First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 175
Chapter 175: Tempering
Lian Sheng and Zhao Zhuoluo reached their first turning point.
She leaned out, observing the wall for a while.
The wall had several small tracks along which fist-sized detectors patrolled back and forth.
Lian Sheng glanced at the wall, then at the diagram, repeating this rapid up-and-down motion several times before lightly sliding her fingers to identify the correct route classification.
Zhao Zhuoluo worried she might twist her neck too fast and snap it.
Finally, Lian Sheng slowed her movements and said, "Judging by the angle changes, it should be forty-six."
Zhao Zhuoluo looked down at the diagram in her hand. It only showed various arrows indicating the detectors' turning patterns, which appeared completely random. Each arrow corresponded to a route. Frowning, he asked, "Is there really a difference? Can you actually tell?"
The detectors' turns followed a fixed sequence of eighteen movements before repeating. With careful observation, it was possible to discern the pattern.
"Yes. Though it's nauseating to look at," Lian Sheng said, her eyes aching. "Run left now, pass two intersections—about two hundred meters—then turn right. Remember, not even a second late."
Zhao Zhuoluo nodded. "Got it."
He crouched slightly, preparing to move.
A two-hundred-meter sprint required building momentum to accelerate, reaching peak speed midway, then decelerating toward the end. If he overshot the mark and entered the next trap zone, he'd be done for.
But human inertia was inevitable. The node was only two meters wide—too narrow to brake sharply at high speed. Yet if he ran too slowly, he wouldn't evade the detectors in the first half.
Speed control was crucial. But how could anyone gauge their exact speed while running?
Lian Sheng felt uneasy too. She wasn't sure how well she and Zhao Zhuoluo could synchronize. If he hesitated even slightly, it would mean she'd sent him to his doom.
Clenching her fingers, she wiped them on her pants and commanded, "Listen to my orders!"
Zhao Zhuoluo tilted his head slightly. Those four words conjured an image of Lian Sheng's fiercely confident face in his mind, calming him instantly.
When Lian Sheng barked, "Run!" his body moved before his brain could process it, launching forward at full speed.
His strides stretched to their limit, wringing out every ounce of strength.
The scenery blurred past him, his mind briefly blanking out.
Lian Sheng kept her eyes fixed on his position and the detectors on the wall, then shouted sharply, "Prepare to decelerate and turn!"
Zhao Zhuoluo snapped back to focus. Two hundred meters was a short distance. He immediately began slowing down, veering toward the opposite wall.
His leg muscles burned as he dashed into the side passage, grabbing the wall to halt himself.
Once safely at the target point, he looked up and saw a screen glowing blue.
As he stopped, he tried adjusting his stance but found his limbs stiff, his breathing uncontrolled.
He was scared. He was still so young.
Zhao Zhuoluo kept his expression neutral, masking his fear. He touched his throat, quickly tapped the screen mounted on the wall, and called out, "I'm here! Give me the access code!"
Lian Sheng heard a loud thud—sound amplified in the confined space—followed by silence. A grim image flashed through her mind, and for a moment, she feared Zhao Zhuoluo had fallen before even starting.
Hearing his voice now, she exhaled in relief.
Without another word, she began reciting the access code for this section, cross-referencing the map. Who would've thought she'd become a technician one day?
Soon, the detectors along their path deactivated, the mechanisms halting.
Lian Sheng assumed a sprinting stance. "My turn!"
They had obtained a temporary access code, but it only worked for a short distance. To penetrate deeper, Lian Sheng would have to run the next stretch herself.
Zhao Zhuoluo stared at the screen, stunned. He wanted to tell her not to try—the next section's traps were still active, and overshooting would get her sliced to pieces. Then he heard footsteps.
His heart lurched. He leaned around the corner and caught the runner by the legs.
Lian Sheng tripped, slamming face-first into the ground. She barely managed to cushion the impact with her hands, but her head still hit hard.
A loud thud echoed through the space—and inside Lian Sheng's skull.
Lian Sheng: "..."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "..."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "..."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "..."
