In the San Yao video section, a livestream room quietly popped up. It had no title, and when the streaming feature was enabled, the competition had just reached the one-third mark.
The streamer was Xu Jingwang – one of the top students in the manual-operated mecha program, and also one of the most promising manual pilots hoping to make it to the finals of this year’s league. Fans who followed his account received notifications and casually clicked in to watch.
Truth be told, Xu Jingwang’s matches weren’t particularly exciting. Everyone already knew his combat style – exceptionally tenacious.
In the later stages of a match, you could at least get some entertainment value from the opponent’s growing frustration. But in the early stages? The only way to describe it was “entangled, lingering, and fluttering like butterflies.”
Today, however, the two mechas were clearly flying with extraordinary intensity – sprinting at full speed throughout the match and maintaining their momentum far longer than anyone expected.
For the first time in Xu Jingwang’s stream, the audience found themselves experiencing the rare, luxurious feeling of being genuinely “roused and impassioned.”
At first, netizens felt that the opponent’s fighting style was somewhat familiar, but they couldn’t confirm who it was – after all, the two sides hadn’t actually engaged in combat yet.
As the livestream’s popularity gradually increased, members of the analysis group arrived one after another. After reviewing the records, they guessed that it was Cheng Feng.
There were very few pilots capable of achieving and sustaining such mecha speeds – you could count them on your fingers. One of them had already finished their match, another was hosting their own livestream, and the most likely candidate for the remaining one was Cheng Feng.
Netizens left enthusiastic comments expressing their appreciation.
“Cheng Feng actually didn’t swear – she’s so well-mannered. This is the first time Xu Jingwang has played a match without getting cursed out by his opponent, right? So grateful.”
“How do you know she didn’t curse? Maybe she perfectly avoided San Yao’s filtered words and dodged the warning system? And look, she’s standing still – she’s definitely mentally composing some kind of beautiful blessing.”
“I used to really hate this kind of playstyle, but because the opponent is Cheng Feng, I’ve fallen in love with it for the first time. So this is what perspective-taking feels like. [Enlightened]”
“No way – she’s running into someone from our group in her very first match? Her luck isn’t great. Can she hold steady?”
“So… the two of them standing there like statues – are they brewing some kind of storm? Are they just going to stand like this until the match ends?”
…
Xu Jingwang flexed his fingers, carefully massaging the key muscles to relieve the soreness in his hands, while keeping a constant eye on the movements on the map.
The chase in the first half of the match hadn’t done him any favors – in fact, his condition was even worse than Cheng Feng’s.
Cheng Feng’s movement speed was faster than he had anticipated. Several nerve-wracking near misses had made him break out in a cold sweat from tension. Still, his rich experience allowed him to maintain his own rhythm and gradually begin to break down Cheng Feng’s composure.
When Cheng Feng moved again, her demeanor had clearly changed – because he could hear the rumble of cannon fire and the crash of collapsing buildings in the distance.
This was the first step of most contestants starting to lose it. A more accurate description would be “impotant rage.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Xu Jingwang’s mouth. He thought to himself that she really was just a first-year junior – even after a year of training, she was still too young.
When you’re dealing with a cheap, slippery playstyle, the moment you feel the urge to lash out in frustration is when the nightmare truly begins.
Xu Jingwang piloted his mecha, leisurely leading the way ahead.
And sure enough, Cheng Feng followed.
This time, Cheng Feng’s pursuit speed slowed down, but at the same time, she became visibly more frantic. It seemed that the two-minute pause earlier had led her to draw the wrong conclusions from her reflection.
Whenever she caught a faint glimpse of Xu Jingwang’s shadow, Cheng Feng would unleash barrages from her high-damage weapons, trying to use the collapsing buildings to hamper or restrict his movements.
Xu Jingwang observed carefully. This kind of reckless behavior not only failed to have any positive effect but actually eased some of the strain on his fingers.
And even after five minutes of venting her fury like this, Cheng Feng’s anger still hadn’t subsided. The entire map was left in utter chaos – debris flying everywhere, and the bodies of NPCs scattered across the ground.
