Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 132

Shen Dan’s aspirations were far too grand. But all her wild and fanciful imaginings brought her joy, and Cheng Feng felt that, in a way, she was also someone easily satisfied.

Cheng Feng’s life was not nearly as magnificent as everyone imagined. Titles like “pioneer” or “trailblazer” didn’t give her any combat boost whatsoever. Tedious, repetitive training and monotonous, similar analyses were the true mainstays of her daily routine.

As for the changes in online opinions – their impact on her was nowhere near as significant as Jiang Linxia’s plummeting status within the group chat.

At the very least, Jiang Linxia, with a “we’re all in this together” attitude, enthusiastically provided Cheng Feng with plenty of non-public candidate analysis materials. Though they were personally written by him, their accuracy remained to be assessed.

And whenever Xiang Yunjian and Xin Kuang saw him looking dejected, they’d send Cheng Feng red packets when they were in a good mood. Even Yan Shen, on the grounds of “maintaining a harmonious group atmosphere,” gave her high praise.

It was truly a win-win situation – with Cheng Feng winning many times over, unilaterally.

But Cheng Feng’s biggest gain over these past two days was discovering a new Easter egg feature in San Yao. She had no idea when the programmer guy had quietly snuck in an update.

Manual-operated mechs had never allowed appearance modifications – all components had to remain absolutely uniform – but now, among the non-default accessory combinations, a feature for engraving external accessories had been added.

As long as a player customizes their mech assembly and secures a victory in an official competition – proving that the combination is practically viable – they can choose to activate the engraving feature, and the configuration will be shared across the entire platform.

The same configuration can only be engraved once.

The engraving is limited to four characters, and the font is very small – attached to the corner of the replaceable component. Unless zoomed in, it’s basically illegible.

The feature might seem flashy and gimmicky, but the psychological comfort and sense of honor it brings are immense.

The assembly Cheng Feng had used against Jiang Linxia was approved for activation, making her the first student on San Yao to unlock this feature.

She thought about it all night and finally wrote the name “Ye Jing” on the tag.

She hoped her father could see her progress and, together with her, claim the MVP.

Ye Jing had never won the league’s golden trophy. The marks he had left behind in this place – the league he loved so deeply – were always too few.

Cheng Feng wished there could be a little more.

After logging back in, the new mech body now bore sharply engraved characters with strong, vigorous strokes.

Whether it was a special adjustment made by San Yao’s art team just for her, or a design generated by San Yao’s smart beautification feature, the engraving was deeply cut. Around the characters were scratch marks resembling falling leaves, as if floating above the name “Ye Jing,” giving the entire icon a layered, timeworn depth.

Cheng Feng lowered her head and admired it for a moment, then typed a few lines of code to test it out. She immediately felt that the mech with its new name was distinctly different – even the posture of drawing its blade carried an extra edge of killing intent. The whole mech seemed fiercer, exuding an unyielding, sharp aura that brooked no offense.

Unfortunately, her next opponent wasn’t suited for this configuration.

The further the tournament progressed, the longer the matchmaking time became for players – partly to give students sufficient rest, and partly to allow for focused promotion.

Two days later, the fifth-round roster was officially announced. Cheng Feng’s next opponent was Yu Sihe.

Cheng Feng looked up his information online. He was a third-year student, specializing in piloting the heavy mech “Liba.” From the interview videos, his height and build were both average, and his personality leaned toward the steady, introverted side – he stood upright throughout the entire interview with no unnecessary fidgeting.

In the latter half of the interview video, Cheng Feng caught a glimpse of Xin Kuang.

Xin Kuang’s assessment of Yu Sihe was: “His fighting style is orthodox, but he occasionally pulls off something unexpected.”

The CFO’s words were still highly credible. It was just that those few words contained half good news and half bad news – rather thought-provoking. Especially the word “occasionally,” which was used quite exquisitely.

Cheng Feng looked up his past battle videos and discovered that Yu Sihe, despite appearing very reserved on the surface, actually had a passion for sharing.

His personal page was filled with a large number of training materials, and Xin Kuang’s guidance to him even had a dedicated category of its own.

Cheng Feng skimmed through it roughly and could more or less get the picture. The so-called “unexpected” meant that this guy, always wearing an honest and unassuming face, would periodically pull off a sneak attack – making his opponents exclaim that the world was full of treachery.

Cheng Feng could actually understand it. Heavy mechs had high defense and abundant arsenals, but they were clumsy in movement and didn’t have an advantage in one-on-one duels – they were more suited for support roles. Adding a touch of exquisite acting at the right moment could bridge the gap between them and create an opportunity to break the stalemate.

The only problem was that other contestants didn’t have eyes that could see through appearances.

Cheng Feng was confident she certainly wouldn’t fall for it – after all, she was that calm and wise.

The late autumn weather was cold and overcast, especially with a recent inexplicably fierce gale blowing through. The number of students doing morning exercises in the residential area dropped sharply overnight, with most switching to the indoor gymnasium.

Cheng Feng had booked her session for six in the morning. After finishing, she grabbed breakfast and returned to her dorm. Sure enough, new files had already been uploaded in the analysis group chat. The details were neatly labeled with “Yu Sihe’s” name, but they were all raw footage or highlight reels – no systematic analysis reports.

It seemed Yu Sihe wasn’t particularly well-known among the military university students – no analysis group to leech off of.

Fortunately, the materials were categorized quite well. Cheng Feng clicked to download them one by one, planning to compile her own analysis. She also took a glance at the messages in the group chat.