Clutching her head, Lian Sheng realized she'd sprinted too fast. Without someone guiding her, controlling speed was nearly impossible.
Grimacing, she said, "Don't say a word. I get it. Let's keep going."
Doctor Lin piloted the Moshi. As a manually operated mech, its cockpit differed from standard models.
He had reconfigured it for transport mode, with seating for two in the back. However, transforming into combat mode now would risk crushing them.
Before boarding, Doctor Lin warned them to stay silent to avoid distracting Lian Sheng during her challenge. In high-stakes situations, even the slightest noise could induce panic.
The two boys in the back nodded vigorously, huddling together like chicks, clutching the communicator and holding their breath.
But Doctor Lin drove the mech with reckless abandon. Perhaps cross-professional operators tended to be bold—regardless, he plowed through barriers, relying on the mech's sturdy frame to bulldoze past obstacles.
Fortunately, Moshi's stability and shock absorption were top-notch, and after enduring its abuse at the base, they could tolerate the rough ride.
Doctor Lin suddenly asked, "How's it going? Any problems?"
The students, touched by what they assumed was concern for them, replied, "None."
Doctor Lin snapped, "I meant relay the message!"
Only then did they disable the mute function and ask, "Any problems?"
Lian Sheng, busy verifying the next route, answered, "None."
The boys repeated shakily, "None."
Doctor Lin executed a sharp turn, parking the mech at the edge of the combat zone. Then he snatched the communicator from them.
The students looked outside. Alliance forces were assembling, preparing to advance inward.
The sky and surroundings bore scars from explosive attacks—collapsed structures, fires, shattered glass, and dust clouds everywhere.
The road ahead was blocked, impassable for vehicles. Thankfully, they were in a mech.
Moshi's soundproofing was excellent, yet they thought they heard the "boom" of artillery fire. At first, they assumed it was their imagination—until they realized it came from the communicator.
They turned, curious about what was happening. Doctor Lin sat motionless in the front, staring at the communicator.
Their challenge was monotonous, essentially a repetitive process.
But this endless, looping path drained their stamina at an alarming rate.
The distance wasn't far, but the difficulty was immense. The slightest mistake could be fatal, and the margin for error was unforgiving.
They avoided mentioning what Doctor Lin had said earlier—about Expeditionary Force soldiers dying in security tunnels.
Not in District 36, but somewhere else. As time passed, even without Doctor Lin's descriptions, they understood what those soldiers must have felt.
This mechanism was torture for both body and willpower.
Lian Sheng rubbed her eyes and continued issuing commands.
Attempting rapid deceleration over short distances without proper support inevitably caused physical strain.
For sharp turns, rolling was the fastest way to slow down. But mistiming it risked neck or head injuries. Earlier, Zhao Zhuoluo had bent over too abruptly and hit his head. Dizziness overwhelmed him, taking a long time to subside, and his ears still rang faintly, as if his hearing had dulled.
This time, he didn't dare repeat the mistake and instead grabbed the wall.
His grip failed—his palms were sweaty and slippery. He dug his fingertips in desperately to steady himself.
Having been trapped in the bunker for days, his nails had grown out slightly.
Zhao Zhuoluo adjusted his stance, pivoted smoothly, and slammed his back against the wall. Ignoring the impact, he checked his fingers.
His nails had torn halfway off, dangling by shreds of flesh. Pain registered belatedly, and his eyes reddened slightly.
He curled his fingers into a fist, careful not to aggravate the injury.
From the other side, Lian Sheng asked, "You okay?"
Zhao Zhuoluo shook his head. "Fine. Come over. I'll catch you."
He let Lian Sheng charge forward boldly, then reached out to grab her.
The two pressed onward, stumbling repeatedly.
After three or four hours, they'd only covered half the distance.
Looking at the complex terrain on the map, Lian Sheng felt a toothache coming on. She wished she could run straight through—never had she hated curves so much.
Sitting beside Zhao Zhuoluo, she wiped her face and leaned against the wall. "Let's rest for a bit."