The notification that the match was about to end flashed persistently in the top-right corner.
Xu Jingwang kept glancing at the ticking clock. The strange feeling in his chest grew stronger – a sense that something beyond his control was happening.
In summary, he didn’t believe Cheng Feng was the kind of person who would be easily swayed by her emotions or lose her rationality so quickly. Although her usual fighting style was fierce and violent – emphasizing speed, ruthlessness, and precision, sometimes even taking risky near-miss chances to break through head-on –
In reality, every move she made was the result of careful consideration and calculation. What seemed like reckless, aggressive decisions were actually made from a calm state of mind.
At her core, she was someone who was both uninhibited and restrained.
What worried Xu Jingwang was whether Cheng Feng was using this act to interfere with his judgment, or if she had some other deeper plan in mind.
But there wasn’t much time left in the match. With neither mecha destroyed, the system would have to determine the final result based on the level of destruction to the city’s buildings and NPCs. The way Cheng Feng was fighting now was practically self-destruction.
Or maybe – she thought she could kill him, the one she hadn’t been able to catch the entire match, in the remaining five minutes?
Even talking in one’s sleep couldn’t be more absurd than that.
Xu Jingwang couldn’t figure it out, so he decided to push aside all distractions and focus on his circling strategy, counting down the time as he waited for victory to arrive.
Time remaining: 5 minutes and 38 seconds
Under Cheng Feng’s pursuit, Xu Jingwang’s mecha turned a corner at the edge of the map and returned to a street he had passed through before.
Only upon retracing his steps did he realize that the map had been damaged far more severely than he had anticipated.
He hadn’t gone far when he saw the main road ahead blocked by the collapsed body of a high-rise building that had broken in half.
The road was still passable. However, to save time on crossing the obstacle, Xu Jingwang chose to turn.
Cheng Feng followed closely behind.
It was as if the scene was replaying itself – the two were once again locked in a stalemate.
But as time went on, the expressions on both sides gradually darkened.
[4 minutes and 27 seconds]
Xu Jingwang’s fingers were nearing their limit. He could no longer operate with the same ease and precision as in the earlier stages. When pressing the directional keys, he relied more on muscle memory – his brain could no longer form a clear connection with the parts below his wrists.
That wasn’t all. With the mecha moving at high speed, he didn’t dare look away or blink carelessly.
Having forced his eyelids wide open for so long, his pupils were now threaded with fine, dense red lines from dryness. Every moving light and shadow appeared blurred, and the various indistinct outlines formed a hazy, uncertain color image.
To make matters worse, large chunks of broken building debris now littered the road, lying right across the middle of the street and increasing the difficulty of piloting. As he dodged them, he silently cursed Cheng Feng’s maliciousness.
In the mere four and a half minutes left, every second stretched into a terrifying length.
This should have been the stage where the defensive, reactive player takes control of the match’s direction. And indeed, he was the one leading the overall pace of the game. Yet, Xu Jingwang felt an unfamiliar sensation – an illusion that he was truly fleeing for his life.
It was as if he were merely a lowly pawn placed at the front of the board. Not only did he lack the initiative, but at the slightest misstep, he would be swallowed up by the danger behind him.
The moment this damned thought surfaced, the road ahead of him suddenly felt long and ethereal.
He stole a glance at the mini-map and was startled to find that Cheng Feng was no longer following him. Instead, she was one street over, keeping pace with him.
He had no idea what she was planning, but the presence of the cold sweat on his temples instantly became overwhelming. Years of training and experience told him this was not an optimistic development.
[3 minutes and 38 seconds]
Netizens had already begun celebrating Xu Jingwang’s victory in advance.
“There’s no chance of a comeback, folks. Cheng Feng has destroyed such a large area of the map, and she’s almost emptied her arsenal. There’s basically no hope left. The last person who could keep up with Xu Jingwang is now serving in the expeditionary force.”
“Is Cheng Feng going to lose? Her bold declaration of 150 consecutive wins is ending at just 30? At least she could have held on a little longer. [Shrug]”
“Just thirty.”