“Guys, is sneak-attacking a talent? I went into Yu Sihe’s videos with a nitpicking mindset, but I didn’t guess a single one of his timings correctly. [Good grief]”

“That kind of naturally flawless acting is already a professional tactic. Yu Sihe’s side gig must be magic – his visual misdirection is excellent.”

“His demeanor is too rigid and proper. I always feel like he wouldn’t deceive anyone -I’m just too naive.”

“Yu Sihe’s equipment-switching speed is also very fast. Liba is so chunky, yet he makes it look a little nimble when he pilots it. His muscle control must be really strong.”

“Chunky? Every bit of ‘flesh’ on a heavy mech is solid power! Pull out any piece of it and it can snipe off an opponent’s iron head!”

Cheng Feng’s eyes caught two key terms: muscle control and visual misdirection. She fell into thought for a moment, then went back to building her own model.

Meanwhile, the teaching and research departments of various universities, along with students within the major, were all keeping a wait-and-see attitude.

Although various written analysis reports had offered affirmation from different angles, most people still preferred to see practical results realized. After all, the professional caliber and combat experience of those top-tier experts were, in themselves, an unrealistic cheat code – the vast majority of examinees were shut out beyond their barriers.

What everyone really wanted to know was whether Cheng Feng’s analysis-based approach had universal applicability. When facing opponents she had no prior training experience with, relying solely on short-term data analysis, could she still deliver a performance as outstanding as she had in the match against Jiang Linxia?

How much of a boost would fundamental individual analysis give to a pilot’s capabilities? How much room for development was there? And how should sensory-mech pilots respond?

All these questions still lacked effective proof, and countless eyes were fixed on the match between Cheng Feng and Yu Sihe, hoping to find answers.

But to be honest, most people weren’t too optimistic.

From the roster announcement to the official match, there were only two and a half days. Trying to complete data analysis, devise strategic countermeasures, and develop targeted conditioned reflexes through actual practice within that timeframe – it was as impractical as asking a student to adapt to manual control modifications in two days.

No one knew how Cheng Feng would adjust.

Mr. Kong gave Cheng Feng some suggestions on mech accessories and compiled the corresponding code for her. He didn’t dare interfere too much with Cheng Feng’s ideas, letting her play things out as she wished.

After all, she was still young – for Cheng Feng, even trial and error held immense value.

There were also a few other examinees in the manual control major who needed to compete. Although they weren’t his students, he still had to assist the teaching and research department in providing full support.

On the day of the official match, Mr. Kong seemed to have had a change of heart. For the first time, he didn’t go to the exam hall to see Cheng Feng off as she boarded her mech. Instead, he grabbed his optical computer and ran over to the Command Department’s office, unreasonably commandeering Mr. Luo’s workstation and forcing him to watch the match together.

Mr. Luo was getting on in years and was fond of health preservation – otherwise, if he’d taken off his glasses, he’d have definitely thrown a couple of punches at this man.

Mr. Kong, completely oblivious to Mr. Luo’s magnanimity, kept chattering away beside him, severely disrupting his viewing experience.

One moment he said, “Human joys and sorrows may not be shared, but I think human behavior can still be understood in common. After all, we all use the same set of textbooks – habits and characteristics get passed down, right?”

The next moment, utterly shameless, he added, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to have an in-depth exchange with you Command Department folks for a long time. We’re all coders – at our core, we’re the same, right?”

“Wrong,” Mr. Luo said with solid reasoning. “Shen Dan proved that we’re not the same.”

Mr. Kong clicked his tongue. “There’s only one Shen Dan in this world! She’s an anomaly!”

He was about to continue, but Mr. Luo raised his hand and pressed downward, cutting him off. “Watch the match first.”

The viewing equipment at Mr. Luo’s end was custom-built by Command Department. The enlarged screen displayed a total of five camera angles.

At the center was San Yao’s omnipotent god’s-eye view.

On the left, top and bottom, were Cheng Feng’s data panel and combat perspective.

On the right were the corresponding camera feeds for Yu Sihe.

Mr. Kong had been about to compliment them – that the Command Department folks must have three eyes, arranging left-center-right so neatly and distributing attention so evenly. But he caught a glimpse of Mr. Luo’s expression and wisely shut his mouth.

Amid the flowing play of light and color, Cheng Feng had already assembled her components.

The scene transitioned.

The opening of this match was much more subdued.

Heavy mechs couldn’t run, so Yu Sihe stood stiffly upright at the spawn point, waiting for Cheng Feng to arrive.

Through the magnified view, Cheng Feng saw her opponent’s relaxed stance and thought – just based on first impressions – he really did seem quite docile. No wonder he could lull people into letting their guard down.

Yu Sihe spotted her arrival and sent her a greeting message.

“Hello. This area is pretty empty. How about we switch to a more suitable venue for fighting?”

He raised his hand politely as he said this.

Cheng Feng suddenly decelerated, and the cannon mounted on her left shoulder -already unlocked – slid into firing position by inertia.

Yu Sihe immediately straightened his arm, revealing his weapons bay already open on his flank.

Neither party hesitated to press the trigger.

Two scorching trails of fire intersected in midair, radiating the gleam of kindred spirits. Amidst the thickening smell of gunpowder, the match kicked off with a thunderous explosion.

How embarrassing.

Cheng Feng charged out through the billowing smoke and let out a sigh.

She was, after all, an honest and kind-hearted person.