First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 162

Chapter 162: Test

The results came out. A wave of sighs filled the viewing room.

The instructors remained seated, as did the guards beside them. With the seniors not moving, the juniors naturally didn't dare to either.

"Oh dear, oh dear, what a slap in the face," one instructor chuckled slyly behind his hand. "Who was it that said it was impossible? That she wouldn't win? So what's this situation now?"

"So what if she did? Even if the White Team won, it still proves the Red Team is more outstanding."

"The White Team isn't mature yet, but the Red Team already has the momentum to stand on their own."

"If you were leading troops..."

The instructors answered without hesitation: "Red Team."

The freshmen in the back row nearly burst into tears. Come on, was it really okay to disdain them right to their faces like this?

By the time the match ended, most of the Red Team members had already been eliminated, while the majority of the White Team were still in their sensors.

Since the neighboring viewing room was already full, students who had been cleared from the field early either squatted or stood by the training room entrance, glancing sideways at the distant screen.

Even in defeat, they wanted to witness the final scene with their own eyes.

As expected, it eventually ended.

One side cursed and wailed while the other stepped down from their machines to celebrate with high-fives.

When the two sides met, though somewhat awkward, they still shook hands as a gesture of goodwill.

There wasn't much to say. After some forced laughter, the Red Team members decided to head back to their dorm together first.

This humiliation was truly monumental. They couldn't lift their heads. They hadn't expected this outcome.

It was hard to pinpoint where things went wrong. It felt like the momentum had been tipping toward the White Team from the start, tightly gripping the Red Team's advantages and preventing them from being utilized. And then they lost.

It was kind of frustrating.

Lu Mingyuan had initially been very happy—after all, they'd won the match, and that result alone was worth celebrating. But when he walked out and saw the few boys marked in shit-yellow, his expression suddenly stiffened as he remembered the true purpose of this match.

Then he continued smiling.

...Whatever. Since everyone was so happy, he didn't want to remember.

When he first thought of them, Lu Mingyuan had indeed been a little angry. He'd wanted to deliver a beautiful counterattack to prove his abilities. That feeling of being suppressed and discriminated against was truly unpleasant.

But compared to the excitement of venting, he felt the joy of fighting alongside his teammates was greater.

Lu Mingyuan turned around, wanting to find Lian Sheng and say a few words to her. Several other students who had come down later were also looking for Lian Sheng.

Most of them still carried a dazed feeling from their victory. Though they'd harbored that tiny sliver of hope, they'd never truly expected it to come true!

A group of people who hadn't even touched the threshold of mech piloting had actually defeated elite seniors who'd undergone extra training.

Everyone enjoyed the sense of achievement that came from defeating the strong, and they were no exception.

The students looked around, only to realize Lian Sheng had already left.

At that moment, she emerged from the sea of people at the entrance and singled out the Red Team's commander-in-chief. Then, she extended her wicked little hand toward the sullen-faced student.

The surroundings instantly fell silent as all eyes gathered on them.

The White Team students swallowed their smiles and gulped.

Though they'd won the match, the Red Team were still their seniors. They really hoped Lian Sheng wouldn't be too impulsive.

They didn't want anything unexpected to happen to the commander who'd led them to victory. But not knowing what she intended to do, they couldn't speak up to stop her. So they took a step forward, ready to respond at any moment.

The Red Team members' eyes darkened as they stared straight at her.

They'd never been pushovers.

After a moment's hesitation, the Red Team commander-in-chief extended his hand.

"Hello," Lian Sheng said, as if oblivious to their change in demeanor, her tone still bland. "Thank you for your guidance in this match."

Her voice was clear in the environment, and the nearby students' faces darkened.

They couldn't tell if she was mocking them or showing off.

Guessing their thoughts, Lian Sheng proceeded to analyze on her own: "To be frank, the Red Team's level is indeed higher. Whether it's teamwork ability, individual combat capability, or adaptability in crisis situations. And most impressively, maintaining enough calm and objectivity no matter the circumstances. If this match had purely been about comparing team or individual strength, then we would indeed have lost."

