Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Although the Nawei Military Region’s conduct had never been popular, one thing was undeniable: their training equipment was indeed far more advanced than that of the 6616th Military Region.

While a seventh-tier military region was only two levels higher than a ninth-tier one, each intervening level represented a significant chasm, and these chasms only widened as the military region’s rank increased.

The training pods at Nawei Fortress were entirely different from the models at 6616th Fortress, which were on the verge of obsolescence. These pods were directly linked to the military headquarters’ internal network. Beyond the well-configured physical training mechs, the core of this training program was the military’s universal simulated training system.

All trainees participating in the program were issued temporary personal accounts. Upon entering the simulation pods, they would log into the military’s internal training platform using these accounts.

On this platform, in in addition to meticulously detailed training modules, there were simulated assessments of varying scales. These assessments could be single-player or multiplayer, encompassing a wide range of mission types with different difficulty levels and comprehensive combat simulations. Those who passed the assessments received corresponding military points as rewards.

Initially, the military points system was conceived merely as an entertaining incentive for self-improvement. However, over time, it subtly evolved into an internal competition within the military, becoming a tangible measure of comprehensive capability. Now, by accessing the rankings on the training system’s homepage, one could view the current total military points leaderboard, with each name at the top resonating throughout the military.

While the trainees might not have a concrete understanding of the tangible value of these virtual military points, the mere sight of legendary names appearing before their eyes was enough to ignite the passion of these aspiring reservists.

Liang Deng, the faction leader, watched from a distance as his team, a chaotic mix of excitement and agitation, made his vision blur. "This isn’t right, is it? Our fortress also has simulated training. Even if they’ve never eaten pork, they should at least have seen the pig run. It’s just logging into an account—how could it be such a mess?"

Xiao Nuoya’s words drifted lightly, "Come on, don’t set your expectations too high. I think these trainees are actually doing quite well. Shall I remind you how someone, when first encountering these machines, managed to collectively scrap ten simulation pods while following the instruction manual?"

Liang Deng glared at him. "...Can’t you stop bringing up old grievances?"

"Not bringing up old grievances won’t kill me, but if someone forgets such a significant favor, I’d truly die of regret." Xiao Nuoya chuckled. "I’m glad you haven’t forgotten who scrimped and saved to help you pay off that debt. That was a full six months of plain white rice—to this day, the sight of pure white rice still makes me feel a little nauseous."

Liang Deng was left speechless and unable to refute. "Only a petty person like you would leverage a favor to this extent."

Xiao Nuoya replied, "Well, since you’ve always been ungrateful, it falls to me, your benefactor, to remind you properly."

Liang Deng "hmph-ed," unwilling to continue the argument. He glanced toward a simulation pod that had already started operating nearby. "Speaking of which, that Chu Xiao is from your Infantry Department, right? According to the records, he did transfer from Nawei Star to Planet 6616."

Recalling earlier events, he let out a meaningful click of his tongue. "Given today’s situation, it’s clear the two instructors from Nawei Fortress were deliberately targeting him. It seems there might be some story behind the recruitment two years ago. I just wonder what exactly happened."

Xiao Nuoya glanced in that direction, unconcerned. "I’ve spoken with this year’s Infantry Department head. Chu Xiao was one of the people he recommended to me. Based on recent observations, this trainee’s individual quality is quite good. As long as it’s not a matter of principle, whatever issues he has with the Nawei Military Region have nothing to do with us at the 6616th Military Region."

Liang Deng laughed. "True, who hasn’t had beef with those condescending types from the Nawei Military Region?"

As he said this, he glanced at the figure beside the simulation pod. "Still, those few seem quite close."

Not far away, Bai Luming naturally sensed the benevolent gazes from the two colonels but paid them no mind.

He quickly adjusted the simulation training pod and enthusiastically invited Chu Xiao to start training. "Come on, Xiao Bao, the settings are all adjusted. Give it a try."

"I’ve told you not to call me Xiao Bao..."

Chu Xiao offered yet another feeble protest before climbing into the simulation training pod under everyone’s watchful eyes.

