Chapter 75: He Is Smarter Than You, and a Better Fighter

This was a visual feast for first-class mech warriors.

Wen Lei had never imagined that someone could turn deadly combat into an art form. He had never considered that a first-class warrior could challenge a balanced second-class Ruin Beast alone. He always thought Sid Meier’s stories were legends. Now, the legend was unfolding before his eyes.

He stared without blinking for the entire fight. Ren Zhong’s stats were far inferior to the enhanced Screeching Wolf—direct confrontation would be a death sentence. Yet, with a brain reaction index of 53.9 leading the charge, supported by a carrying power of 22.4 kilowatts and a physical index of 27.4, Ren Zhong displayed innate artistry in real combat.

Ren Zhong avoided direct clashes, constantly maneuvering. Every strike of his sword was as light as a dragonfly’s touch, never aiming to break the beast’s defense. Whenever the Screeching Wolf showed signs of a fierce counterattack, Ren Zhong would instantly retreat. Each time, his escape seemed perilous, as if he might collapse at any moment. Yet, no matter how dangerous the situation appeared, the Screeching Wolf couldn’t touch him.

The onlookers felt their scalps tingle, the scene twisted their perception. It seemed as if Ren Zhong was the higher-level being, not the enhanced Screeching Wolf. He looked like a master, at least third-class, deliberately suppressing his output to play with his prey.

From his first sword swing, Ren Zhong had developed a combat method based on Master Yu Chenghui’s dual-sword technique. Though he only saw a brief video, and his memory was vague, he captured the essence of weapon inertia combined perfectly with the human body, adapting it to exoskeleton-based mech fighting.

When he first used this sword technique against the wounded Crystal Armored Long-Tailed Rat, it was only a tentative step. Since then, with each battle, he kept experimenting and refining his skills. On the last night of his previous life, after seizing a fourth-class wristwatch from Bei Lihui, he entered the hell-level second-class virtual reality training, grinding for eight hours straight.

With the risk-free, yet hyper-realistic combat experience, he tested every refined movement against various second-class Ruin Beasts. He pushed, verified, improved, verified again, and kept improving...

Eight hours of hell-level VR training gave him the practical experience most scavengers only achieve in a year. Incidentally, the most frequent opponent in that hell-level VR was the enhanced Screeching Wolf.

Ren Zhong was more familiar with the Screeching Wolf than with old foes like the Blade Mantis and Crystal Wing Dragonfly. He knew its temperament, understood its attack patterns. Just the bristling of its fur—Ren Zhong could deduce from its orientation and subtle posture whether it would pounce with claws or lunge with fangs at his throat.

When its neck bent at a certain angle, he knew it was about to unleash its signature Screech. Ren Zhong anticipated everything, and executed the skills honed in virtual reality.

The flexible metal transmission chain added by Ju Qingmeng supported movements beyond the capabilities of standard first-class exoskeletons, making this scene possible.

Finally, the Screeching Wolf leaped back three meters, lowered its head, jaws wide open, and raised its head sharply—it was about to unleash its ultimate move.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Eight explosions thundered from its throat. It died, utterly...

In short, the Screeching Wolf’s luck was abysmal; its death was miserable. Its throat was blown apart.

The killer was eight thumb-sized grenades, fired in four rounds of double shots from Ren Zhong’s two shoulder-mounted close-range cannons.

Rewind two seconds: when the Screeching Wolf tired of fruitless entanglement and began gathering internal energy for its ultimate move, Ren Zhong preemptively activated his cannons, unleashing eight shots in a split second.

Its head hadn’t fully raised—only halfway up—when it perfectly intercepted the eight grenades flying side by side. Precision feeding, indeed.

Once the Screeching Wolf stopped struggling, Ren Zhong paused for a few seconds, exhaling deeply.

Tonight’s battle was exhilarating. For once, he hadn't activated his advanced device or used preset programs to auto-fight; he relied solely on his reactions and standard output to suppress an enemy above his class.

A very promising start.

Sid Meier’s path is now even smoother for me.

Ren Zhong dusted off his hands and beckoned to the stunned workers, “Come dismantle the crystal chips. It’s late—we need to hurry back.”

