Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Bazell had no intention of exposing Lin Fu to mechs so soon, starting instead with theoretical knowledge.

Lin Fu was not in a rush, following the arranged curriculum and sitting beside the mech.

When sitting cross-legged on the ground, he was even shorter than the foot of the mech.

The training ground's skylight shone bright, casting a warm golden glow that gilded him, making his already fair skin even more translucent, almost like crystal.

In the distance, a sentinel piloting a mech took a nasty fall, eliciting raucous laughter.

"Tang Qian, did a pretty face just bewitch your soul away?"

"Tang Qian, would you hurry up and stow away your mech? You're making a laughingstock out of us sentinels!"

The minor commotion in the distance failed to capture Lin Fu's attention as he rapidly scanned through the documents.

Grasping theoretical knowledge proved to be easier than he anticipated. Not only did interstellar humans enjoy increased longevity, but they also evolved substantially in various aspects, especially in terms of brain capacity. The formidable mental strength allowed one to grasp a wealth of knowledge at a glance and retain it in memory.

Although Lin Fu's mental strength had only just begun to recover, it didn't greatly impact his learning.

The theoretical materials Bazil provided were perused by Lin Fu over three days.

Three days later, while the sky was still dimly lit, Lin Fu went to the square. Before the instructor could continue to assign new lessons, he said, "I'd like to go inside and have a look."

Bazil wanted to dissuade him, hoping he would start with the theoretical knowledge first. Lin Fu replied, "I've finished reading the theoretical materials, but the descriptions therein are never as profound as the firsthand experience."

Bazil: "...Alright. I'll give you ten minutes. Choose one."

The square housed the communal training mechs. Most of the people in the military academy were accompanied by their own specialized mechs, so these were not often used.

Lin Fu chose a nearby one, an unpolished, ugly, pitch-black mech.

It was the very one he had been squatting beneath these past few days while reading the materials.

A fervent eagerness began to surge in his heart.

After entering the cockpit, recalling the materials he had read, he placed his hand on the connection panel and tentatively guided his thoughts, allowing his mental strength to connect with the mech.

This was far easier than he had imagined. With a mere thought, his mental strength immediately surged into the mech, connecting throughout its body. He was astonished to find that the world seen through the mech's eyes was transmitted to his own. The vast, seemingly boundless training square now had visible borders, and the instructor on the ground appeared like a tiny creature, only slightly larger than an ant.

This sensation was exceedingly novel. Lin Fu could feel his heart rate accelerating, and a certain impulsiveness in his mind: he could make this colossal being do anything! He was the giant itself!

Lin Fu instinctively wanted to stand up, but the next second, darkness engulfed his vision, and blood uncontrollably sprayed from his mouth!

Every muscle in his body screamed in pain, but what was more unbearable was the agony in his mind, like steel needles stirring, causing an excruciating headache.

He had been reckless.

Lin Fu swallowed the blood that was spilling out, wiped his face and chin clean, and slowly crawled out of the cockpit, enduring the tumultuous headache. He said to Bazil, "Teacher, I feel rather unwell. I'd like to go back."

Bazil, seeing his pale complexion, assumed it was the normal weakness from guiding into the mech and allowed him to return.

After the crowd had dispersed and the wait for the sentinel training to begin, Bazil reminisced about Lin Fu's earlier state and couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Lin Fu returned to the villa and burst into the bathroom, expelling blood in great heaves. He discarded his uniform to avoid staining it with the scent of blood, then collapsed to the floor, his temples' veins crawling down, twisting into a ferocious arc along his neck.

The pain was unbearable.

It almost matched the agony he'd endured during his previous optimization.

Lin Fu, clutching his head, curled up and rolled on the ground, biting down hard to stifle any cries of pain.

Otherwise, he might attract the attention of patrol robots.

As dawn broke, the muffled groans emanating from Lin Fu's throat also faded, leaving him motionless on the bathroom floor, lying in a pool of blood.

*

When he awoke, the daylight was bright outside. Lin Fu inquired about the time from his system and discovered it was already noon the next day.

He leaned on the wall to rise, gazed at the drying bloodstains on the ground with an impassive face, methodically found tools to rinse and scrub the floor clean, ensuring no blood remained in any corner. After tidying himself up, he found a nutrient solution and gulped it down.

The headache had ceased completely, as if the intense agony from before was merely an illusion experienced by Lin Fu.

Only after confirming with his system that his internal organs were intact did he message his instructor to resume training.

He now understood why Principal Carl had only suggested the minor task of controlling the mech's movement.

Such a seemingly minor request was, in fact, an insurmountable challenge for a guide.

He assumed Lin Fu would also fail to complete it, realizing the physiological weaknesses of guides, and consequently, would retreat knowing the difficulty.

Perhaps, had it been a guide born and raised here, nurtured within this ideology, they would have indeed retreated in the face of such challenges.

But Lin Fu was different.

With only a month's time, he must control the mech before the deadline!

