Chapter Forty-One: Breakthrough

At this moment, Li Daoran already knew that the King Kong mecha was likely underground, but he couldn’t understand what purpose hiding beneath the surface could serve. He was completely unaware that this confusion stemmed from his lack of familiarity with the game; in reality, this was a bug that very few players knew about. It was first discovered by Catcat the Cutest in the midst of a match—his opponent couldn’t find him and simply surrendered. Yet Li Daoran assumed there must be some other reason for hiding beneath the desert sands, so he remained intensely vigilant, guarding against a sudden subterranean ambush.

And so, the two remained deadlocked. After three minutes, the system automatically ruled that Catcat the Cutest had been swallowed by quicksand in the desert, failed to escape, and suffocated—resulting in a loss. Fifty points were deducted from his score and awarded to Li Daoran, who was left utterly bewildered, having gained fifty points for nothing. Catcat the Cutest was so furious he let out a wail.

“Damn, so it’s a hidden mechanic, not a bug. I’ve been cheated, utterly cheated.” Catcat the Cutest was utterly dejected, realizing he had played himself with his own cleverness.

In his anger, he immediately issued another challenge, declaring that his earlier loss was a fluke and vowing to make Li Daoran pay this time.

At this point, Li Daoran had 76 points, while Catcat the Cutest had 100. Without hesitation, Li Daoran accepted the challenge—after all, if someone was willing to hand him free points, he was more than happy to oblige.

Once again, the map was the desert. In truth, this terrain was quite suited for battles between King Kong-type mechas and Leapers.

Upon entering the map, King Kong immediately leaped high into the air and spotted the Leaper in the distance. At the same moment, Li Daoran also saw him.

The Leaper raised his sniper rifle, preparing to aim and fire, but King Kong smashed himself down at a sharp angle, sending up a cloud of dust and sand—a small sandstorm that quickly obscured his form.

King Kong was experienced; after whipping up the sandstorm, he moved directly toward Li Daoran’s position, manipulating both of his arm-mounted weapon systems to fire low-powered energy beams in the Leaper’s direction, making it impossible for Li Daoran to remain still and aim.

Laser beams lanced through the air, and Li Daoran had a choice: he could either activate his energy shield to block the attack and go on the offensive, or dodge and relocate.

“Dodge. There’s no point trading fire with the energy shield. King Kong is a Generation 7 mecha—his weapons are much stronger than yours. Holster the sniper, draw your blades, get ready for close combat,” came Chen Ming’s command.

The beams exploded into the sand, forming a jagged, uneven crater. Within the pit, countless sparkling glass-like crystals were created, glittering in the light.

But the Leaper had already vanished. King Kong hadn’t expected him to advance rather than retreat, and with the sandstorm as cover, he lost sight of the Leaper entirely.

As Li Daoran charged forward, he stowed his sniper rifle. Two objects, which had always looked like mere decorations on the Leaper’s waist, were now drawn—instantly exuding an air of dominance. The twin blades were each three meters long and two meters wide, their edges shimmering with iridescent light, thin as a cicada’s wing, with jet-black spines half a meter thick, as if hungry for blood.

The blades began to vibrate at high frequency in the Leaper’s hands, the rainbow aura covering the edges leaving no doubt as to their lethality.

Controlling both blades demanded Li Daoran’s utmost effort, his hands moving at an astonishing fifty actions per second. Back on Aquamarine, this would have been impossible, achievable only here in Daoran’s World, and only due to his moderate mastery of the Illusive Demon Hand technique.

But with so much focus on his hands, analyzing the situation and environment became difficult. Luckily, he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Activate your shield—the battle will be decided in this minute. Advance at one o’clock, turn to ten o’clock, jump two meters, activate auxiliary thrusters, charge! Invert your left-hand blade for a horizontal slash, brake with reverse thrust, spin, downward cut with the right blade—beautiful, you’ve won!”

The Leaper tore through the sandstorm, auxiliary thrusters kicking up clouds behind him. King Kong quickly noticed the onrushing twin-blade Leaper; Catcat the Cutest’s pupils contracted—twin blades! He’s done for—this is a true expert!

The Leaper’s unstoppable momentum overwhelmed King Kong, but he didn’t just sit and wait—he fired at full power. Yet his barrage was blocked by the energy shield; and since King Kong was slower, he couldn’t evade the Leaper’s sudden attack. In a flash, the Leaper reversed his left blade and sliced off King Kong’s right arm. Before the latter could react, the screen went black—the game had declared defeat. The Leaper’s turning downward slash split King Kong cleanly from top to bottom.

Li Daoran was drenched in sweat, his hair soaked through, staring blankly at the virtual keyboard in front of him, ignoring the private messages flooding into his login pod. At this moment, there was only one word for what he felt: exhilaration.

“Magnificent, well done, Daoran!” Chen Ming’s voice praised him in his ear.

Li Daoran raised his head to watch the replay of his blade splitting King Kong. His attention during the fight had been entirely on the keyboard, following Chen Ming’s commands, his mind focused solely on inputting the next sequence as quickly as possible. He’d had no idea what was happening on the screen—just that when the commands were complete, his hands trembled, on the verge of cramping. Now, seeing the replay, he felt it was all worth it—he looked awesome.

“Daoran, according to the metrics, your hand speed just broke your previous record, reaching fifty-five actions per second. That’s an incredible figure, suggesting you haven’t yet tapped your body’s full potential. With more battles, this number could go even higher. Fifteen days remain—you could very well take first place. Do you need a break now?”

Li Daoran nodded, exited the login pod, and stood at the doorway for more than ten minutes, waiting for his hands to stop shaking and his mind to calm. He did a few Illusive Demon Hand exercises to relax his fingers, then turned and sat back down in the pod.

Opening his private messages, he found one from Catcat the Cutest.

“Whose alt account are you, master? Please, carry me!”

“?”

Li Daoran replied with a question mark. That last victory had pushed his score to 100, while Catcat the Cutest was left with only 76—but he didn’t care; he’d found a top player, and now was the time to cling to his coattails.

“Please, master, carry me! I’ll find people to feed you points so you can hit 1,000 fast. When you reach 1,000, carry me through five-player matches, okay?”

“?”

Li Daoran sent another question mark. It seemed that 1,000 points was a watershed, after which battles were no longer one-on-one, but between teams of five.

“Master, my main account is called Lonely Rain. Add me, please, I’m begging you.”

“?”

“Please, master, your constant question marks are making me really nervous.”

“Wait a moment—I have a score to settle,” Li Daoran’s pupils contracted as a new challenge arrived. Seeing the familiar name, he flexed his fingers in anticipation, eager to begin.

“Hundred-Billion Tadpole, I hear you’ve been getting cocky, bullying our little Catcat. Come, let your uncle teach you a lesson.” The taunting name Cold Wind was provocation enough—there was no need to read his message. Chen Ming was already fired up.

“Accept it. Take him down. Let’s see who gave him that kind of nerve.”