The next day, the dark clouds of the technical revision still hadn’t lifted.
Cheng Feng hadn’t paid much attention before, but after netizens pointed it out, she noticed that students in the manual operations class had been in low spirits lately.
Completely different from the sensor mech pilots next door, who were still riding high from their training victory, they had lost their joy a long time ago.
After finishing her Command B-series required course, Cheng Feng headed to the classroom related to the manual operations major. She could hardly believe that these melancholic kids in front of her used to be tough solo soldiers.
Sitting in the classroom, she looked around, observing everyone’s faces.
There were actually many people here she didn’t know yet. Although it had been over a month since the semester started, most of her activities had been centered around the Command Department. Remembering how passionately Mr. Kong had tried to persuade her to join the manual operations major, Cheng Feng couldn’t help but feel a brief twinge of guilt.
Amid the murmuring crowd, Mr. Kong walked into the classroom with an optical computer tucked under his arm.
Standing at 1.9 meters tall, with deliberately heavy footsteps and a perpetually stern face, his every appearance sent chills down everyone’s spine.
This time, instead of starting with a reprimand, he first paced around the classroom, then instructed a student by the window, “Close the window.”
Everyone sensed something was off.
“Well… I have an announcement to make.”
His expression was rarely this relaxed, but the loosening of his muscles made him look like he was delivering a final farewell.
Before he could finish the first sentence, a student was already clutching their head and wailing, “Nooo!”
Mr. Kong launched into a tirade without mercy. “No what? Are you scared? As military cadets, you’re afraid of something this trivial? Have you grasped the essence of the matter? Do you want to be a nobody your whole life?”
Then, without giving them a chance to refuse, he dropped the bombshell. “In November, manual mechs will undergo a comprehensive tech revision. You all know about it by now.”
The word “comprehensive” shattered whatever faint hope they had left. Last time, the term used for a major tech update was still “minor adjustments.”
Seeing the bitter smiles on their faces, Mr. Kong raised a hand and pointed at the ceiling, saying, “Recently, the rooftop has been heavily guarded. I suggest you don’t get any bright ideas.”
No one appreciated his humor.
Mr. Kong curled his lip and offered some uncharacteristically clumsy comfort. “Honestly, the tech revision won’t affect you much. With your mediocre skills, there’s not far to fall. You’re already scraping the bottom. This is a perfect chance to ditch some of those clever tricks you’ve picked up. Some of your combos – let me just say, I could pull them off more smoothly banging on the keyboard with my foot.”
The students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their expressions growing darker.
Was the blow not harsh enough? Did they really need to be hit this hard? Was it necessary?
Mr. Kong sighed. “Look at the juniors and seniors next door – now that’s what I call tragic. Their adaptation period isn’t long enough, so they’ll probably miss out on this year’s league again. And after graduation, it’s uncertain whether they can smoothly secure internships in the military. It’s just their bad luck to run into a major tech revision this year.”
In reality, it wasn’t as dire as he made it sound. The juniors and seniors had caught wind of the tech changes much earlier. After signing up for the military university league, they’d have the chance to train at military bases, where they could get hands-on experience with the updated mechs and new code, not to mention guidance from professional military personnel to help them correct their techniques. They were already ahead of the freshmen in terms of preparation.
But Mr. Kong understood human nature all too well. Nothing made your own situation seem less miserable than someone else being worse off.
After saying this, he glanced in Cheng Feng’s direction, worried she might be feeling down, and quickly added, “Of course, when it comes to exceptional people, I believe they can excel no matter what challenges they face. There’s no need to worry too much.”
Cheng Feng’s expression remained utterly blank.
Mr. Kong pulled up a detailed diagram on the screen and took a barely noticeable breath before saying, “Over the next few days, I’ll be walking you through the key structural changes to mechs in this tech revision. Get your notebooks out!”
Cheng Feng’s understanding of the tech revision was still a bit fuzzy, but after listening to Mr. Kong break down the new mech designs, she thought they actually looked pretty impressive.
As she walked out of the teaching building, Shen Dan, having caught wind of the news, sent her a private message.
Love and Peace: Is the tech revision for real?
Ye Guicheng: Yeah, it’s real.
Love and Peace: Then I’m screwed. [Annoyed]
Cheng Feng had no idea why Shen Dan thought she was screwed.
Actually, had she ever not been screwed?
By the time Cheng Feng got back to the dorm with her bag, Shen Dan was already sprawled on the sofa like a lump of mud, lying on her side, lazily swiping her finger across the optical computer screen every now and then.
Cheng Feng set down her bag and returned to the living room, picking a spot bathed in sunlight to carefully arrange the fake feathers on the little owl resting on her lap.