As Chen Hanyu started working, Ou Youning, ever the fool, rushed over and grabbed Ren Zhong’s thigh.

“Ren, you’re incredible! Completely unreasonable! Even the legendary Sid Meier wouldn’t be worthy to carry your shoes!”

Ren Zhong’s face flushed as he waved his hands, “That’s too much, really. My combat ideas owe much to Sid Meier’s insights—he’s a skilled predecessor.”

Ou Youning shook his head vigorously, “I don’t know him. But honestly, I feel like the protagonist in a story—Ren, you’re my cheat grandpa, here to carry me!”

Ren Zhong: “…”

Are you kidding me?

Why are you adding drama?

Do you even realize you were the first to stab me back then?

You left your grandpa exposed in the wild—does your grandpa know? Won’t he jump out of his grave to smack your head?

The others hid their faces in embarrassment, even Chen Hanyu’s hands trembled as she nearly failed to extract a perfect chip.

Around 8:20 p.m., the team returned to town and sold their goods at Spark Resources.

The total revenue was 114 points; deducting the cost of two Heat-Sucking Trick Mines (20 points) and other minor costs (7 points), the net profit was 87 points.

Ren Zhong took 60 for himself, leaving 27 for the rest to divide. It was fair.

He seemed to take more, but in truth he bore the loss.

That night, Ren Zhong didn’t go to the communal sleep pods; instead, he worked overtime, switched to the Thunder Car, and headed straight for Rat Cliff Mountain to recoup his daytime losses. The blood and carnage returned after a day’s absence.

Zheng Tian’s team had passed their ordeal with only a scare.

In the following days, Ren Zhong resumed his relentless journey of self-improvement.

At night, he continued harvesting Ruin Beasts from memory, inflicting pain on Spark Town’s neighbors. By day, he kept trading cheap short-term stocks, stirring the market. He tagged along with Zheng Tian’s team in their box truck hunts, napped in the mornings, and trained through combat in the afternoons.

Sometimes, he had to clear his stock positions before afternoon, giving the others a heads-up: he’d be obviously slacking off until a certain time, and unless the sky fell, they shouldn’t disturb him.

The stock market is risky; enter with caution.

Don’t oversleep, or you’ll meet at the rooftop.

This time was very different from before. Ren Zhong became Zheng Tian’s team’s route planner.

The behind-the-scenes strategist personally avoided areas he’d already cleared, ending the team’s days of hardship.

Of course, to prevent the team from earning too much and growing too fast, Ren Zhong no longer taught clever tricks for dealing with second or third-class Ruin Beasts. He only stepped in for live demonstrations when he found a second-class opponent he liked, using the opportunity to practice.

He kept the team’s income only slightly higher than before—nothing excessive, just manageable.

Because he contributed without exerting himself, he refused Zheng Tian’s skewed distribution, taking only a little extra, not too much.

Thanks to Ren Zhong’s micro-management—and the absence of the Thunder Car—the team didn’t show signs of rapid advancement.

After Zheng Tian met Bei Lihui’s tough demands, the latter stopped bothering them for days, seeing no profit in it.

Unnoticed, time slipped to the thirteenth evening; a qualitative change occurred.

...

“You’re now a standard second-class mech warrior.”

In the Talent Testing room of the Arms Mall, Ju Qingmeng looked at the cabinet and said, “Your brain-machine synchronization rate has reached a staggering 29.99%.”

“Why add ‘staggering’ as a prefix?”

Ju Qingmeng: “Because you’re really a freak! No one increases synchronization like this! Most people barely exceed 20% when they first reach second-class, and only gradually fill up between second and third class. You’re abnormal!”

Now that everyone was more familiar, Ju Qingmeng spoke casually.

Ren Zhong coughed lightly, “Alright, what about my other stats?”

“Bioelectric carrying power: 50.17 kilowatts. Brain reaction index: 55.29. Physical composite index: 51.35.”

Ren Zhong’s compulsiveness was satisfied.

He exhaled comfortably, “The other two indices have finally caught up. My weaknesses are gone—now I’m a perfect equilateral triangle warrior.”

He thought to himself, last time, his carrying power on day fifteen was only 46.9.

