Top Warzone Analyst Chapter 79

Cheng Feng didn’t know which teacher had come up with her question, but whoever it was had clearly done so with malicious intent.

After running a full lap, she went back to Shen Dan to confirm the names of all the instructors for each subject. Just to be safe, she also memorized the names of the principal, the dean, and several key administrators along the way.

Having “reflected on herself three times” and feeling fully prepared, she went to find Mr. Zhou – only to be given her second question:

On the UFU emblem, is the symbol on the left a blade or a pen?

For a split second, Cheng Feng’s expression twisted. Gritting her teeth, she snapped, “A pen!”

Mr. Zhou sighed. “…Goodbye.”

Cheng Feng’s mindset completely collapsed. This was even more frustrating than being told to run ten more laps.

Mr. Zhou was also dumbfounded. She had managed to dodge what was basically a free-point question – this kid was something else.

He asked suspiciously, “Are you really a student of UFU? I remember every past principal being so narcissistic they plastered the emblem all over the place.”

The alumni behind her immediately sprang to defend their leadership’s reputation, shouting, “Sir! That’s not true!” “Our university’s motto is humility and restraint!”

Mr. Zhou’s facial muscles twitched as he handed Cheng Feng’s ID card back to her.

This time, Cheng Feng strolled around with her hands in her pockets. When she returned again, she finally drew a normal academic question.

At last, the ordeal was over – but she had little joy left from her “victory.” With her head lowered and steps unsteady, she made her way to the open space in the middle.

Shen Dan was already inside, resting. She tilted her head back to look at her, her face full of curiosity. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but out of consideration for their friendship, she held back from delivering any blows.

The two of them stood back-to-back, doing some stretches. As the discomfort in their bodies gradually faded and they were getting ready to head back to the dorms to rest, a burst of synchronized, forceful footsteps sounded from the distance.

The First and Second Military teams had finally arrived.

Around sixty people marched into the activity hall in orderly formation. When they saw students sprawled all over the ground in every direction, their already pale faces turned even worse. Not daring to breathe too loudly, their eyes darted around nervously.

Mr. Zhou waved his hand and shouted, “Make some space – clear the activity area for them. All you ‘corpses,’ roll yourselves into the middle!”

The leading instructor raised a hand and signaled for the group to stop at the entrance, then went to the supply station to grab a bottle of water.

Mr. Zhou asked, “Why are you so late?”

The instructor took off his cap and shot a sideways glance at his students, snorting coldly. “Someone tried to sneak an optical computer along the way and got exposed. Took them aside for a little ‘lesson about life.’”

Mr. Zhou laughed. “This batch of students is pretty bold with their ideas.”

The leading instructor wasn’t in a good mood. His narrow eyes swept across the field, and he tersely spat out one word: “Run.”

These students had clearly already been drilled – they didn’t dare ask questions and immediately started jogging along the outer edge.

The few students still struggling to complete their tasks felt a sudden surge of joy and instantly steadied themselves.

Why bother competing for first place with those beasts from UFU? As long as someone else is at the bottom, that’s enough.

So the students still on the track became unusually warm and friendly toward their newly joined “friends.” As the newcomers passed them, they called out enthusiastically from behind:

“Keep it up!”
“This is an endurance race – everyone hang in there!”
“Don’t mess up the rhythm between teams! We’re being judged on overall performance – don’t be the one who drags everyone down!”

The earnest, seemingly sincere cheers sent chills down the spines of the clueless newcomers.

Mr. Zhou watched them with a hint of envy, then turned back to glance at the grinning, unruly bunch beside him and said with disdain, “Look at them – so disciplined. I’ve been far too lenient with you lot. None of you have any proper bearing.”

The UFU seniors protested, blinking innocently as they said, “Sir, aren’t we outstanding?”

Mr. Zhou clicked his tongue and mercilessly pointed toward the door. “If you’ve finished answering your questions, get lost. Don’t say I didn’t warn you – the canteen closes in half an hour.”

Cheng Feng and Shen Dan hurriedly got up, slinging arms over each other’s shoulders as they headed to the canteen.

To Cheng Feng’s relief, the military district canteen food was actually quite good. She polished off two large bowls of rice with braised meat, and both body and mind felt thoroughly restored.

A senior nearby was inspired by her and shoveled down a few extra mouthfuls as well -so full he had to hold onto the wall on his way out.

Stuffed and drowsy, the two saw they still had some time left, so they dashed back to the dorms to squeeze in a quick nap.

An hour and a half later, the two of them were jolted awake by the ringing bell, hearts racing. Dragging their stiff, rusted legs, they made their way to the third floor for their theory class.