Take, for example, the chaotic battle beneath the waterfall.

Lian Sheng hadn't briefed her team beforehand, so when the unexpected occurred, the White Team nearly fell into disarray. Very few responded correctly, and no one stepped forward to regain control of the situation.

They had coordination, but it wasn't the most rational—not based on actual combat conditions or teammates' situations. That adaptability seemed so fragile.

In contrast, the Red Team...

Faced with an even more perilous and urgent encirclement and ambush, they maintained their formation. In that emergency, the commander-in-chief had no time to issue any commands. Yet the Red Team swiftly implemented self-rescue measures. And after the situation passed, they continued adjusting and counterattacking.

They knew what they needed to do and were constantly executing it.

Though the team's morale was low, they remained a complete unit.

Leading such a team, no matter the situation, Lian Sheng would feel there was hope to fight another day.

This was the difference in quality between soldiers.

In truth, Lian Sheng believed that with soldiers of such caliber, the commander could afford to give them more freedom to operate. They already possessed the ability to judge danger for themselves, so what the commander should do was guide and explain. Barring special deployments, the initiative on the frontlines should always remain in the hands of the combatants.

The crowd was surprised that Lian Sheng was sincerely praising the Red Team.

The Red Team commander-in-chief's Adam's apple bobbed as he said, "They are indeed outstanding. Losing was my fault."

As he spoke, he glanced at Ji Fangxiao beside him, who shrugged and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"No, it wasn't your fault," Lian Sheng said solemnly again. "It was mine."

The boy redirected his gaze to her.

Lian Sheng said, "I was just too outstanding."

The crowd: "..." Oh, screw you!

They booed before dispersing, also heading back to their dorms to rest.

Ji Ban, not daring to squeeze through the crowd, stood at the very back and only came forward once the crowd began moving.

In the neighboring room, the instructors who'd been discussing finally stirred.

They stood and walked outside, blocking the passage Lian Sheng was about to take.

"You've worked hard," an instructor said. "Not bad. This training session seems to have had some effect."

The students straightened their backs and responded loudly: "Thank you, Instructor!"

The instructor then singled out Lian Sheng from the crowd.

The students spontaneously made way.

The instructor asked her, "If you were on the Red Team, at what point would you surrender?"

"I wouldn't surrender," Lian Sheng said, baffled. "Why would I surrender?"

The instructor thought she hadn't heard clearly: "I mean, if you were the Red Team's commander."

Lian Sheng nodded: "I mean, I wouldn't surrender."

Instructor: "..."

Instructor: "..."

Instructor: "You'd fight to the end?"

"I believe mechs can create miracles. Even with just one left, there's hope," Lian Sheng said. "I didn't see an inevitable defeat, so I wouldn't surrender."

Instructor: "You think one mech could take out fifty on the opposing side?"

"First of all, a one-versus-fifty situation never occurred," Lian Sheng said. "Secondly, if there's only one mech left, my objective absolutely wouldn't be to take out fifty enemy mechs."

The instructor, refusing to concede, said, "You think one mech could steal a tightly guarded prisoner from the enemy?"

"Why not? Your rules are full of loopholes anyway—what's one more?" Lian Sheng shrugged. "Stealing things or people is supposed to be done sneakily in the first place."

Crowd: "..."

The instructor turned to leave. The students followed with bowed heads, but he suddenly stopped again.

The instructor said, "Starting tomorrow, everyone will take a test. Those who pass won't have to mine anymore. Also, regarding this match, each of you will write me a thousand-word summary report."

With that, he left without looking back.

The students were momentarily dazed before realizing what he meant.

The freshmen exchanged glances, hardly daring to believe it. The seniors pouted, a hint of jealousy in their expressions.

"Does this mean... we're advancing?"

"No more mining? Oh my god!"

"Tsk tsk, you guys are moving fast. Be careful—if your foundation isn't solid, running too fast might make you crash."

"If it's not mining, it'll be ore collection. The entire 36th District is full of the damn stuff—enough to wear you out. Comrades, don't celebrate too soon."