And it wasn't just about simple movements like controlling a finger; only by exceeding expectations would Carl take him more seriously, believe his words, and be willing to offer more support.

Seeking out Carl was a risky venture from the start. If Lin Fu failed to seize this opportunity, facing the Lin family, he would be left with nothing but the prospect of being slaughtered.

He followed the instructor through the basic theoretical knowledge, understanding not only the usage of mechs but also their structure. On the battlefield, in the event of damage, a mech pilot might not have immediate access to a mechanic for repairs and would need to undertake emergency repairs themselves.

Lin Fu obtained access from Bazil, expressing a desire to observe the interior structure of the cockpit. Bazil, having always found Lin Fu to be obedient and well-behaved, entrusted him with the access without hesitation.

Lin Fu pored over the data on his portable terminal late into the night. Only after all the other military academy students had returned to their dorms did he stand up, look up at the mech for a long moment, and then climb into the cockpit.

As expected, even lifting a finger was a struggle. But this time, Lin Fu had a rough estimate in mind; his internal organs wouldn’t be severely affected by this level of stress. The biggest problem was the immense pain in his head caused by the exertion of mental force.

Blood oozed out from the corner of his lips, his veins twisted and bulged, and he clenched his teeth to endure the pain, focusing on controlling the mech's fingers to move.

Time passed slowly. The pitch-black mech, motionless until now, suddenly stirred. The enormous mechanical hand resting on its knee twitched ever so slightly—a movement so quick and faint it almost seemed like an illusion.

Lin Fu collapsed in the cockpit, withdrawing his mental force. He took out the clothes and cleaning tools he had prepared in advance from the storage unit to remove the scattered bloodstains inside the cockpit and replaced his blood-soaked clothes.

After tidying up everything, he propped himself up against the cold mech and slowly crawled out of the cockpit, heading back to his quarters.

This time, there was no severe vomiting of blood, but Lin Fu was so drained that he couldn't muster the energy for anything else. After cleaning up, he lay down on his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke the next day, the residual headache was much lighter than the first time.

After finishing his nutrient drink, he inputted instructions into a robot, asking for a few more sets of uniforms to be delivered.

No one would be suspicious of such a request, as guides often cared more about their appearance than sentinels. Asking for a few extra uniforms was completely normal; it just meant he liked to be clean and couldn’t really be considered vain.

Lin Fu maintained this routine of studying theoretical knowledge during the day and secretly practicing mech control during the quiet of the night.

A few days later, the curriculum included manual disassembly and assembly of mechs.

Lin Fu squatted at the edge of the training field, tapping and knocking with a wrench in hand, disassembling the mech piece by piece.

The training field was abuzz with sentinels sparring heatedly, punctuated by the loud crashes of mechs colliding and the cheering and shouting of their classmates.

Lin Fu would occasionally glance up before resuming his work, the parts he had disassembled quickly being reassembled.

"Tang Qian! Quick, dodge! Dodge! Ah! It’s over."

The excited shouts drew Lin Fu’s attention.

He kicked the mech's outer shell plating forcefully into place, completing the assembly, and turned to see what was happening on the training field.

A slate-grey mech lay fallen, its chest plate caved in, forming a deep dent.

The cockpit opened, and a youth clad in dark-hued school uniform emerged, his face ashen. Upon seeing his classmates coming to assist him, he managed a strained smile: "I'm fine..."

The opposing mech also came to a halt. From within its cockpit, a young man hurriedly clambered out, exclaiming, "How are you doing? Why didn't you dodge just now?"

"Exactly, Tang Qian, you used to be much better than this. What’s been going on with you lately?"

Tang Qian rose from the ground, rubbing his chest, his face pale as a sheet, and shook his head silently.

Suddenly, someone squatted down beside him near the mech and, after examining it for a moment, asked, "May I try fixing it?"

Tang Qian, startled by Lin Fu’s unexpected appearance, was almost too shocked to speak: "You, you go ahead and fix it."

His classmates, noticing his flustered demeanor, nudged each other's arms and exchanged knowing glances towards the petite guide.

While they were still worried about Tang Qian, it seemed he had been utterly bewitched by a beauty.

Tang Qian’s focus remained on Lin Fu. Seeing him ready to work, he volunteered, "I’ll move it to the edge of the training field for you."

Lin Fu, massaging his wrist, responded, "Sure, thank you."

Tang Qian stowed the mech in his storage device and, upon reaching the edge of the training field, released it again. He watched Lin Fu nervously, hesitant to speak.

Assuming Tang Qian was worried about his mech, Lin Fu rolled up his sleeves and said, "You can watch here. You must have covered this in your lessons. If I do something wrong, please let me know. Thank you."

Tang Qian immediately agreed, his eagerness suggesting he had been waiting for Lin Fu to say this, prepared to stay by his side.

Lin Fu, a bit curious, looked up to appraise Tang Qian.

He was a rather delicate-looking young man, with a timidity uncommon among sentinels. When he noticed Lin Fu looking at him, he nervously fidgeted with his fingers.