The computer lab was deathly quiet. A group of students slumped over their desks, heads drooping, looking utterly drained.

Class officially started at 7:30, yet more than half the seats were still empty. The instructor walked in holding her optical computer and gave a brief nod of acknowledgment.

The one teaching their specialized course was a female instructor. She stood tall, her uniform immaculate. Seated at the podium, the lighting outlined a clear and elegant jawline along her profile. Her voice was soft and measured, with a gentle lilt at the end of her sentences – pleasant to listen to.

“Today, we’ll talk about how to refine dynamic models. Most of you should have studied this course before, but only at an introductory level, so your understanding still has certain limitations.”

She opened her optical computer and uploaded the course materials directly to the shared platform.

“I’ve looked through your papers. Over 90% of you still rely on basic concepts to derive dynamic models. Given your current knowledge base, that’s a reasonable approach – but I hope you’ll correct it as soon as possible. Because even if the results are correct, it’s highly inefficient. And in data analysis, any method that can’t guarantee efficiency is, in itself, absolutely wrong.”

Cheng Feng rubbed her face and focused on the items listed in the document. This was exactly the type of question on the exam that had left her completely stumped.

However, the course materials didn’t contain any systematic model code – only scattered snippets of revision code tailored to different scenarios and types of attacks.

The instructor clasped her hands on the desk and said slowly, “I believe you all know that data analysis is a skill that relies heavily on practical experience, especially after multiple variables are introduced. To ensure timeliness in your data, Type-B commanders need a certain level of sensitivity, which must be cultivated through daily observation. For specifics, you can refer to the directions outlined in my document.”

Cheng Feng skimmed through it and found the entries extremely detailed.

Her own modeling style was already quite meticulous. Suitable cover, blind spots in line of sight, optimal attack routes – these were all within her considerations. But the instructor’s perspective was very different from hers, placing greater emphasis on terrain and dynamic changes.

She tilted her head and glanced at Shen Dan. Seeing that her expression remained calm and unchanged, she pressed her lips together and noted down a few key points.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t know it yet – but she couldn’t afford not to learn.

A faint rustling spread through the classroom – the sound of clothes brushing and students whispering to one another.

The instructor’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried with remarkable clarity, cutting through the noise and reaching every corner of the room.

“Today we’ll start with mech analysis as an introduction. Why do so many students dislike analyzing mech combat? Because in this kind of model, aside from objective data, there’s also a degree of subjective judgment involved. If we apply strict standards, a full analysis report needs to be broken down into multiple perspectives and layers. Don’t think of it as troublesome – our work doesn’t allow for carelessness or mistakes. Now, let’s look at an example.”

As she spoke, she uploaded a mech battle video to the shared platform. The footage was projected at the center of the classroom. She then led everyone in breaking down the first minute of the video action step by step, recording it systematically. After giving a general framework for reference, she had the students try it themselves.

Meanwhile, she walked around the classroom, reviewing their work.

Mech combat analysis happened to be Shen Dan’s strong suit.

While she wasn’t great at actual hands-on piloting, her behind-the-scenes research ran deep. On countless sleepless nights, she had worked under lamplight to produce nearly a hundred detailed strategy guides for different mech models – rich with text and illustrations, drawing from a wide range of references. Online, this series of contributions was mockingly described as “another massive foot-binding tome destined to be buried in the tides of history.”

In other words, it looked long and comprehensive, but most of it could be summed up in a single sentence: he courted death, and so he died.

Moreover, the situations Shen Dan analyzed were ones they would almost never encounter – after all, they had legs and could dodge.

Such ridicule infuriated Shen Dan.

Of course, that didn’t stop her from building a solid foundation in data analysis.

As for Cheng Feng, she had an almost natural advantage in this area.

The training methods of combat robots could be described as “simple and brutal.” Having grown up in that kind of environment, the combat mindset she developed also carried a strong, machine-like, step-by-step progression.

Following the framework given by the instructor, she quickly realized that her thought process during combat was highly aligned with what was called dynamic analysis. The only difference was that her previous subjects of analysis hadn’t been the current-generation sensor mechs.

The instructor passed behind the two of them, bent down to observe for a moment, then soon turned and walked away – leaving behind a faint, elegant floral scent in the air.

Shen Dan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a cold smile tugging at her lips. The dim glow of the screen cast a shadowy light over her face – it was impossible to tell what she was thinking as she wrote the analysis report.

Meanwhile, Cheng Feng focused intently on grasping that subtle feeling, trying to uncover the underlying principles behind it.

About halfway through their progress, the base bell rang again, reminding everyone that it was already 9:30 p.m. and that they could take a short break.