Not long after, her two roommates came back. After lounging around and playing on their light brains for a while, they finally noticed something was off with Shen Dan. Cautiously, they asked, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Shen Dan lifted her eyelids and replied gloomily, “Manual mechs are getting a tech revision.”
“Huh? This year?” one roommate exclaimed. “That’s brutal, isn’t it?”
The other roommate chimed in, “What’s brutal? Aren’t you from our Command Department? This fire isn’t exactly burning you, is it?”
The first girl turned to glance at Cheng Feng and noticed that the person at the center of the storm was actually far more composed than Shen Dan. Curious, she asked, “Wait, are you really good at manual mechs too?”
Shen Dan replied, “I can hold my own against anyone, more or less.”
“Wow,” the oblivious roommate marveled. “That’s impressive.”
A vein pulsed faintly on Cheng Feng’s forehead as she silently thought, That “more or less” probably wasn’t just an exaggeration.
Life really couldn’t be more real.
…
With the tech revision now set in stone, students in the manual operations major found themselves suddenly elevated to a position of great privilege, their status skyrocketing by more than ten notches in an instant.
Their fellow students showered them with kindness, understanding, tolerance, and encouragement.
Even the automated meal-serving robots in the cafeteria, after scanning their cards, would add an extra piece of meat to their plates. And those once-arrogant sensor mech pilots were now willing to swallow their pride and address them as “boss.”
Typically, only national treasures were treated with such reverence.
This golden age lasted until November, when San Yao was set to release the update announcement.
All manual operations majors gathered in the computer lab ahead of time, waiting for the update prompt. The moment it appeared, they logged into their accounts to examine the latest version of the code library.
Cheng Feng scrolled through the list, carefully reviewing every line from start to finish. She flexed her fingers, following the rhythm as she typed out the code.
Over the past decade-plus, Cheng Feng had trained day in and day out, many of the codes and operations becoming second nature to her. Whenever an image formed in her mind, her fingers would press the keys faster than her conscious thought could keep up.
As a result, adapting to the new code proved more difficult than she had anticipated.
And this wasn’t even real combat – just the process of confirming the new code combinations.
After failing several times in a row, Cheng Feng grew frustrated. She grabbed her right index finger and squeezed the joint hard. After a few deep breaths, she suppressed her anger and started over from the beginning.
Shen Dan had originally wanted to observe Cheng Feng’s approach to see how she planned to adapt to the tech revision. But after standing beside her for less than five minutes and hearing her click her tongue in irritation three times, she sensed trouble.
This roommate of hers seemed even more on edge than the average student, teetering on the verge of an explosion. To avoid getting caught in the blast, Shen Dan quickly made her retreat.
Within half an hour of the update, the San Yao forum was flooded with complaints.
“Congratulations in advance to manual mechs for bowing out of history! This is practically guaranteed to trend!”
“At this rate, within a decade, the manual mech major will be phased out by every military academy.”
“Manual mech (×), military logistics transporter (√). Guys, stop torturing yourselves. Since you’re going to be competing with Blue Collar graduates for jobs later anyway, you might as well learn to drive an excavator now. Work experience matters these days!”
“LMAO, this mech isn’t even designed for humans to pilot.”
“I’m totally confused – they even changed the code for the basic rear-press maneuver. How are we supposed to fight like this?”
“What about that legendary ‘Light of Manual Mechs’ from before? Can they still shine now? How about lighting the way for the rest of us?”
“Congrats in advance to Cheng Feng for becoming the ‘Light of Command’!”
“Get the designers themselves to pilot this thing. I just want to ask: are you trying to challenge the limits of human capability?”
The teaching faculties at various military universities were even more anxious.
So far, only a handful of students had progressed to the test-piloting phase, while the majority were still struggling to memorize the new code. However, the test pilots’ performances were far from ideal – they were crashing in all sorts of ways. In the most basic obstacle-crossing drills, their results couldn’t even reach a quarter of their previous scores, an utterly dismal sight, let alone figuring out the new mech models.
Although they knew this was an inevitable stage after every major tech revision, the instructors in related fields couldn’t help but feel a gnawing worry. After clocking half an hour on the stopwatch without witnessing a single prodigy emerge, a chill settled in their hearts.
Caught in the torment of ice and fire, Mr. Kong couldn’t resist reaching out to his prized student.
Mr. Kong: How are you feeling?
Mr. Kong: Just memorize the code for now. Once you get more practice in combat, you’ll get used to it.
Mr. Kong: Do you want to come for a test pilot first?
The last message was rejected, with a notification showing that he had been blocked by Cheng Feng.
The 1.9-meter-tall man let out a pitiful sigh.
