Chapter Fifty: In the End, Melee Decides Everything

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Li Daoran heard David's words but kept his hands busy, replying irritably, "Why don't you do it, then?"

"Don't get distracted—left side. They're starting to widen their attack zone. If you don't find a way to counter soon, you won't be able to dodge anymore," David said.

Seeing several energy cannons incoming, Li Daoran decisively veered left and sprinted away. In less than thirty seconds, he had already covered dozens of kilometers.

"Use the advantage of the eighth-generation mech. Forget about long-range attacks for now. Plot me a route—I want to slice them up," Li Daoran commanded. There was no time to aim; everywhere he looked, energy blasts filled his vision. He could only maneuver his mech with sharp dodges, left and right. David's route remained undetected by their opponents, so most predictive shots missed. As for lock-on firing, if lock-on were possible, close-combat mechs wouldn't have risen to dominance.

"No. Right now, they're missing because you have no target and are moving unpredictably. If you go for a target, you'll leave a trace," David refuted Li Daoran's idea.

"You think they're all as freakish as you? Feints, tactical deception—do you need me to teach you?" Li Daoran snapped at David’s explanation, nearly getting taken out by an energy blast in his agitation.

The Jumper, moving at high speed, zigzagged wildly—sometimes charging left, then suddenly spinning and darting backwards. No human body could perform such incredible shifts; even mechs suffered damage from these unnatural maneuvers, as evidenced by the nearly hundred yellow indicators lighting up.

"In that case, let's be direct. No matter how well you disguise, sooner or later you'll be exposed—and it'll cost you dearly. Since you've decided, just leap and bet they're not as fast as you. This is one of the official tactics for Jumpers, though I hadn't taught you yet. I was saving it for when you mastered mech martial arts. You can try it now; the key sequence is…"

David rattled off the button numbers, and Li Daoran pressed them instinctively—something he'd drilled since his earliest training.

The silver Jumper activated its auxiliary thrusters, leaping high into the sky. In the next second, it pivoted, heading straight for the Night Fortress perched atop the hill since the beginning. In midair, Li Daoran drew both blades with seamless grace, gripping them horizontally. The Night Fortress was still firing at his previous location, unable to adjust its turret in time—its operator simply too slow.

The silver Jumper flashed past the Night Fortress, leaving it neatly sliced in two.

Now it was one versus four.

"Yes! This is how it should be—enough with the sneaky shooting and hiding, what a pain!" Li Daoran roared, venting his exhilaration.

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But David cautioned, "That's only because they're incompetent. Otherwise, you'd be dead ten times over. This was supposed to be a lesson, but now it's reverse teaching. Don't underestimate long-range combat—you'll regret it. This is something you must practice."

"Got it, got it. Let's go again! One more time!" Li Daoran said excitedly.

"First, deal with the other two within radar range. For the remaining two, you must take them out with the sniper cannon," David instructed.

"Okay, what's the key sequence?"

"Did you learn nothing all this time? Just a different direction, the basic key sequence is nearly the same."

"I didn't remember—just tell me!" Li Daoran maneuvered the mech to dodge several incoming energy blasts, urging David.

David calculated the direction and quickly rattled off another string of numbers. This time, without the sword-drawing motions, there were fifty fewer key presses, making Li Daoran even more adept. The enemy's slow hands couldn't hope to catch up with Li Daoran at full throttle—this was why eighth-generation mechs dominated the battlefield. If you wanted to escape, no ordinary pilot could stop you.

Li Daoran dispatched the other two mechs with the same method, growing ever more exhilarated. The firepower from the remaining two Night Fortresses posed little challenge for him now. He sheathed his great blades, switched to the sniper cannon, and, without aiming, fired a shot toward the location of incoming energy blasts.

While dodging, he had enough bandwidth to operate two small radars to locate the last enemy mechs, periodically using the sniper rifle to disrupt their attack rhythm.

Finally, both radars locked onto the enemy positions.

Both enemies now had their shields up, uncertain why Li Daoran wasn't finishing them off with his blades, instead toying with them using the sniper rifle. Their spirits were crushed; all they cared about was landing a hit on Li Daoran, ignoring the occasional retaliatory energy blasts.

They never imagined encountering such a godlike opponent—moving unpredictably, anticipating their firing paths, evading the full barrage of five Night Fortresses. Yet, even then, they had only felt excited, believing sooner or later the mech would be destroyed; after all, it was still the age of firepower supremacy. Close-combat invincibility? They scoffed at the idea.

That was until Li Daoran leapt high, executing a set of maneuvers they had never even conceived of. In three seconds—just three seconds—the Jumper completed a series of complex actions. For a single person to do this was unbelievable; how could they accept that a mech could perform such moves? Seventy actions in a single second—what kind of person could reach that level? Now, all they had was deep, unsettling doubt.

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I have a hundred billion backing me—who on earth is he? No, is he even human anymore?

Li Daoran, of course, had no idea how cruelly he shattered their worldview, leaving them questioning whether he was still human.

The two remaining enemies unleashed their firepower in a frenzy, but this kind of wild barrage was easy for David; he could estimate their trajectory and teach Li Daoran how to dodge just by watching the angles of their shots.

They held out until their energy shields depleted. Li Daoran fired—a miss on the first shot.

"Now you know their positions, and I'm giving you the angles. Yet you still missed. This shows just how little you understand your only long-range weapon. You need serious practice, Daoran."

Li Daoran, embarrassed, quickly replied, "Alright, I'll practice—right away."

There was no need to aim precisely; knowing their locations meant he only had to adjust the angle. Even while evading energy blasts, he searched for the right shot, but he kept missing—his constant movement introduced angle errors.

Li Daoran recognized the issue and became even more diligent in his training.

David continued to give directions and angles, but never told Li Daoran when or where to fire. If it were Chen Ming, the game would have ended long ago—he would have just had Li Daoran hold the barrel steady at a certain position, and at the right moment, say "shoot," and a mech would explode on cue. That was the difference between Chen Ming and David.

Li Daoran gradually began to think differently—moving not just according to David's instructions, but pondering whether he could switch up his approach. He started calculating alongside David: Why move left at this angle? Why stop?

Watching the enemy mechs fire energy cannons on the screen, he learned to assess which direction they would reach him from, slowly forgetting he even needed to shoot back. David paid no mind, mechanically reporting enemy firing angles and how to dodge.

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