Chapter 63: Almost Became a Senior

The Gatling gun’s muzzle flickered with blinding flashes, the staccato rattle and clinking of metal echoing as a hail of bullets transformed into a storm of steel, sweeping toward the Tank-class Fiend. Yet the monster charged on, undaunted, barreling straight at Zhuang Xiaoyuan. The bullets struck the shield on its head, ringing out in crisp, metallic notes, but failed to even scratch its armored front. Still, the sheer volume of fire was not without effect; the Tank-class Fiend’s charge was forcibly slowed, making its movements far easier for Zhuang Xiaoyuan to predict.

As the two sides rapidly closed in, the eight Dragoon floating turrets had already circled behind the Tank-class Fiend. Under Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s mental command, the eight turrets darted into position and unleashed simultaneous beams of scarlet light. The Tank-class Fiend howled in agony and crashed to the ground; its limbs behind the head shield were all struck by the lasers. The instant exposure to tens of millions of degrees instantly vaporized its limbs. Zhuang Xiaoyuan had aimed precisely for these vulnerable joints.

Fiends were not known for intelligence. They relied purely on instinct to remember danger, so when confronted for the first time with the Dragoon floating turrets, they had no defense, allowing Zhuang Xiaoyuan to strike true.

Even as she maneuvered, Zhuang Xiaoyuan never ceased her assault. She flew swiftly to the fallen Fiend, and as it wailed, the metallic storm from her Gatling gun tore straight into the now-exposed crimson core crystal. With a sharp crack, the core shattered, and the Fiend’s cries ended abruptly as its body dissolved into drifting ash. Strangely, this Tank-class Fiend seemed much weaker than those she’d encountered before. Was it just her imagination?

Frowning in puzzlement, Zhuang Xiaoyuan swung her weapon around. The Gatling gun swept the encroaching ranks of Soldier- and Captain-class Fiends, who, heedless of lessons learned, were closing in again. The Dragoon turrets, still orbiting her, scattered in all directions, each targeting new enemies under her mental guidance.

With the Tank-class Fiend dispatched, Zhuang Xiaoyuan continued her high-speed advance, maintaining her course without the slightest decrease in velocity. With abundant energy and ammunition at her disposal, none of the nearby Fiends could approach her. The lower-ranking Fiends, lacking any ranged capabilities, were utterly helpless against her.

Something was clearly amiss. As she pressed forward through the swarm, adjusting her aim and scanning her surroundings, Zhuang Xiaoyuan grew increasingly unsettled. These Fiends were undeniably weaker than those she’d fought before. Even more bizarre, not a single God-class Fiend was present among their ranks, despite their overwhelming numbers. The situation grew stranger by the moment.

Though her mind was awhirl with unease, this was no time to dwell on why the Fiends had weakened or why no God-class monsters had appeared. Her sole priority was to find Zhuang Xiaosi.

Maintaining her breakneck pace, she eliminated three more Tank-class Fiends along the way, nearly fulfilling half the original mission’s quota. At last, she heard the familiar rattle of live-fire weapons and the high-pitched cries of beam rifles.

“There!” Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s eyes lit up as she caught the familiar sounds of gunfire amid the Fiend horde. She carved a graceful arc through the low air, dispatching a few Soldier-class Fiends along the trajectory, and shot toward the source.

As she drew closer, the gunfire grew clearer. Forcing her way through the Fiends, she finally burst through their encirclement and emerged into an open space.

No sooner had she broken free than a sharp blade flashed toward her. Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s pupils contracted in an instant. Her body reacted on pure instinct; hands and feet shot forward, the thrusters at her limbs erupting in blue flame while the main thruster on her back instantly powered down and her head tilted ever so slightly back.

Propelled by the thrusters’ recoil, she flipped backward in midair, narrowly avoiding the blade as she and its wielder passed each other—one above, one below.

“Zhuang… Xiaoyuan?!”

“Xiaosi—Instructor?!”

In that fleeting moment, both recognized the other. That had been too close. Touching her unscathed neck, Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s heart pounded wildly. Had she not reacted with an evasive move she’d never performed before, she might well have ended up like Senior Sister Hongcha—separated from her head.

“Zhuang Xiaoyuan. Why are you here? This is not where you should be.” For the first time, a new expression flitted across Zhuang Xiaosi’s usually impassive face—one of lingering fear.

The harrowing encounter had startled more than just Zhuang Xiaoyuan. Even Zhuang Xiaosi, who normally suppressed all emotion, found herself shaken. She could still feel her core engine thundering within her, beating faster than ever before.

“I came to deliver supplies.” Zhuang Xiaoyuan raised her Gatling gun, with its attached energy replenisher, in her right hand while her left patted her chest, trying to calm her racing heart as she answered.

“That’s the logistics team’s job. The central mainframe did not assign you to deliver supplies.” The green digital symbols in Zhuang Xiaosi’s eyes flickered rapidly; her expression returned to its usual blankness. Unlike Zhuang Xiaoyuan, who had to operate terminals manually, Zhuang Xiaosi interfaced with the mainframe effortlessly, querying data through the neural interface device atop her head.

“I didn’t come because of an order. I came because I was worried about you.” As expected, she couldn’t bluff her way through. Zhuang Xiaoyuan muttered but answered honestly.

Very few mecha girls acted on their own will; most followed the mainframe’s directives. Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s independence probably made her seem odd to the others.

But she didn’t mind. If she could get away with it, so be it—if not, she’d tell the truth. Besides, from her past encounters with that elder mecha girl, it seemed her differences were, in fact, her normality.

“Worried? Why?” At Zhuang Xiaoyuan’s words, Zhuang Xiaosi felt a strange warmth in her core engine—a sensation she’d never experienced before. The word ‘worry’ meant ‘to feel uneasy about someone or something,’ but why would anyone be uneasy about her? She was much stronger than Zhuang Xiaoyuan—there was no need for concern. Puzzled, she tilted her head.

“Why? Do I need a reason to worry about you?” Zhuang Xiaoyuan was momentarily taken aback. Did worry require a reason? She worried simply because she cared.