Tang Ruyan observed from the side, saying with emotion, "Helping adjust it personally—could you be any more thoughtful?"

Bai Luming replied, "Well, it’s necessary."

Although everyone’s operating habits require some special adjustments, Chu Xiao’s situation is somewhat unique. Relying solely on the device’s auto-adjustment would likely make it impossible for him to even get started.

Tang Ruyan stared at him intently. "Since both of you from the Mecha Department are here, how about adjusting mine too?"

Bai Luming took a half-step back and gestured. "Yi Lan, it’s your turn."

He Yilan glanced at him, feeling that this guy was becoming increasingly adept at ordering him around.

Tang Ruyan also looked over expectantly. "Is that okay?"

Bai Luming said, "Of course. Our Yi Lan is always happy to help."

"..."

He Yilan fell silent for a few seconds before replying calmly, "It’s fine."

Tang Ruyan exclaimed, "Thank you so much!"

Tang Ruyan stood by her simulation training pod, waiting for He Yilan to finish adjusting the device. After expressing her gratitude, she happily began her training session.

When He Yilan returned, he shot Bai Luming a look. "Next time you want something done, do it yourself."

Bai Luming answered, "I’m just lazy."

The response was so straightforward that He Yilan couldn’t help but laugh. "You’re lazy, so you make me do it?"

"Don’t be so petty." Bai Luming sighed lightly. "Look, I just experienced transition sickness yesterday and still feel dizzy and weak in the legs today. I really have limited energy and just want to rest a bit more. After all, you wouldn’t want me to go back and die in bed again after today’s training, would you?"

His reasonable explanation was met with a brief silence.

After a long pause, He Yilan’s voice broke the quiet. "The student has surpassed the master. Your tea-serving skills have reached graduation level."

Bai Luming smiled. "Thank you for the compliment."

He Yilan didn’t pursue the topic further. Instead, he glanced at the operating simulation pod and asked, "Are you helping Chu Xiao?"

Bai Luming chuckled softly. "Helping? Everyone chooses their own path and must walk it themselves. At most, I can only point him in a general direction. How far he goes is up to him."

He Yilan asked calmly, "So where do you think he can go?"

Bai Luming answered without hesitation, "I’ve always had a good eye for people. As long as he remains determined, he should be able to go—very, very far."

With that, he leisurely shifted his gaze. "Let’s go. If we don’t start training soon, the instructors might come to drag us away."

More and more trainees had figured out the simulation pods and begun their daily training.

Although Bai Luming wasn't enthusiastic about training, he didn’t want to attract the instructors’ attention by being overly lazy. So, he found an empty simulation pod and lay down inside.

After logging in, his identity information panel popped up—

Name: Lu Ming;

Gender: Male;

Age: 26;

Department: Mecha Department;

Account Type: Temporary Pass.

Bai Luming glanced at the words "Temporary Pass" and continued with the setup.

It had been a long time since he last logged into the military’s internal training system. Judging by the version, the system had clearly been upgraded since his day, appearing far more gaudy overall. The ranking entrance in the top right corner of the homepage was particularly eye-catching.

Bai Luming was genuinely curious about how the military’s personnel had changed over the years. Since he had no intention of training hard anyway, he lay back in the pod and leisurely browsed through the rankings as if watching a movie screening.

The homepage of the leaderboard displayed the total military points rankings of the top 500 personnel from the Four Great Armies. At a glance, the rankings were striking, listed from top to bottom: Red Feather Army, Azure Shadow Legion, Golden Plume Legion, and White Flame Legion.

Among them, the Red Feather Army had 125 personnel in the top 500 military points rankings, the Azure Shadow Legion had 122, the Golden Plume Legion had 110, and the White Flame Legion had 103. The remaining personnel primarily held important positions in the first and second-tier legions.

The White Flame Legion is now ranked fourth.

Bai Luming continued looking further.

Entering the second ranking list, what came into view was the current top 20 military points rankings.

With a quick glance, Bai Luming unsurprisingly saw that familiar name at the top: Chi Yan.