"But if it's ore collection, we can use the sensors at night, right?"

"Not necessarily. If your physical fitness isn't up to par, it'll probably still be physical training."

"Physical training is one thing. Juniors, have you forgotten about assessments? Which base assessment is just for show? They eliminate people in batches."

"Sorry, juniors haven't experienced assessments yet."

"Then you can enjoy it properly this time."

"They've only been here for how long? Damn, the selection deaths haven't even started yet, right? Damn, just one month? Damn!"

"...Can you not damn so much?"

Meanwhile, the student leaders from various military academies who'd watched the match, along with passionate Sanyao netizens, were utterly shocked.

Most people, right up until the match was halfway through—no, to be precise, until it was officially declared over—had been waiting for another reversal to appear. Yet it had charged straight through to the end without even a splash.

They'd always believed this was an exhibition match, that there must have been a script and discussions. Letting the seniors lose would have been too humiliating.

To save face for both sides, the match's tone should have been passionate, dazzling, with multiple dramatic reversals, culminating in an unexpected yet reasonable outcome.

Dazzling it certainly was. Never before had they finished watching a match and doubted their own eyes so much.

The mechs' running speed was too fast for the naked eye to track. Combined with recording parameter adjustments, if the viewing angle was too close, the audience couldn't make out the scene at all. Moving objects all blurred into streaks. Thus, the broadcast used long-range shots.

But this meant close-combat aspects weren't captured very clearly.

Occasionally, a few frames from a player's perspective were spliced in, all of them chaotic. They tried to extract useful information from the rapidly passing scenery but found themselves unable to pinpoint the focus.

The spectators maintained solemn expressions, but inside, they were bleeding profusely.

From their conversations, it was clear they hadn't known about this livestream, so some information had inadvertently leaked.

Two points particularly caught their attention.

First, their training method in the 36th District was mining.

...They'd pretend they hadn't heard that. But during the holidays, they could visit the 36th District to check out the environment.

Second, would future matches have to prioritize high-speed movement with the new mech models? How had the freshmen completed such high-difficulty training in such a short time?

Undoubtedly, though the Red Team had lost, their individual performances were still brilliant.

Whether in pursuit, group maneuvers, or solo combat, their proficiency seemed ingrained in every movement. Their coordination was seamless, clearly accustomed to that mode.

As for the White Team, during the latter half's group movements, if they got too close, traffic accidents were prone to occur.

Though slower and more scattered, they maintained their rhythm overall. In just one month, their performance had improved dramatically compared to the selection matches.

Both the Red and White Teams were on a completely different level from them.

The gap was widening, and this realization filled all military academy students with a sense of crisis. They felt both envy and regret.

If only they could join the Expeditionary Army... They heard the sigh in their hearts. That was the starting point for stepping into a new world.

Truly befitting the training standards of the Expeditionary Army's special selections, this public match had been highly effective.

If such results could be achieved in just one month, why couldn't this training be extended to universities? If they could access these methods during high school or even earlier, wouldn't that mean a direct path to the pinnacle of life?

After all, the improvement was too drastic! It was like a complete transformation. No one could resist such temptation.

Even the upcoming selection match finals saw their value skyrocket, with attention soaring.

Though the major military academies didn't have the Expeditionary Army's training methods, they were beginning to recognize their importance.

This year, the Expeditionary Army was willing to help with collective training because they had their own objectives. But what about next year? The year after? They wouldn't take over training indefinitely, would they? Wouldn't that create a gap in student quality? Absolutely not!

They had to improve their training methods and adapt to the new mech models as soon as possible.

Outsiders only saw their rapid progress, but insiders understood. The students' improvement stemmed from adapting to the new mech models. The old models' functional limitations couldn't bring out the students' full potential, while the new mechs' enhanced performance demanded higher physical fitness from the students.

In essence, it was the students themselves who were strong.

They hadn't accomplished some miraculous leap. On the contrary, they'd undergone an even stricter internal elimination process.

