Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 103

Cheng Feng immediately sensed that something was off.

Mainly because if it was something Yan Shen was egging her on to do, then she absolutely could not do it.

No matter the reason.

Jiang Linxia roughly slapped Xiang Yunjian’s hand away, then fussed over his precious hair, making sure every strand was exactly where it belonged – even though the green-dyed hair was so short there was barely anything to fix. Only then did he turn to Cheng Feng with a waggling grin and say, “Well? Aren’t I the most eye-catching guy on this whole street?”

Cheng Feng nodded vigorously.

Jiang Linxia instantly looked deeply gratified, like a psychiatric patient who had finally met someone he could communicate with. Moved to the core, he declared, “You really are my thoughtful little cotton jacket. You’re the only one left in our circle who can still appreciate beauty. I didn’t spoil you for nothing!”

As he spoke, he jabbed rapidly at the menu with a flurry of taps before turning back with a benevolent expression. “Eat more. Xiang Yunjian’s paying. If you can’t finish it, pack it up.”

Resting his chin on one hand, Xiang Yunjian let out two cold laughs.

Every ounce of sarcasm was packed into those brief chuckles.

Jiang Linxia comforted him magnanimously, “Have a little grace. No matter how hard things get, the kids shouldn’t suffer. Just look how skinny our Cheng Feng’s gotten, right?”

He patted Cheng Feng on the shoulder and stared at her for several seconds. Then, sensing something wrong, he casually pinched her cheek too. His expression changed instantly as he cried out in shock, “Fuck, did you actually gain weight during training camp? Are the instructors at the base that useless now? Or is your tech division training watered down too much?”

Cheng Feng rolled up her sleeves and showed him the muscles on her arms, indicating that although she ate a lot, it had mostly turned into strength – not fat.

Jiang Linxia said with mixed feelings, “They look great, but don’t grow any more.”

With Cheng Feng’s height and build, thrown into a crowd of tall, burly infantries, she was perfectly positioned as a violent loli. Jiang Linxia really hoped she wouldn’t evolve in the direction of a King Kong loli.

A service robot came over with the dishes, and Xiang Yunjian casually asked it to reheat the rest of the food as well.

Seizing the opportunity, Cheng Feng picked up a clean bowl and chopsticks and buried herself in eating, too absorbed in shoveling down rice to bother talking to them.

Bored out of his mind, Jiang Linxia pulled out his light-brain again and admired the heavily retouched photos inside, repeatedly appreciating his own handsome face. After staring for a while, he couldn’t help clicking his tongue in praise. “Youth in full bloom.”

Xin Kuang sat directly across from him and had already suffered through this torture for a long time. His eyes practically had calluses from the assault. Seeing this, he nearly wanted to fling his chopsticks straight at Jiang Linxia’s face.

“That’s enough already. The magazine shoot’s been over for ages – how are you still not over it?”

“In another couple washes the color’s gonna fade. Can’t I appreciate it while it lasts?” Jiang Linxia set down his light-brain and said smugly, “My decision was absolutely brilliant. Green hair is the undisputed group-photo killer.”

Cheng Feng’s ears twitched, and she looked up to ask, “Group photos?”

“Yeah, the warm-up promo event for the military university league. San Yao invited everyone to shoot a special magazine issue.” Jiang Linxia leaned forward and recounted the story to Cheng Feng with exaggerated seriousness. “You have no idea – I got paired with Zhong Yijie for the photos. Good lord, that guy is way too good at stealing the spotlight. He must’ve secretly practiced posing a million times. How was I so unlucky to end up in the same group as him?”

It took Cheng Feng a moment to remember who Zhong Yijie was. He was the pilot of [Wusu] whom she’d first selected to fight after modifying the mech’s manual controls.

She still remembered how absurdly handsome he was. In a group photo, he probably dominated by sheer natural advantage alone. Especially standing next to someone as unserious-looking as Jiang Linxia – his image and style made him look even more like the protagonist. So she sympathetically said, “My condolences.”

“But guys, you know, their fashion sense is usually kinda – huh… what did you just say?” Jiang Linxia sucked in a sharp breath. His face darkened as if smeared with charcoal, and he narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Say that again. I didn’t hear you clearly.”

Recently, Cheng Feng had learned quite a lot. She felt she’d made tremendous progress – at the very least, she now deeply understood that survival instinct was a wonderful thing, and everyone needed one. Including her.

She blinked very sincerely and said, “I didn’t say anything. I said he was really unlucky.”

Jiang Linxia didn’t keep making trouble for himself. He only rolled his eyes at Cheng Feng a couple more times and stopped pressing the issue. Still, he was obviously annoyed now and didn’t even feel like talking to her anymore.

From the other side, Yan Shen gleefully stirred the pot. “You’ve taught the kid her first lie in life.”

Jiang Linxia snapped, “Fuck off!”

“I want to see the photos too,” Cheng Feng said with a perfectly straight face, continuing to flatter him. “Youth in full bloom!”

The three people nearby all shook their heads in unison.

Apparently, this was natural talent.

“You mean the special issue magazine?” Jiang Linxia’s mood visibly improved. “I still have a sample copy back in my dorm. I’ll show it to you later.”

…

Jiang Linxia was extremely eager to let Cheng Feng appreciate the camera presence of his tuft of green hair, so after dinner he proactively delivered the sample magazine to her.

Back in her room, Cheng Feng lay on the bed and flipped through it.

The special issue’s theme was “Edge.”

The cover featured a group shot of seven students, each from a different military university.

The photos seemed to have been captured from ordinary simulation matches or training exercises. The students held weapons in their arms, their gazes sharp and their expressions resolute. Their facial lines were clean and striking; perhaps there was a bit of dust smeared on them, but it did nothing to diminish the heroism radiating from their very bones.