With Sun’s sponsorship this time, and his own harder work, the progress was obvious and gratifying.

Ju Qingmeng: “Equilateral triangle warrior? What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“But I think you shouldn’t be too happy yet. Your brain reaction index was unusually high before—that was your talent. Now you’ve exhausted your talent, and the brain reaction index is becoming average. So it’s not your weaknesses that have been fixed, but your strengths that have been caught up.”

Ren Zhong silently looked at Ju Qingmeng, unsure what to say.

After all, he couldn’t tell her that someday, his brain reaction index might soar to 10,000 while the other indices dropped flat?

He imagined a scene:

One day, he resurrects.

Brain reaction index: 10,000.

Bioelectric carrying power: 1 kilowatt.

Physical composite index: 5.

From equilateral triangle warrior to single-line warrior.

How touching—his brain might cry!

One prodigy dragging three weaklings—who could bear it?

Ju Qingmeng: “Why do you look so torn between laughter and tears?”

“Ah, nothing. Just remembered some happy things from before.”

Ju Qingmeng approached, peeling patches off him, and asked, “What’s your plan for tomorrow? Still going with Zheng Tian’s group? If I remember, tomorrow the professional teams will lead a hunt in White Bone Valley. The town’s pro teams aren’t easy to deal with. Your recent actions have caught their attention—you should be careful.”

Ren Zhong nodded, “Yes, thanks.”

Ju Qingmeng blushed slightly, “No need to thank me. I’m just afraid of bringing you trouble.”

Ren Zhong smiled and countered, “If there’s no trouble, would I not go looking for your enemies? Since we’re already rivals, there’s no need to be timid.”

“That’s true. But at your pace, those rumors might reach Chongyi County by the time you’re beyond fear.”

“Haha, let’s hope so.”

Though Ren Zhong restrained himself, his presence greatly strengthened Zheng Tian’s team.

From the eighth day onward, five days of steady gains did not escape Lin Wang’s notice.

On the tenth day, when everyone returned to the parking lot, Lin Wang—normally stiff-necked and aloof—rarely glanced at the box truck, his gaze lingering meaningfully on Ren Zhong.

Normally, in a few days, Bei Lihui would come interrogate Ren Zhong personally.

But yesterday, when Bei Lihui and Lin Wang visited the mall for supplies, Ren Zhong happened to be there, asking Ju Qingmeng for a minor equipment upgrade.

Knowing Ren Zhong’s concerns, Ju Qingmeng made a quick decision—publicly wrapping her arm around his and chatting intimately.

Ren Zhong was initially confused and anxious, but when he saw Bei Lihui and Lin Wang’s shocked faces rushing over, he understood Ju Qingmeng’s intent.

Ju Qingmeng wasn’t ordinary. Her affection was a shield.

“Tomorrow I’ll go with them to White Bone Valley.”

“You need the money?”

“It’s not really about the income—I just want to get familiar with the terrain in White Bone Valley.”

Ju Qingmeng asked nervously, “You’re not planning to go in alone someday, are you?”

Ren Zhong laughed, “Who knows what the future holds? People must always challenge themselves, to reach a life without regrets, right?”

Ju Qingmeng squinted, “You’re right, but I hope you don’t die. I’m still waiting for you to save me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never die.”

“Alright, I’ll start upgrading your gear now. Since you don’t want to wear a second-class exoskeleton yet, I’ll modify your first-class armor to perform like a second-class special combat suit.”

“Much obliged.”

At 9:40 p.m., fully armored, Ren Zhong left the Arms Mall, tightened the twin blades on his back, and rode his electric motorcycle into the wild.

Tonight, without bodyguards or specialized equipment, he would face second-class Ruin Beasts head-on.

The power he’d built up was finally ready to draw blood without restraint.

Ren Zhong reached back and gently stroked the massive leather scabbard.

Inside was his old friend.

The heavy Arc Blade.

Though it was his first time touching this blade, it felt intimately familiar.

Armor couldn’t be upgraded yet, but second-class weapons were already in use.

On the outside of the Arc Blade, he still carried his alloy combat sword.

A sword and a blade crossed on his back, forming an X.

A dual-blade warrior—wild and untamed.