Chapter 44: The Refined Warrior’s Tactics

Ren Zhong’s resolve to obtain “Sid Meier’s Armored Insights” was unwavering.

He was not swayed to folly by the allure of advertising slogans.

He had his own judgment.

This was knowledge, strategy—something that could be engraved in the mind, precious experience.

Even if, by some misfortune, he were to perish again...

Yes, memory could be “carried” back together with contribution points accumulated through sleep, becoming fixed assets—the spiral accelerant for the next awakening, sparing him from many detours.

One purchase, benefits for lifetimes.

The more he died, the more he profited.

...

Day eight, on the journey home.

“Ren, you should take it easy tomorrow. You were relentless today! If you keep pushing like this, our bodies won’t keep up with your pace! Oh, I can’t take it—I’ll need a bottle of fast-absorbing nutrient solution to recover when we get back.”

Zheng Tian drove with her left hand, pounding her thigh with her right as she lamented.

Her hair was disheveled, dirtied and knotted; her face was streaked with a dense layer of sweat.

The others in the car were little better.

Chen Hanyu, in the passenger seat, finally put away her tablet and reclined, eyes closed, resting.

Bai Feng leaned against the right window, barely alive, his knee-length prosthetic arms trembling.

Usually talkative, Ou Youning was now wilted like a frostbitten eggplant, listless. Every pocket on his body was empty; all his bombs and explosives had been used up—there wasn’t a drop left.

As for Wen Lei—well, he was always face-down, serving as a seat cushion. Deep, thunderous snores rumbled from beneath.

Ren Zhong was no better, his hands trembling like leaves.

Hearing Zheng Tian’s “complaints” from the front, he forced a smile and said, “Thank you all. I’m very satisfied with today’s training.”

He actually wanted to tell them, if one didn’t fight desperately every day, how could fate be changed?

But he had no wish to shed his “Census Officer” guise, and could not say anything out of character.

After dealing with the professional team’s extortion that morning, under Ren Zhong’s relentless urging, the squad’s actions became wild and unrestrained.

The Thunderbolt car, like a rabid beast, dashed over fifteen hundred kilometers, sweeping through three concentrated zones including Rat Cliff Mountain.

And unlike before, when the squad would deliberately avoid second-level Ruin Beasts, today they spared none they encountered, with rare exceptions.

Throughout the day, the squad never rested—either fighting, on the way to fight, or preparing traps upon spotting Ruin Beast tracks.

They battled until four in the afternoon, stopping only when nearly out of ammunition and supplies.

Counting their gains, they had destroyed thirty-six first-level Ruin Beasts and three second-level, netting a profit of 150 points—higher than their first day in Rat Cliff Mountain.

The main reason for this phenomenon was Ren Zhong’s ferocious outburst.

Yesterday he had merely tested his strength, but today he was fiercer, bolder; his combat style shifted from careful calculation to a refined recklessness—rough yet precise, wild yet meticulous.

Additionally, under Chen Hanyu’s hands-on guidance, he borrowed her gloves and tentatively dismantled six first-level Ruin Beasts.

The first two he botched, losing nearly half their value.

The next two, by Chen Hanyu’s standards, he barely met the criteria for a novice first-level dismantler; though he failed to achieve the perfect grade, he crossed the 70% threshold for the excellent grade.

With the fifth, his luck shone—a perfect-grade product.

The sixth was another excellent-grade, a steady performance.

After being crushed by his mecha-warrior talent, his teammates suffered further at his hands.

To think that someone could excel at everything—perhaps this was what the mythic tales called a monster.

Faced with their shock, confusion, awe, envy, and resentment, Ren Zhong was somewhat perplexed.

Wasn’t it simple?

He hadn’t even tried before; who knew that becoming a dismantler was so easy?

Just memorize the Ruin Beasts’ physiological structures like a butcher, then act with the precision of a surgeon, using a mere 51.3 brain response index and unremarkable hand stability, operating the gloves as naturally as his full body armor, seamlessly issuing commands through his fingers—wasn’t that all?

He found the knack after only two tries, truly unable to understand why his companions were so flustered, as if they’d never seen the world.

In short, since the squad’s ability to challenge second-level Ruin Beasts repeatedly was mainly due to Ren Zhong’s outburst, the others unanimously decided to give him fifty contribution points; the remaining hundred were split among the five.

Everyone had to admit that, since this undercover “Census Officer” joined as a temporary member, the entire team’s morale and professionalism had soared.

Apart from his hidden upper-level connections, Ren Zhong’s personal abilities alone brought changes to the squad that rivaled, if not surpassed, the Thunderbolt car.

Such sentiment among the team is commonly called “dependency.”

...

After selling their loot and dividing the spoils, Zheng Tian claimed to have urgent business and did not dine with the others; her whereabouts were unknown.

Ou Youning and Bai Feng each went to meet lovers—youthful, passionate, needing a soft harbor to rest after battle.

Chen Hanyu, perhaps stimulated or finally having saved enough, went to the armory to purchase second-level dismantling gloves.

In the small courtyard, only Ren Zhong and Wen Lei remained, staring at each other.

Wen Lei held a bowl, scooping mouthfuls of synthetic meat mash and organic compounds from an oversized bowl.

This fare was more nutritious than what the bottom-dwelling wastelanders ate, and costlier, but tasted much the same.

“Ren, I’ve decided—from tonight, I’ll train in the intermediate zone for four hours every day.”

Wen Lei mumbled, mouth full.

Ren Zhong, who had finished eating first and was studying dismantler knowledge on his tablet, paused, set down his teacup, and asked, “What’s wrong? Feeling challenged?”

Wen Lei nodded, then shook his head. “Not exactly challenged. My brain-machine synchronization rate is fifteen percent now, brain response index just at forty, power load thirty-three point two kilowatts, physical index forty-six. Still far from a second-level warrior, but everyone seems eager to push for this month’s assessment, and... I don’t want to be left behind.”

As he spoke, Wen Lei, a man two meters and twenty-six centimeters tall, unconsciously rubbed his chest pocket watch with his chopstick hand.

Ren Zhong asked instinctively, “Why is there such a disparity between your load and physical index?”

Wen Lei set aside the pocket watch, sighed. “Ren, did Manager Ju ever tell you about the joke I made during testing? My initial synchronization was thirteen percent, and after half a year, it’s only fifteen. The low sync rate is why my load and physical index are so mismatched.”

Ren Zhong calculated, “At most, you can train eight more nights before the assessment. Your money will just suffice, but will that get you to second-level?”

Wen Lei clenched his fist. “I plan to turn the training armor’s load mode to maximum and force myself for a while. Plus, I want to spar with the robot for four hours, like you do—intense and reciprocal. If someone as distinguished as you can persist, I can’t afford to be weak anymore. I must learn from you!”

Ren Zhong: “But aren’t you already exhausted today?”

Wen Lei shook his head. “I can still keep going. Even if my parameters fall short during the assessment, there’s still a chance for an extraordinary performance and passing by luck. After all, the assessment tests combat ability, not stats. I heard about a mecha warrior named Sid Meier—he was legendary.”

Seeing Wen Lei’s determination to fight to the end, Ren Zhong’s lips quivered, but he could not object.

“Alright, do your best. If you run out of money, let me know—I’ll settle the bill for you. If possible, I’ll ask Ju Qingmeng for extra nutrition packs.”

“Thank you, Ren!”

“You’re welcome.”