Chapter 54 Life Aboard the Starship

Bear Mountain carried one person on each shoulder, his manner far less gentle than that of Li Daoran and his companion. Exiting the hatch, he simply tossed them to the ground, not caring much so long as they survived. In no time, he had thrown everyone from the cabin.

The cockpit at the front of the fighter jet opened, and a man clad in exoskeletal armor called out teasingly, “Hey, Old Bear, long time no see.”

Bear Mountain nodded in greeting. “Long time no see, loser.”

The man Bear Mountain had called a loser jumped down from the jet and stripped off his exoskeleton, revealing a scrawny, bony frame. No wonder he was called a loser—he truly was skin and bones.

Facing Bear Mountain, who was five times his size, the man leapt up and punched him lightly in the chest. “Still as robust as ever. Pity me, though—not an ounce of flesh gained.”

Bear Mountain didn’t retaliate; he feared that a single blow would be fatal to the frail man. Instead, he voiced the question that had been troubling him, a question even the instructors didn’t have an answer to. “So what’s going on? Why are we suddenly being summoned? Even you, nearly obsolete, have been recalled. Has the situation gotten that dire?”

“If you don’t know, how would I?” the loser replied, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, exhaled a ring of smoke, and said slowly, “Honestly, I was already retired. Then I was called back—but not to my old unit. From what I’ve heard, my unit’s designation is gone. Those bastards, always so arrogant, and in the end, I’m the only deserter left. Damn…” The smoke stung his eyes, and he wiped away the moisture, inhaling another drag, finishing the cigarette in two deep breaths, tears streaming down his face from the harshness.

Bear Mountain patted him gently on the back, but found he had no words of comfort.

“I came back for revenge. I wasn’t supposed to return, but here I am. All I know is this starship is headed for Nork Star—the place where the War Tiger unit vanished. Those bastards… just you wait.” He ground out his cigarette fiercely, his hunched form departing.

Li Daoran had been listening to their conversation all along. Watching the loser’s retreating figure, a nameless rage welled up inside him.

Suddenly, Xu Xingxing cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Sir, we’ll help you get your revenge!”

Bear Mountain turned to look at them, the smile at the corner of his lips twisting instantly into a sneer.

“With your current abilities? Revenge? More like going to your deaths. Look at you—you can barely sit up after a ride in a fighter. Do you even understand what War Tiger means? You think that scrawny guy is weak? His exoskeleton is right there—let’s see if any of you can even put it on. A bunch of greenhorns, talking big.”

By now, everyone had regained consciousness and, hearing Bear Mountain’s words, struggled to their feet. Xu Xingxing’s face flushed with indignation and he stepped forward to try on the exoskeleton, but Li Daoran stopped him with an outstretched arm.

“I’ll try,” Li Daoran said firmly.

Xu Xingxing halted, nodded, and stood behind him.

Li Daoran reached out to the exoskeleton—he had seen one in the first mecha class, since piloting a mech required wearing one, but this was his first time so close. He jumped in, and the safety straps automatically secured him. The suit adjusted itself to his height, then a layer of skin began to spread from his spine, a silver-white surface flecked with black—a design unique to the White Deer Republic—covering the entire exoskeleton.

It felt like wearing a second skin. His hands seemed gloved, yet when he flexed his fingers, there was no restriction—the sensitivity was undiminished. Donning the exoskeleton was effortless, but he knew this couldn’t be all; Bear Mountain wouldn’t have challenged them to “try it on” if it was so simple. If wearing it posed no difficulty, operating it must be the true test.

Li Daoran tried to take a step, but stumbled, his stride exaggerated, almost pulling a muscle.

It was as if every movement was amplified tenfold; what should have been a tentative step became nearly a split. The powered assistance was overwhelming.

Bear Mountain raised his eyebrows, surprised; most people struggled to even walk their first time in an exoskeleton, and although Li Daoran nearly lost his balance, he still managed a step.

Cautiously, Li Daoran straightened up and disengaged from the suit, leaping out and shaking his head. “No good. It’s too difficult.”

Bear Mountain strode forward and jumped into the suit himself. Once inside, he threw a punch, sending a strong gust of wind in all directions. Then he leaped over a hundred meters, performing several maneuvers in midair before landing smoothly, without a ripple, leaving Class Ten dumbstruck.

Their game mechs were nothing compared to this. Yet this was only a simple exoskeleton, not particularly bulky, just slightly enlarging the wearer’s frame. In terms of strength and speed, it was already at least on par with, if not superior to, many in-game mechs, since it magnified the user’s actions directly, far faster than pressing keys.

“Damn, Daoran, I think the in-game mech stats have been massively nerfed. Our estimates were probably off. Just based on Bear Mountain’s demonstration, he already outclasses the Pioneer model, and this exoskeleton is only an auxiliary tool for operating the real mechs and fighters. Imagine how terrifying the real mechs must be,” Chen Ming’s serious words reached Li Daoran.

Li Daoran nodded in full agreement. If the real mechs were only as powerful as in the game, then with Bear Mountain’s performance, dismantling one barehanded would be no joke.

“We really underestimated your world, Daoran. Well, game stats can’t be taken at face value—it was naive of us. Still, they ought to offer some reference value, or the internal rankings wouldn’t be so highly regarded. We’ll only know the truth when we actually pilot a mech.” Chen Ming gave a bitter laugh; after today, it seemed even more people would be losing sleep.

After his display, Bear Mountain removed the exoskeleton and turned to the group. “You shouldn’t even be seeing this exoskeleton yet. It’s part of your curriculum six months from now. But now, there’s no time. In two months at most, we’ll reach the Nork Star System. If you can’t master the exoskeleton by then, you’ll go to the battlefield as the most pitiful kind of soldier—barefighters.”

“Barefighters, as the name implies, are soldiers sent to battle without armor. If it comes to that, don’t blame anyone but yourselves for not putting in the effort. The next two months will be the easiest you’ll have from now on—make the most of them. Now, come with me to update your wristbands. After that, you’ll be assigned dormitories…”