“Fun fact: The reason it’s easier to break a win streak between 30 and 50 matches is because of San Yao’s matchmaking system – on average, you’ll encounter a top-tier player every 30 matches. Like in this one.”
“Being able to last the full 30 minutes counts as a complete effort. Xu Jingwang didn’t disappoint me – he’s still that man you can’t catch even if you had eight legs.”
“I hereby declare that Cheng Feng’s good luck ends here. The analysis group that just opened yesterday can be disbanded too. All those people staying up late to discuss, only for it to be a wasted effort – I feel heartbroken for you.”
And at that moment, Xu Jingwang’s path was once again cut off.
He slowed down slightly, diverting a sliver of his attention to check Cheng Feng’s position. At the same time, he marshaled every still-active brain cell, straining to think through the purpose behind Cheng Feng’s earlier large-scale destruction of the buildings.
A torrent of complex, overwhelming information flooded into his brain. The processing center in his mind couldn’t handle it all at once, yet he had to complete the analysis in the blink of an eye and make a decision.
Should he climb over it, or quickly take a detour?
It seemed his body had already made the choice for him. The moment Xu Jingwang felt his fingers press the keys, his character’s line of sight lifted. The mecha scaled the broken building, transformed, and then landed heavily.
He was distracted. He knew it.
But still, he couldn’t stop himself from searching the radar map for Cheng Feng’s cursor.
[2 minutes and 49 seconds]
Cheng Feng was closing in.
This person – she truly was a rational madman!
Xu Jingwang deeply understood the meaning of that contradictory description.
Using the destruction of the map to create obstacles that slowed him down, introducing unpredictable factors to distract his focus. Meticulously arranging every detail within her reach, waiting until he realized he had fallen into a trap – only to find himself trapped by extreme fatigue with no way to break free… and then gambling everything on the final two minutes to decide the outcome.
Xu Jingwang let out a long breath. As he watched the distance between the two mechas shrink ceaselessly, he found himself slowly growing calm instead.
[1 minute and 50 seconds]
Xu Jingwang tried to steer out of this high-disaster area that Cheng Feng had devastated. He raised the chassis and switched the mecha’s form to safely navigate the uneven terrain.
But then, an error occurred during input – his finger struck one extra key – causing the mecha’s center of gravity to tilt sharply to the side, scraping against a building by the roadside.
Under the impact of the high-speed momentum, both the mecha and the building sustained severe damage. The mecha’s body, driven by inertia, completely lost control. Red warning messages popped up all over the data monitoring panel.
Seizing the moment, Xu Jingwang wiped the sweat sticking to his eyelids and waited for the mecha to stabilize slightly before using the thrusters to restart.
But before he could adjust, Cheng Feng’s artillery fire had already arrived from the adjacent street.
What followed was a barrage of explosions – dust and smoke billowing, sparks flying everywhere.
Xu Jingwang’s livestream view could no longer capture the specifics of the battle. All that remained was a chaotic, spinning blur, accompanied by an indistinct roar in the background. The final scene of the match was a picture of utter helplessness.
[1 minute and 01 second]
The match was declared over.
The livestream switched to an omniscient third-person view. A line of radiant, gleaming golden font flashed across the screen, and fine specks of golden light drifted down like dust, gilding the black outer shell of the mecha.
Cheng Feng revealed her now-empty arsenal. Even though her expression couldn’t be seen, her arrogance at that moment was unmistakable. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to strike a pose over her opponent – she was directly teleported to her next match.
Xu Jingwang removed his equipment and immediately canceled his next match reservation. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled weakly, utterly drained.
He had never been this exhausted in his entire life.
After resting for a moment, he grabbed the edge of the table and stood up. Looking down, he noticed his fingers trembling slightly, with a faint ache in his joints – clearly a sign that he had exceeded his physical limits.
The cost outweighed the gain. Absolutely absurd.
A long-game strategist like him had actually been worn down to this extent.
The next time he saw Cheng Feng, he’d be taking a detour.
