Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 58

Asking Cheng Feng to start a livestream was the smartest decision Mr. Kong felt he had made in recent times.

The next day, when the teaching and research team pulled students for conversations, the spirits of these young saplings of the motherland had already taken a dramatic turn for the better.

Previously, they had always asked him about training techniques and piloting mechs with anxious, worried tones. Now, they didn’t even want to chat much – politely hinting the whole time that they were short on time and wanted to get back to studying hard, to lay a solid foundation for building up the motherland.

Ambitious and ruthlessly focused. Mr. Kong was very pleased. Cheng Feng deserved the lion’s share of the credit.

That adorable Cheng Feng – really, aside from having a knack for unconventional approaches and occasionally testing the limits of his heart health, everything else was just perfect.

Over the next two days, because the livestream had been such a standout success and some students who had missed it strongly requested a repeat, Cheng Feng – under Mr. Kong’s affectionate coaxing – continued the activity.

Cheng Feng had been somewhat resistant to livestreaming at first, feeling that her clumsy, stumbling progress was neither heroic nor impressive, and that letting people see it would get in the way of her cultivating a cool, sharp image.

But the UFU students were the ones in need of her help, and with Mr. Kong deliberately keeping them in check, everyone behaved with remarkable patience.

Across the internet, these young people had more or less inherited their seniors’ gift for effortless socializing. By the third day, some upperclassmen had even put together a dedicated cheer squad, flooding the comments section with over-the-top praise that was more enthusiastic than heartfelt.

Cheng Feng was deeply satisfied.

Her recent happiness had all come from livestreaming.

On the evening of the third day, the publicity department of San Yao Company sent Cheng Feng an interview invitation through the official channel of UFU.

Mr. Kong had to admit – he had made a mistake.

He thought it might be because he was getting on in years, or perhaps it was simply that his brain cells had been dying off at an alarming rate lately, thanks to those exasperating little troublemakers he called students, leaving him with prematurely failing memory.

It was such a small matter. He had thought several times about passing the message along, but ended up putting it off until the next afternoon, when he was eating in the cafeteria after a full day of teaching. It was only when he overheard students at the next table talking about an event San Yao was hosting that the memory suddenly came rushing back. He quickly pulled out his optical computer and dialed Cheng Feng.

“Don’t be too nervous. There’s been some technical refinement on manual-operated mechs recently, and San Yao wants to find a few representative figures to do a promotional campaign. Just go and casually share some insights or experiences – that kind of thing. Of course, with this type of interview, there’s a chance it could bring in extra funding for the school, so try to come across as outstanding…”

When Mr. Kong said the word “outstanding,” his words suddenly stumbled. He belatedly realized that applying this word to Cheng Feng would most likely be an exceedingly dangerous thing. Not even bothering to swallow the food in his mouth, he hastily added in a serious tone, “Not too outstanding, though! You need to keep a low profile! Staying low-key is a traditional virtue of our nation!”

Cheng Feng: “Mhm…” This group of people often forgot that she wasn’t actually from the Alliance.

Mr. Kong pulled up several documents from the backend and sent them all to Cheng Feng in one go. “These are the questions they’ve prepared. Take a look and have them delete any you don’t want to answer. San Yao usually does interviews around noon, but there’s not enough time now, so it’ll have to be pushed back. Let me know what classes you have tonight – I’ll request leave for you.”

“I already made plans with Zhong Yijie for tonight.” Cheng Feng had every item on her schedule clearly memorized. “I need to have a match with him first. I won’t be able to go for the interview until after 8 p.m.”

“Ah?” Mr. Kong’s chopsticks trembled in his hand as he finally remembered this other matter. “You still have a match with Zhong Yijie?”

Cheng Feng said, “It’s not really a match.” Nothing so formal as to warrant the word “match.”

She was sitting in her own dorm room at the moment. Glancing back at the door, she lowered her voice into the microphone and asked, “Do I need to wear makeup? Can I use a beauty filter for an online interview? Can I adjust my height?”

Mr. Kong sounded very hesitant on the other end, asking vaguely, “Do you want to postpone it?”