For a time, all sorts of theories circulated online.

Because of this match, the students at the base once again drew countless envious stares—though they remained blissfully unaware. At the moment, they were just a bunch of pitiful souls, utterly disconnected from the internet.

Lian Sheng and the others sat in the cafeteria, eating their somewhat ill-timed dinner.

Lian Sheng's savory protein powder had officially run out, so she switched to the sweet kind.

When she stubbornly sprinkled the sweet protein powder into her plain salted noodles, she felt her life had been cast into hell.

The others stared at her expression, wondering if this new culinary creation had any potential.

Then they saw Lian Sheng cover her face and fall into silence.

The group followed suit, sinking into despair.

"I hate this," Fang Jianchen said, clutching his face. "I feel like I'm dying."

Ji Ban, rubbing his hand with an ice pack, asked, "Was I... okay today?"

Lian Sheng stirred her noodles with her chopsticks and nodded. "You were. Very good. If you hadn't performed well, we wouldn't have won today."

The group let out a half-hearted cheer.

Lian Sheng tilted her head in thought. She wondered if they accepted deliveries here. If so, she hoped Lin Lie could send her another box.

Next time she had leave, she'd find a signal and call to say hello.

The group lowered their heads, forcing down their noodles. After six hours of battle, they were genuinely hungry. But their stomachs weren't sending any signals to eat.

For Zhao Zhuoluo, who wasn't picky and had always used protein powder for flavoring, the taste wasn't too bad—just a bit bland.

Halfway through his bowl, he looked up to find Lian Sheng staring at him with blazing eyes.

Zhao Zhuoluo: "..."

"Bro," Lian Sheng pushed her bowl forward. "Save your poor commander."

The sweet-and-salty combination was truly disgusting. Lian Sheng knew pickiness was a bad habit—plain noodles were perfectly fine. She was just too spoiled.

Zhao Zhuoluo hesitated, then frowned and took a big bite.

He barely chewed before swallowing, then nudged the guy beside him with his elbow.

Thus, Cheng Ze, Ye Buqing, and the others, with the determination of martyrs, divided Lian Sheng's noodles among themselves.

Having gotten her way, Lian Sheng sat to the side eating her protein powder.

"You know, they really are impressive," Fang Jianchen remarked thoughtfully. "Seeing them march today was awe-inspiring. Do they often train as a group? That level of coordination... is it natural instinct or rigorous drilling?"

Ji Ban said, "If we were a team of manual mechs, we could do it too."

Fang Jianchen: "But we don't have a team of Ji Bans."

Ji Ban declared loudly: "Of course not!"

Zhao Zhuoluo: "This time, it was also thanks to Senior Lu knowing them so well."

A shadow fell over the table.

Lian Sheng glanced up. "Well, well." If it wasn't the shit-yellow brothers.

Lu Mingyuan also looked up before returning to his noodles.

Lian Sheng grabbed her protein powder. "Here to call me Dad?"

"We came to apologize. Last time, we went too far and didn't consider the consequences, but it wasn't intentional," the leader said, his face still dark and reluctant. "We lost this time, but that doesn't mean the seniors are weaker than you."

Lian Sheng: "Mhm. We never said that."

The boy said, "They lost miserably."

After all, the initial invitation had been to guide the freshmen. The seniors had been confident.

Most hadn't known the details and wanted to give it a try while training the juniors. Their intentions had been good, but ending up like this was humiliating.

Another boy said, "Your data analysis skills are indeed impressive."

After a pause, he asked hesitantly, "We heard from them just now, so we wanted to ask. We've never trained together—how did you know each of our traits? Or can command students access our training videos?"

Even as he spoke, he dismissed the idea.

He found it unlikely. Even if they could access them, it didn't mean they would. They themselves couldn't be bothered to watch.

Everyone was busy. Who had time to analyze their training results one by one? Where would they find the hours?

But Lu Mingyuan said, "I do watch them."

Oh, it's Valentine's Day today.

Not too late—wishing you all a happy Valentine's Day~

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