Chapter 20: Chapter 20: New Recruits on the Blank Slate
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Mu Fan rubbed his head and, upon re-entering the light, found himself back at the entrance of the tal Revolving Gate.
What kind of new recruit camp was this? Didn't the fat guy say that simulated combat didn't hold much significance? How could there be such a perverse new recruit training camp?
Looking around, Mu Fan confird he was no longer in that death-filled training base and breathed a sigh of relief.
He then looked at the electronic screen at the entrance, where a red "No Entry" sign was displayed, along with a countdown, which indicated approximately midnight the next day. By then, he would be able to enter again, just as the mysterious Fighter had ntioned.
How could it be so user-friendly, with technology this advanced? With deep awe for technology, Mu Fan walked out of the training camp.
Outside, the oppressive chanical city obscured the sky. He glanced down at his wristband, "Lemon Balloon - Online - In Combat."
Mu Fan sent a ssage with a single finger, "It's Mu Fan, I'm out."
...
In a ten-kiloter city ruin scenario, an orange-painted cha was sneakily hiding in a gap ford by broken rubble pressed against a high-rise beside a broken wall.
At this mont, the fat guy was in the half-circle cockpit of the sixth and a half-generation Fantasy cha, Lemon Balloon, gnashing his teeth, "You bunch of bronze five-star scum, teaming up to screw
over just because my cha looks good, damn it."
Clearly, the few bronze five-stars opposite him were people using smurf accounts. The fat guy's assumption that entering bronze would be like a fish in water had completely shattered. This had happened not fifty, but a hundred tis already. Every ti the fat guy encountered this, he'd die quite neatly, but who would've thought this ti he'd run into a bunch of obvious psychos? With six on each side, the opponents paired up, their aim was impeccable; they destroyed the legs of allies who couldn't dodge and then cut off the limbs with alloy blades, leaving only the cockpit intact. And then... these shaless fools started kicking it around like a ball.
Five had already blown up; no way was Fat Brother going out there—it was just too embarrassing.
Suddenly, two red dots appeared on the radar scanner to the left front—enemies! The fat guy gritted his teeth, prayed silently, and activated silent engine mode.
Luckily, Fat Brother's cha was good. The bronze shambles opposite were only using fifth-generation initial system chas.
Damn it, right, they were fifth-generation, so why should he be scared? The gap between chas was huge!
During a twelve-person dium-to-small team battle on the PO Battle Net, the default matchmaking allowed a maximum gap of only one generation. This ant that if you piloted a fourth-generation cha, you'd encounter fourth-generation initial chas at the lowest and fifth-generation initial chas at the highest level. The system wouldn't assign opponents or allies with too significant a discrepancy, as it would create blatant unfairness. The difference between cha generations was 5 to 8 years, sufficient for technological levels to create a noticeable gap. At higher levels like the seventh generation and beyond, each generational gap could even reach 10 years.
This was the Fantasy Fighter Zone. The fat guy sat in the quiet cockpit muttering, "So talented, why don't you go to the real Fighter Zone? Don't just ss around here, playing fantasy with the system's free chas, really sick."
The two red dots on the radar were closing in. Not good, they'd found him. The fat guy had an unexpectedly keen sense of danger, especially when it ca to escaping. Fat Brother always managed to perform at his best.
Watching the two red dots enter the building behind him, they planned to sneak attack through the walls.
Suddenly, the wristband beeped: "It's Mu Fan, I'm out."
So fast! The fat guy was stunned. How long had it been? Not even one battle session had finished.
Then, he gritted his teeth and said fiercely, "You scum are forcing Young Master Harry to take action."
Detonate War Scorpion Mines!
Suddenly, four football-sized holes appeared in the ground of the building behind the fat guy's cha. Four chanical scorpions, glowing with white tallic sheen, crawled out, then laser beams locked onto the two chas that had just deactivated their proactive scanning and entered the ground floor of the building.
Jump, impact! The four scorpions shot out at incredible speeds.
Boom! Boom! A series of violent explosive shockwaves erupted, blasting the orange cha where the fat guy was also out.
As for the two chas, they had long been blown to bits.
"Underestimate Fat Grandpa, huh? This is the highest configuration of fantasy active tracking mine I bought in the sixth-generation cha," Young Master Harry said viciously.
The two red dots disappeared instantly from the radar.
"Damn it! No. 3, No. 6, calling No. 3, No. 6." The enemy captain called out to his teammates in the squad communication channel, but no response ca.
System notice: "Lemon Balloon" killed "Qiao Mosen"
System notice: "Lemon Balloon" killed "Zelda Card"
System notice: "Lemon Balloon" achieved a double kill
"Hahaha! You scum!" Fat Brother's arrogant voice echoed through the ruins via loudspeakers.
"Bang!"
The bright orange cha was like a beacon in the darkness. A single clear gunshot echoed, and the fat guy's cha's energy compartnt was savagely torn apart by a high-velocity sniper rifle bullet, triggering a high-temperature energy combustion explosion.
"You ba..." Fat Brother couldn't finish the curse as he was engulfed in flas.
The fat guy's figure reappeared in the waiting area, which was now much more deserted. He leaned back into the sofa with a frustrated expression.
"Exhausting Fat Brother, these idiot teammates!" The fat guy was filled with resentnt from the recent battle. The coordination was completely out of order; it was utter chaos. If it weren't for Brother's good equipnt holding off two, it would've been a total loss.
Sigh, felt like he forgot sothing?
The fat guy slapped his forehead; that's right, Mu Fan said he ca out. The battle was so tense he almost forgot to reply.
"Video request, accept?" Mu Fan had been staring blankly at his wristband for several minutes when it finally beeped, indicating a video connection request.
"Mu Fan? How did you get out so quickly? I told you the training was pretty pointless." The fat guy's frustrated expression hadn't fully faded.
"Yeah, the training's over. What now?" Mu Fan didn't feel like explaining much; it was just too embarrassing. He died twice in there, it felt so realistic, plus he wasn't the type to explain things, so he left it at that.
The fat guy said dejectedly, "I was just in a fight, didn't notice your ssage, those bastards screwed
over, lost, sigh."
Mu Fan still didn't have a full grasp of winning or losing yet and asked, "What do we do now?"
Seeing that Mu Fan didn't respond to his words, the fat guy looked crestfallen, "Wait a bit, let
send you the coordinates. Head to the teleportation point next to the training camp and co to ."
"Ding, received coordinates invitation from friend Lemon Balloon, synchronize to navigation?"
"Yes." Mu Fan confird, and soon a walking route was projected onto the screen. Mu Fan lifted his head to confirm the teleportation point's position just ahead, where many people were coming and going, with bursts of white light flashing.
Mu Fan walked to the egg-shaped building, where he found it wasn't crowded at all. Instead, he was the only one there; it seed PO Battle Net automatically prepared a separate transport space for each individual.
Please specify the teleportation location, a floating strip of an automatic console inquired.
"Teleportation location at coordinates XXXX, XXXX."
"Confird, please Player "Egg Lord" step into the teleportation circle, teleportation comncing."
In a flash, the fresh recruit, who had skipped the Fighter training and forgotten about cha training, Mu Fan, was teleported out of the new recruit base.
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