Chairs scraped as they were pushed back, and a few students took the opportunity to head out to the restroom.

Cheng Feng looked up at the sound and gave the room a quick scan.

After class had started, more students had trickled in, but about a third of the seats were still empty. The First Military students still hadn’t shown up – most likely they’d earned themselves a rare “life experience package.”

If you didn’t complete the physical training, you really weren’t allowed to attend academic classes. Cheng Feng found the rule rather harsh. Getting in the way of her single-minded pursuit of learning was downright infuriating.

However, that thought only flashed briefly through her mind before disappearing from the mind of a victor. After all, she shouldn’t be worrying about such things – she was far too outstanding.

Cheng Feng rolled her neck and returned to the unfinished task at hand.

Around ten o’clock, a scattered set of footsteps echoed down the corridor, growing softer as they neared the classroom.

The door was pulled open from the outside, and along with the cold wind rushing in came a faint, unpleasant smell.

Cheng Feng was seated near the entrance. Her nostrils twitched as she caught that unusual scent. Her eyelid jerked sharply; she snapped fully awake, her expression shifting in an instant from drowsy to horrified.

Like the other students, she quickly turned her head toward the back door, watching with a complicated expression as the group of “comrades-in-misery” who had apparently just returned from pigpen-cleaning duty filed into the classroom one after another.

They carried with them a heavy, gloomy aura, like pitiful seedlings battered by wind and frost.

The base had the heating on and wasn’t well ventilated. That smell quickly mixed into the circulating warm air, spreading to every corner of the room and gradually growing stronger over time, creating a thoroughly unpleasant atmosphere.

On Cheng Feng’s left sat a student from the First Military, which made it hard for her to concentrate. She wanted to express sympathy, while also wanting to move a little further away from him.

Only the instructor remained completely unfazed, saying calmly, “Download the courseware yourselves and review it on your own. Try to come earlier next time.”

Shen Dan nudged Cheng Feng with her elbow and pointed to the young man diagonally to her left. “That’s Tao Rui. So smelly. Do top students really have to compete for first place even when cleaning pigpens?”

Cheng Feng had no idea.

However, it was true that this group had already changed their clothes and shoes -otherwise they wouldn’t have been allowed into the computer lab. They were probably in too much of a hurry to wash properly, or maybe the smell had already soaked in too deeply to get rid of.

Shen Dan’s voice was a little too loud, and Tao Rui heard it. He turned around with a weathered, world-worn expression and slowly drifted in their direction.

But the mockery from the others was even more direct and unrestrained. A Second Military friend burst out laughing, quickly prompting the UFU seniors to join in with gleeful schadenfreude.

“Was the pigpen big? Was the equipment advanced?”

“You guys weren’t slacking off until now, were you? That’s so lucky. Unlike us – we’ve been studying the whole time.”

“Are you staying there tonight too? Did you lay out bedding already?”

“How can it be that smelly? Did the instructor make you roll around inside?”

The First Military students clenched their teeth hard, unable to make a move because the instructor was present.

Compared to their lack of kindness, even Shen Dan’s words seemed almost gentle.

Seeing that everyone’s attention was scattered, the instructor simply put away her terminal and said, “Class is over. Any unfinished analysis can be done during the break. If you have questions, leave me a message in time. Tomorrow at 6 a.m., gather in the first-floor lobby – don’t be late.”

The students stood up with her, eager to escape this enclosed space.

The moment the instructor walked out the door, First Military students immediately lunged forward, embracing others from the military universities with a “let’s all go down together” attitude, blocking and grabbing at them.

“Come on!” a First Military student shouted, shrugging off his jacket with a wildly arrogant expression. “Lock the doors!”

“Damn it!”

“Get lost!”

“Don’t come over here!”

Screams echoed for a long time on the third floor. In the chaos, curses flew everywhere, and the name shouted most frequently was still “Tao Rui.”

The other students didn’t even know most of their names, so Tao Rui was forced to take the blame on their behalf – after all, they were all from the First Military.

Cheng Feng, afraid of getting caught in the chaos, seized the chance and slipped away quickly.

…

There wasn’t much time for washing up. Cheng Feng quickly got herself ready and lay down on the bed. After a day of intense physical exertion, she felt drowsy the moment she touched the mattress.

After the lights were turned off, the senior dormmate chatted briefly with them about that evening’s modeling work. After a few short exchanges, her speech gradually slowed, and she started giggling foolishly, seemingly drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

Cheng Feng thought she had fallen asleep – until she heard her mutter proudly:

“Tao Rui feeding pigs… hahahahaha!”

Cheng Feng didn’t understand, but she was deeply shocked.

What kind of deep-seated grudge was that supposed to be?