“Postpone what? Postpone my hair?” Cheng Feng checked herself in the small mirror beside her. “I think my hair looks pretty good right now. It’d be even better if I could wear a wig, though.”

Mr. Kong was confused. “What? I’m asking – do you want to postpone the match with Zhong Yijie?”

Cheng Feng put down the hand that was touching her hair and asked, “Why?”

Mr. Kong’s main concern was that it might affect Cheng Feng’s mindset.

She had been streaming continuously on the internal network for three days – what she was learning, her skill level, her preferred tactics – all of it was completely exposed.

How could she compete when her hand was laid bare?

Cheng Feng cared so much about winning. If she accidentally lost, she might very well have a mental breakdown during the interview.

He fell silent, and yet Cheng Feng understood his meaning, asking dangerously, “Are you looking down on me?”

“No, no, no!” Mr. Kong shook his head frantically, his tone rising and falling emphatically as he defended his innocence. “How could I!”

Cheng Feng was only half-convinced and ended the call.

At 7 p.m., Cheng Feng logged on after her shower, and Zhong Yijie was already online.

He was dashing back and forth in front of the massive screen in San Yao’s virtual plaza, huddled in intense discussion with several UFU seniors. When he spotted Cheng Feng, he was the first to raise a hand in greeting. “Good evening! Before we have our match, I have to be upfront with you – I’ve been following your livestreams the past few days. I’ve already figured out all your tactics.”

Cheng Feng was unfazed. “Oh.”

“It kind of feels like I’m taking advantage of you.” Zhong Yijie’s fair, boyish face twisted with hesitation for a moment, but in the end, he generously offered, “To make it fair, how about I fight you with one hand tied behind my back, or maybe I’ll give up one of my weapon arsenals? What do you think?”

Cheng Feng studied him with an exceptionally complicated look. After a moment of thought, she didn’t refuse, but simply raised one eyebrow and pressed for confirmation. “Really?”

“Of course! I am your senior, after all.” Zhong Yijie tucked his hands into his pockets, his expression steady and inscrutable as he said, “Junior, you’re pretty good. But your rush-style tactics rely on surprise. Once someone figures them out, it’s hard to make them shine. A truly good tactical system should be persistent and versatile.”

He gave a faint smile. “But I believe you have a bright future ahead.”

…

Generally speaking, the release cycle for personal interviews is very short. The interview can be found on the official website on the second or third day after it’s conducted.

The content usually consists of standard interview conversations, evaluations from teachers, interspersed with a few clips from matches and footage of daily interactions with classmates.

Since the interviewees were all students, and San Yao had always been fairly reliable in their work, they wouldn’t include anything inappropriate or controversial. Any potentially problematic wording that might spark online debate would also be proactively flagged by the journalists for removal. As a result, Mr. Kong didn’t get involved in the later review process.

Once the final cut was ready, a colleague from the Political Education Office gave it a quick look, felt that something was vaguely off, but since the content wasn’t negative – in fact, it was quite interesting – they went ahead and approved San Yao’s editing plan.

At noon on the third day, Cheng Feng’s first personal interview video was successfully released on San Yao’s official website.

After finishing his meal, Mr. Kong returned to the office for his lunch break. Upon hearing the news, he immediately adjusted his seat into recliner mode, put on his headphones, and leisurely opened the webpage to watch.

The first scene of Cheng Feng’s personal interview did not feature Cheng Feng at all -instead, it was Mr. Kong’s face, which instantly commanded a sense of awe.

Mr. Kong was startled at the sudden sight, never expecting to appear at the beginning of the video.

He hit pause, stared at himself for a long moment, and couldn’t help letting out a disdainful sigh.

Why did he look like some grim reaper demanding a life? Was he really that ugly?

In the video, the reporter calmly asked, “What kind of student do you think Cheng Feng is? Just a general description is fine.”

Mr. Kong heard his own measured reply.

“Cheng Feng is a freshman in the manual operations program this year who has delivered stunning performances in every aspect. I mean this across the entire Alliance, not just at our university. She is hardworking, conscientious, meticulous, and blessed with exceptional talent. I might even go so far as to say that she represents a future direction for the development of manual-operated mechs in the Alliance.”

