked smile playing on his lips as he asked, “Remember that time?”
Fu Siheng froze.
Before he could react, Yan Xun pulled the tank top off with one hand, revealing abs drenched in sweat—perfectly sculpted and handsome, like the statue of the God of War by the school gate.
He leisurely wrapped the tank top around his right hand and said casually to Fu Siheng, “What are you staring at? It’s not like you’re seeing it for the first time.”
A scene from four years ago flashed before Fu Siheng’s eyes.
It was a mock battlefield, an open class their squad had been conducting at the time. Simply put, the students were divided into Red and Blue teams for a confrontation.
Though it was just a simulation, the Imperial Military University’s “simulations” had always been conducted in live-combat mode, with even the ammunition carrying a slight lethal charge.
Fu Siheng and Yan Xun had been assigned to different teams. At that point, their long-standing rivalry had only just begun to ease.
After the warm-up, the exercise was about to begin. Fu Siheng was resting on the sidelines when Yan Xun walked over and handed him a bottle of water, which he drank. They chatted for a few moments before returning to their respective teams.
However, halfway through the battle, while tracking a Blue Side enemy, he fell into a trap.
Just as he finished off the opponent and prepared to exit, a sudden heat surged through his body, making him feel as if he were being incinerated from the inside. His throat constricted, leaving him unable to breathe, and his blood seemed to flow backward, making it impossible to even stand.
Trapped in the pit, he was quickly surrounded by the arriving Blue Army. He was a fish in a barrel.
But because of his critical military role, the Blue Army took him back to their headquarters, hoping to use him as bait to lure out and eliminate the opposing commander.
Bound in a guard room and drifting in and out of consciousness, he heard a commotion outside.
His last clear memory was the dull thud of the stainless steel door being blasted off its hinges.
A figure rushed toward him and scooped him up. The person’s hands were wet, seemingly injured.
Fu Siheng’s vision blurred. The stress response plunged him into shock. He caught the scent of a powerful combat pheromone and knew instinctively that this was a formidable Alpha from the Blue Army.
It was only after Fu Siheng woke up in the hospital that he learned he had accidentally taken an Alpha catalyst. For some reason, instead of entering his heat period, he had suffered an allergic reaction.
Every adult Alpha undergoes a period of irritability, heightened arousal, and a desperate craving to mark a partner, a phase collectively known as the “heat period.” However, such symptoms typically only manifest under the stimulation of Omega pheromones.
It was common knowledge that the Command Academy had no Omegas. The only way to trigger such a reaction was by taking a catalyst.
The incident on the training field had caused a major stir, and both he and Yan Xun were forced to make self-criticisms at a general meeting. Strangely, however, the Dean imposed no substantive punishment.
After all, defecting during a military exercise was a grave violation of military regulations.
Fu Siheng wondered if Fu Shouming had pulled strings to settle the matter. But when he went home to probe, he discovered that Fu Shouming knew nothing about it.
Standing atop the mecha, Yan Xun flashed him a casual smile. He wrapped his hand in cloth and slammed his fist directly into the engine.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd. The megaphone slipped from Yi Fengbei’s hand, clattering to the ground.
With a thunderous crash, the mecha’s armor caved in, and the entire machine shuddered violently.
Before the mecha could react, Yan Xun struck the same spot again. The solid muscles of his shoulders and back tightened, and sweat dripped onto the black armor.
Crack. A fissure spread across the mecha’s hull.
Fu Siheng gripped the whip tightly, his gaze fixed on him.
As the third punch descended, Qu Mengda and his team rushed into the arena. The expression on his face was a picture of shock.
The mecha’s engine sputtered with a few low hums, then shuddered violently before dying completely.
Yan Xun caught his breath, tilted his head, and looked at Fu Siheng.
In that moment, Fu Siheng felt as if he’d been transported back several years. They were in a secret relationship, and everyone around them was merely taking an emergency drill class.
Yan Xun had completed his mission beautifully and turned to his boyfriend with a look that said, Did I do well?
The illusion was so vivid that Fu Siheng couldn’t control his expression. His eyes flickered.