The marshal of the Red Feather Army was a notorious grind king, and over the years, he had unsurprisingly remained grinding relentlessly, firmly holding the top position. In comparison, the leaders of the other three legions seemed to be slacking off too much, generally barely keeping their military points rankings within the top 10 just to show their strength was still there.

What surprised Bai Luming was that as his gaze moved further down, he saw his own name on this page.

He remembered when this system was first introduced; he had indeed treated it like a virtual net game and went hard for several months, completing almost all the training missions that could earn military points and topped the charts for a long time. Despite the military’s training system undergoing several version upgrades over the years, with many new high-value training programs added, his name still remained high on the list.

Rank 18: Bai Luming.

But what surprised Bai Luming even more than this ranking was—they really hadn’t purged his name from the military network yet?!

What was the intention behind the Emperor’s decision? To give the military personnel a goal for self-motivation? Or to keep it there to pay respects?

Bai Luming’s gaze lingered for a moment, he couldn't pinpoint his feelings, and he simply shook his head silently.

He tapped around idly and continued scrolling through the rankings.

From the names at the top of the list, it was still the usual suspects coming and going, with only a few unfamiliar names occasionally appearing—likely new blood who had emerged in recent years.

Bai Luming knew this system well: the higher the military points required for a test, the more it meant that hard work alone wouldn’t cut it. This implied that every single point difference at the top of the rankings, though seemingly small, was actually a massive leap.

These newly emerged officers, able to complete so many high-difficulty operational tests in a short time and break into the top military points rankings, were clearly already big shots within their respective legions in terms of strength alone.

The military’s internal sim system couldn’t fully represent a soldier’s individual strength, but all the assessment missions were designed with a basis, covering everything from personal combat to tactical simulations and even emergency medical care. As long as everyone gave their all, the final military points data was a great indicator in evaluating an individual’s overall quality.

Because of this, there were also those who, due to exceptionally dazzling military points performances, were fast-tracked by the Four Great Legions and shot up the ranks.

The trainees’ login accounts were all temporary this time, so accumulating military points naturally held little meaning. But even so, as long as they cherished the learning time within this system, it was enough to bring them significant improvement.

Having returned after a long absence, Bai Luming had a blast spotting old names on the rankings.

Time passed unnoticed, and as the day’s training time was about to end, he reluctantly wrapped up his "tour."

Not far away, the other trainees were also hesitantly climbing out of the sim pods.

Bai Luming steadied himself and glanced up, just as he saw He Yilan stepping out of a nearby pod as well: "How was today’s training?"

"Pretty good," He Yilan replied, then asked in return, "What about you?"

Bai Luming didn’t need to ask to know that He Yilan had probably skated by just like he had all day. Seeing through it but not calling it out, he said, "I felt pretty good too, my eyes are killing me."

Tang Ruyan happened to overhear this as she approached and asked curiously, "What did you practice that could cause eye strain?"

Bai Luming, as always, answered without hesitation: "Shooting. The targets were too small."

He Yilan chuckled softly.

Tang Ruyan gave the two a puzzled look but didn’t dwell on it: "By the way, did you know the micro-terminals the fortress issued us can access the internal forum?"

Bai Luming asked, "What internal forum?"

Tang Ruyan activated the virtual panel on her micro-terminal, and after a few operations, the trainee forum interface appeared before them: "This one. I’ve already checked—many trainees from our batch already know about it and have posted quite a few training-related threads. With this, information exchange will be much smoother going forward. You can even see a lot of 81—"

She cut off before the last "8" could fully leave her mouth, her finely shaped brows furrowing slightly: "Shit?"

Though not as refined as Ji Xinghan, Tang Ruyan usually maintained her outward image meticulously. Her sudden outburst of profanity made Bai Luming curious about what she had seen.

But when he followed Tang Ruyan’s gaze, his initially amused expression darkened slightly.

Just seconds earlier, a post marked "New" had been published on the forum—

"The Tea on That Mech Rampage at Prison No. 6."

Prison No. 6.

Mechanical Rampage Incident.

For those who had just heard these two terms earlier today, the title’s implications were a bit too pointed.