The reporter responded, “It seems everyone has placed very high hopes on Cheng Feng. And indeed, her performance during this round of technical refinement has been particularly outstanding.”

Based on experience from previous years, this kind of mutual commercial flattery wouldn’t last too long, nor would Mr. Kong’s unsightly face appear for too long either.

Yet the camera didn’t move away. San Yao seemed excessively fond of him, continuing to air footage related to him.

The reporter asked, “What kind of positive impact do you think this round of technical refinement on hairstyles can have on the development of manual-operated mechs?”

Mr. Kong lowered his head in thought for a moment, gave a slight shrug of his shoulders to adjust his stance, and said seriously, “The performance of manual-operated mechs has indeed improved significantly this time, but the students are currently unable to leverage these advantages of the mechs.”

The reporter asked, “Not even Cheng Feng?”

“Cheng Feng probably can’t either,” Mr. Kong said. “Performance improvements aren’t always positive – take speed enhancements, for example. Everyone has an upper limit of acceptance. Beyond that limit, the mech pilot can’t maintain safe control, will feel uncomfortable themselves, and is prone to mistakes. Even if Cheng Feng is a genius with a high ceiling, she still needs a long, rigorous training process. It’s not something that can be achieved overnight.”

The scene shifted abruptly, cutting to the match footage between Cheng Feng and Zhong Yijie.

The black mech darted through the map like lightning, its form so fast that the existing perspective couldn’t even fully capture its movements. The view zoomed out gradually until it encompassed half the map, finally allowing Cheng Feng’s trajectory to be clearly seen.

Zhong Yijie was unable to catch up from behind, falling further and further behind as he shouted, “Why are manual-operated mechs this fast all of a sudden? Is it even reasonable to add eight new thrusters in the technical revision? Would you stop running – are you going to fight or not?!”

His answer came in the form of a pursuit missile launched from the next block over.

Zhong Yijie hurriedly intercepted. The two small munitions collided in midair, exploding like fireworks in a burst of red sparks, while thick white smoke billowed outward with the blast wave.

Zhong Yijie had reached his limit. Opening up his weapons arsenal, he declared defiantly, “If that’s how you want to play, don’t blame me for not holding back!”

The deafening explosions instantly ceased, and the scene returned to Mr. Kong, everything appearing so serene and peaceful.

The reporter asked, “What style of combat does Cheng Feng lean toward?”

Mr. Kong had already answered very tactfully, avoiding any overly harsh words in order to maintain Cheng Feng’s image.

“Cheng Feng comes across as a very well-behaved, rule-abiding person, and her professional training is quite solid. But actually, her fighting style is rather unconstrained, and her understanding of manual-operated mechs is different from most people’s. To be precise, it’s somewhat unconventional. So when you see her pull off some bizarre maneuver, you’d just nod and think, oh, that’s perfectly normal. But if she executed a textbook-perfect command, you’d actually be surprised and wonder, what’s gotten into her today? Did the cafeteria food not agree with her?”

To show his friendliness, Mr. Kong flashed a stiff smile and let out a couple of dry laughs after delivering this rather humorless joke.

San Yao’s scene transitions this time disregarded their usual principles – shifting the moment they pleased.

Following the shot of Mr. Kong’s awkward smile, the video cut back to the duel between Zhong Yijie and Cheng Feng.

After a lengthy chase, Cheng Feng finally abandoned her showboating maneuvers and materialized directly in front of Wusu.

“I knew it!” Zhong Yijie slammed down on the launch button, shouting excitedly, “I predicted it!”

He was certain she would replicate that flashy move from before – the semi-transformation, thrusters combined with wind cannons, pushing power to its limit in an instant to evade backward. So he aimed half his firepower at Cheng Feng and half at her escape route.

But instead, the manual-operated mech executed a perfectly textbook rear-cut transformation, flipped its frame, and charged straight toward Wusu along the ground.

Zhong Yijie cursed loudly as he retreated, swiveling his guns to track her.

The manual-operated mech quickly hugged the wall as artillery fire closed in, its frame expanding and contracting as it began to transform.

Zhong Yijie was certain she was about to take off again. Over the past four days, he’d been guarding against this maneuver even in his dreams.