Zhao Zhuoluo removed his jacket, trying to tear it into strips. His fingers lacked strength, so he used his teeth to rip the fabric, wrapping it around his injured fingers and forehead.
Rolling up his pants, he checked his bruised knees. Fortunately, they were only swollen, not bleeding.
He turned to Lian Sheng, inspecting her for wounds that needed bandaging.
Both were disheveled, but Lian Sheng looked particularly ghastly. Earlier, she'd smeared a soldier's blood across her face and hadn't had a chance to wash it off. Now, sprawled on the ground with her legs splayed, she resembled a breathing corpse.
"Thirsty," Lian Sheng said. "Should've eaten breakfast before leaving the bunker."
Suddenly remembering something, she sat up slightly. "Right, Doctor Lin! We have no water or food. If we'd stayed put waiting for you to fight your way in, we'd have been finished anyway."
She nodded, satisfied. "Might as well work for ourselves. Let's go."
Zhao Zhuoluo hugged his arms. "Maybe you should stay here. I'll go the rest of the way alone. It's only half the distance—not far."
Lian Sheng patted his shoulder. "Comrade Zhao Excellent, tired?"
Zhao Zhuoluo admitted honestly, "Exhausted."
Lian Sheng said, "Then shut up and rest. No more nonsense."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "..." Screw her.
Grumbling, he said, "Can't you say something nice for once?"
"Sure," Lian Sheng replied. "Zhao Excellent, brilliant and talented, righteous and unyielding, majestic and indomitable..."
Lian Sheng continued, "Heroic and fearless, dignified and unbreakable..."
Annoyed, Lian Sheng nudged him. "Why aren't you stopping me?"
Zhao Zhuoluo said, "Wanted to see how many adjectives you could list."
"Heh." Lian Sheng scoffed. "You'd never remember them all anyway, no matter how many times I repeat them."
Zhao Zhuoluo snorted.
A brief silence fell before Lian Sheng spoke again. "Got any last wishes?"
"Last wishes?" Zhao Zhuoluo frowned at the morbid term and shook his head. "No."
Lian Sheng said, "No last wishes? Then why become a soldier?"
Zhao Zhuoluo: "What? You're saying soldiers should prepare their last words first?"
Lian Sheng crossed her legs smugly. "Well, I have one."
Zhao Zhuoluo: "Which is?"
Lian Sheng: "Come back to life."
"..." Zhao Zhuoluo: "..."
At first, Zhao Zhuoluo didn't react. Then, after a pause, he found it hilarious. The more he thought about it, the funnier it seemed, and he couldn't suppress a laugh. "Like a zombie?"
"Don't care if it's reanimation or possession." Lian Sheng raised a hand, squinting at the light between her fingers. "Don't want to die. Need to see the outcome with my own eyes."
Zhao Zhuoluo pondered this, then nodded. "You're right."
After sitting for a while, he stood up. "Let's go. Any longer and we'll stiffen up."
Lian Sheng: "Roger that."
They progressed further, but soon, even the static in the communicator vanished. They had lost signal.
Doctor Lin's end also showed a disconnected status.
They had moved beyond official communication range.
The two boys in Doctor Lin's mech finally dared to speak. "They're in underground tunnels? How'd they get in?"
"How far in? Can people even enter there? What are they trying to do?"
Doctor Lin tossed the device back to them and restarted the mech. "Get ready. Be careful."
The messengers repeated, "Get ready. Be careful," then remembered there was no signal.
Doctor Lin said irritably, "I was talking to you! Turn off the communicator and stash it in your inner pocket."
They complied.
Doctor Lin said, "We're going in. Watch yourselves."
The boys hugged the signal converter. "What? Into the combat zone? Just us?"
Moshi reactivated and accelerated forward.
As they breached the defensive line, weapons at distant checkpoints immediately swiveled to target them.
Lin Shu had never piloted a manual mech before—his closest experience was video games from his youth. But his fingers had undergone rigorous training, given his profession.
Now, he charged ahead like it was a game.
Hold on, kids! I'm coming!
[Note: "Doctor Lin's she is a typo. Gender was never ambiguous. Overthinking it -.-#"]
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