Xiang Yunjian occupied the center position. Dressed in a black winter uniform, he had one hand raised as he wiped dust from his nose.

His eyes pierced directly into the camera, perfectly embodying the issue’s theme of “Edge,” like a freshly sharpened sword with all its intimidating force fully unsheathed. Beneath the hand partially covering the lower half of his face, one could still vaguely make out a wild, unrestrained grin.

There was a code in the lower-right corner of the page – scan it and you could view an animated holographic version. But Cheng Feng wasn’t very interested in people showing off how cool they were.

She casually flipped to the second page.

Unexpectedly, the second page hit her like a truck.

It was still the same seven people from before.

But now, everyone had their arms crossed and their bodies slightly angled toward the center. Their eyes were dull, their presence limp and lifeless. The synchronized poses and stiff expressions made them look strangely goofy and honest, completely different from the sharp image on the cover.

Only Xiang Yunjian looked slightly better, probably because he normally liked striking that pose anyway and often looked at people with the expression of a strict family patriarch.

The blank spaces were filled with the slogan for this year’s military university league, making the entire page look even more like some tacky advertisement for a shady shell company.

Cheng Feng lingered on this page for a long time. She found it so hilarious that she took a photo and sent it to Jiang Linxia to discuss “aesthetic philosophy” together.

Ye Guicheng: Why are you using this pose? [image]

What’s Good About Summer: [pounding-the-ground-laughing] Hahaha, do you also think it looks super stupid?

What’s Good About Summer: The magazine editor said it would be best to have a unified group photo for the inside pages for promotion purposes. The original plan was for everyone to stand at attention and salute in military posture, but one student broke their leg during training recently and can’t stand up because it’s in a cast.

What’s Good About Summer: So the editor wanted to just crop the upper bodies of the group. But having seven heads stiffly sticking into one frame looked way too awkward! The designer adjusted the layout and rotated their direction, but the other students all objected. If they faced sideways, it looked like some old-style banknote pose; if they faced toward the center, it looked like they were all saluting Xiang Yunjian.

What’s Good About Summer: In the end, they argued internally for a long time and finally settled on this pose.

Cheng Feng imagined the other two versions and felt they really would have looked just as bizarre.

What’s Good About Summer: [sigh] But it seems the official version is going to delete this photo. What a pity.

Cheng Feng also felt it was quite a pity. That meant losing so much happiness.

She quickly flipped through the rest of the pages.

Most of the people inside were vaguely familiar but not personally known to her – faces she would occasionally see in battle highlight reels.

As for Jiang Linxia’s green hair, Cheng Feng almost skimmed past it completely, only stopping when she saw Zhong Yijie’s face.

Because he was wearing a military cap, not a single strand of dyed hair was visible. The so-called “group photo killer” had probably been completely killed off by the hat instead.

…This was probably what people called a psychological effect.

The special issue only had around sixty pages in total, so she reached the end quickly. At the very back of the magazine, however, there was a detailed write-up of the military university league registration process. Scanning the QR code also allowed viewers to watch a tutorial video.

Cheng Feng sprang up from the bed in one swift motion and scanned it from beginning to end.

This season’s league preliminaries will be held this September, at the very beginning of the new semester. The preliminaries will mainly consist of mixed-format combat matches. The finals will include two team matches with formats yet to be decided.

Before the preliminaries, there will also be a qualification round for registration, running from mid-February to the end of May.

There were so many rules that they filled an entire page. Cheng Feng summarized them, picking out the four most important points:

1. Students must first rank within the top 20% in the qualification registration competition to be eligible for the later stages of the tournament.
2. Manual-operatedmechs and sensor-operated mechs will be tested separately.
3. Combat sessions are divided into three time slots: morning (10:00–12:00), afternoon (14:00–16:00), and evening (19:00–21:00). Students must book their matches one day in advance, and the system will automatically generate matchups. If a student needs leave for any reason, they can submit a request in the system up to two hours before the match.
4. There is no limit on the total number of matches that can be booked. Each match is limited to 30 minutes. There are no penalty deductions. Wins earn points, and consecutive wins grant additional bonus points according to a tiered formula. If one side fails to check in within five minutes past the scheduled time, it is counted as a loss. The tiered formula can be viewed in the attached file.

From the fourth rule alone, it seemed San Yao and the military universities were quite supportive of the idea that diligence can make up for lack of talent.

However, since infantry ability itself requires a large amount of accumulated experience, encouraging students to train more through an open platform like this wasn’t really a problem.

Cheng Feng took out her optical computer, searched for the promotional site linked at the bottom of the page, and checked the current qualification round leaderboard.

Aside from a group of seeded players who were directly guaranteed entry into the preliminaries, all other students had recently been frantically farming points.

The manual-operated mech category had relatively fewer applicants – only about one-third of the sensor-operated mech group. But judging from the number of matches, these students were even more aggressive in their grinding than the sensor mech operators.

Since challenges opened in mid-February, just a little over a month had passed, and the student with the highest match count had already fought over 350 matches, with their combat points exceeding a thousand.

According to the booking rules, each match was limited to 30 minutes, meaning at most 12 matches could be completed in a full day.

The students at the top of the leaderboard were basically grinding points nonstop all day. Even those lower on the list, at the very bottom of the rankings, had still accumulated around 270 matches.

It seemed that regardless of the qualification round itself, students in the manual-operation department were using this opportunity to further familiarize themselves with mech modifications.

Cheng Feng, already a month behind, now seemed to be in a somewhat difficult position to catch up.

She slapped her thigh, hissed softly, and without much hesitation clicked the “Registration Link” at the very bottom of the webpage.