If he didn’t clip the wings of this shoddy bird, Cheng Feng would probably haunt him for life. With practiced ease, he aimed skyward and fired a blast.

But this time, the black mech didn’t. Completing its transformation, it gripped the wall, threw open its left weapons arsenal, and – after a slight shudder – launched its counterattack.

Zhong Yijie’s eyes went wide as he cried out in frustration, “Holy crap!! This is just unreasonable!”

Mr. Kong stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the corners of his eyes crinkling involuntarily with fine lines from the pull of his muscles, his gaze brimming with admiration for his prized student.

“She has a humble personality. Most students at this age tend to be a bit arrogant, and with competitions – well, it’s easy to get caught up in the atmosphere, throw out some trash talk, crack jokes, that sort of thing. The feeling I get from Cheng Feng is that she’s reserved – these worldly distractions don’t affect her. She doesn’t act on impulse, either.”

Amidst the explosive gunfire, Cheng Feng’s somewhat arrogant shouts cut through: “Come on, weren’t you going to spot me a weapons arsenal? How about I spot you two?”

“Why are you just throwing little baby punches today? You afraid you’ll shatter?”

Mr. Kong said, “She doesn’t get arrogant after a win, either. Doesn’t like to show off. She focuses more on summing up her experience and preparing for the next match.”

Cheng Feng’s manual-operated mech stood beside the ruins of Wusu, picking a spot with good lighting, raising the mech’s arms to pose for a photo with some unseen point in the void, her laugh sounding eerily mischievous.

Zhong Yijie didn’t log out, muttering relentlessly in disbelief the whole time. Mostly things like “Why?”, “How did this happen?”, “Were you just messing with me this whole time?”, “How can you be so sneaky?” – the kind of existential doubts that plague a person.

Mr. Kong’s expression appeared exceptionally innocent and guileless. San Yao had softened the lighting slightly, and even his natural air of intimidating ferocity seemed mellowed by the filter, making him look like an ordinary middle-aged man unskilled at expressing himself.

“She has her own world and may not be very good at communicating with others. Although she looks young and delicate, she actually values her independence.” Mr. Kong weighed his words carefully, speaking with caution. “Everyone’s upbringing and life circumstances are different, so there are certain differences in how we see the world. Communication may not always be perfectly equal.”

San Yao added a stirring BGM track here.

The audience, however, was still immersed in that “hehehe” from just a moment ago and found it hard to sync with the emotional tone being set.

Mr. Kong continued, “We were also worried before about whether this situation might cause any unpleasantness in her academic journey within the Alliance, and we worked hard to help her integrate into the group. I also hope that everyone can be a bit more understanding toward her, and not restrict or criticize her too harshly by the rules of society. She needs a space to grow freely. I hope she can make some very good friends.”

The next moment, a group of young people dressed in official UFU uniforms gathered together. After listening to the reporter’s question, they eagerly crowded toward the camera, speaking all at once:

“Cheng Feng can’t fail – she can do anything!”

“The biggest difference between her and the rest of us is that she’s just awesome!”

“Rules are flexible for the strong. Actually, I hope Cheng Feng can cut me some slack -but of course, I’ll keep working hard!”

“I’m not Cheng Feng’s friend – I’m her loyal little sidekick!”

“Junior, your senior’s fixed team is waiting for you!”

Finally, the interview with the main subject appeared.

Reporter: “What areas do you feel you need to improve at this stage?”

Cheng Feng: “Many. Very many.”

Reporter: “Then what shortcomings do you have that need to be addressed?”

Cheng Feng pondered for a moment, then said with some uncertainty: “None?”

Reporter: “If someone criticizes you, what would you do? Would you feel upset?”

Cheng Feng’s expression remained blank, but a hint of mockery could still be discerned: “Then it must be their problem. I’ll try to… sympathize with them.”

In the final shot of the interview, an empty room, the same sentimental BGM playing, Mr. Kong nodded with a sincere expression.

Mr. Kong turned off the video, closed his eyes, and leaned back quietly in his recliner.

He raised a hand to his chest, feeling a faint but rapid pulse beneath the warm skin.

Good.

Still alive.

Life was so beautiful. That was why he needed to stay away from Cheng Feng.