Chapter Seventy-Four: A Brief Battle

Johansen was the first to receive the signal from Ye Chong's F-58. Among the Black Horns, there were several unique methods of communication between mechas. As long as the two were within five hundred kilometers of each other, they would automatically establish contact. The Starlight Blaze soon locked onto the F-58's position; if not for Ye Chong, under Mu's guidance, having dismantled an important optical circuit, this process would have taken even less time. However, the signal was fleeting—a mere flash—leading Johansen to surmise that Number 58 had already stowed away his mecha.

He boarded the Starlight Blaze at top speed. The upper echelons of the Black Horns paid special attention to Number 58. Although his time with them had been brief, his innate abilities and rate of improvement during training far surpassed the norm, making him the finest among all the warriors the Black Horns had cultivated over the years. More importantly, the leadership believed he had even greater potential for growth. All these factors made it clear that the Black Horns would not easily let him go.

The Black Horns’ intelligence network was formidable. They had managed to trace a clue to Number 58, following the trail all the way to Blue Ocean Star.

Johansen had expected it would take him a long time to find Number 58, yet to his surprise he discovered him embroiled in a conflict with the Mecha Warriors’ Association. He felt disdainful; that Bai Ke was not particularly formidable. If not for Number 58’s abrupt withdrawal, which distracted him, Bai Ke would have died that day!

And that Number 58 from Group F—how foolish, to dare confront the Association’s Bai Ke with nothing but a training mecha!

His orders from the Black Horns were simple: bring Number 58 back. Of everyone, only he and Instructor Huck had seen Number 58’s true face. Johansen was confident in this mission. He still remembered the look of hunger for power in Number 58’s eyes—it convinced him that if he could find him, he would surely succeed. This mission was worth fifty Black Horn points; if he completed it, he would have enough to advance to the next level of training.

The thought ignited a burning fire in his eyes; his fists clenched so tight they cracked. If only—if only he had enough strength, he too could…

A graceful silhouette seemed to drift before his eyes, making Johansen’s heart tremble violently.

It took him some time to regain his composure, but he never expected Number 58 would choose to flee. Had he lost his thirst for power?

No matter what, this mission had to be completed! If Number 58 wouldn’t come willingly, well… A cold gleam flashed in Johansen’s eyes. Besides, by now, that event should be starting soon!

At nearly seven Hertz, the Starlight Blaze could reach Number 58’s location in just thirty seconds. If not for the time spent confirming the target’s position, Johansen would already be upon him.

The black Starlight Blaze soared through the night sky like a harbinger of death. High-speed airflow swept over its black blades and barbs, emitting a chilling wail that struck terror into the heart!

This had to be the place. Johansen looked at the unremarkable base below; the optical computer had shown that Number 58 was here. The Starlight Blaze hovered overhead, scanning at maximum capacity, again and again, but still failed to pick up the F-58’s signal!

Had Number 58 entered the base or already left it?

Johansen hesitated only briefly, then dove downward as other mechas whistled past. In the Black Horns, every mecha kept a safe distance from the others—an unspoken rule, born of mutual suspicion. Get too close, and the other might consider you hostile, possibly responding with a lethal strike.

Never allow anyone too close! Such is the unique code of the Black Horns.

However, once outside their domain, such behavior seemed bizarre. On a planet like Blue Ocean Star, where humans lived in astronomical numbers and mechas filled the sky, it was impossible to maintain a constant distance from others. In the brief span of a dozen seconds, several mechas had already flown right past him! The Starlight Blaze’s counter-surveillance system was superior even to the F-58’s; ordinary mechas’ sensors could not detect its presence. If Johansen hadn’t actively dodged, several craft would have collided with him.

It was a discomforting experience for Johansen, who had not left the Black Horns for a long time.

Another mecha approached head-on, its flight path indicating a high probability of collision. Blue and white in color, its design was relatively new, but what caught Johansen’s eye was the archaic spear it carried—a rare sight for a mecha. Such weapons, long obsolete, required special skill to wield; without it, they were far less practical than a laser sword or plasma blade.

Johansen paid it little mind. Seeing it was an unfamiliar craft, he simply edged aside by a few meters, avoiding a collision. Given the prevalence of mechas and the lack of government restrictions on their appearance, all manner of strange designs were commonplace. Once, he’d even seen a mecha modified to resemble an ancient sanitation fixture called a “toilet”—its owner, reportedly, a passionate collector of such objects. Johansen, with his limited imagination, could never understand how anyone could associate hoofed animals, round containers, and personal sanitation.

Compared to that, the mecha before him was positively ordinary. Perhaps its owner was merely an enthusiast for ancient weaponry, Johansen mused.

His attention was entirely focused on the archaic spear in the blue-white mecha’s hand. He failed to notice that its speed far exceeded that of ordinary mechas. Even if he had, he might not have cared; the Starlight Blaze was among the fastest in existence!

The other pilot appeared unaware of Johansen’s presence. Seeing nothing suspicious, Johansen returned his focus to his optical computer, searching in vain for F-58.

Everything seemed routine, just like all the times he’d dodged mechas incapable of detecting the Starlight Blaze.

The blue-and-white mecha’s speed never changed, barreling directly toward Johansen. Thanks to his earlier shift of a few meters, there should have been no danger of collision.

The distance between the two closed rapidly. The hand holding the archaic spear made a tiny adjustment—so small it seemed almost accidental—but Johansen’s attention was absorbed by his scans.

At less than a hundred meters, Johansen finally spared a glance at the approaching mecha, purely as a precaution, though the risk was minimal.

His eyes swept over the rapidly enlarging shape, and suddenly a surge of warning prickled in his mind—something was wrong, though he couldn’t say what. The sensation made his skin crawl, yet everything appeared normal.

For mechas traveling at over five Hertz, a hundred meters was scarcely a fraction of a second.

The two mechas were about to pass each other, with seemingly no chance of incident.

Suddenly, a flash of icy light exploded in Johansen’s vision. Simultaneously, the Starlight Blaze’s attack alarm blared frantically! Johansen was terrified, nearly losing his soul. Instinctively, he raised his left arm’s ion shield to block the blow, while throwing the mecha into full reverse.

Too fast!

That was the only thought in his mind.

He managed to raise the Starlight Blaze’s shield halfway before the spear’s tip, glinting coldly, swept past the half-raised left arm.

The Starlight Blaze retreated as rapidly as possible, but its engines, still in hover mode, needed time to reach top speed. Ordinarily, this delay was negligible—but in this moment, those scant fractions of a second proved fatal.

The dull sound of armor being pierced was jarringly unfamiliar. A tremendous tearing sensation froze Johansen’s mind for an instant, and then an overwhelming tide of pain surged through him, threatening to drown him. Yet that agony brought a fleeting clarity.

A graceful silhouette appeared in his mind, growing clearer and clearer. Bloody hands stretched out, longing to embrace the figure that haunted his dreams and for whom he had struggled so long. The weight of weakness grew heavier; blood poured from his lips, and even his outstretched arms seemed to grow leaden. Gradually, the unforgettable image drifted into the mist, fading with his life until it vanished altogether.

At the base’s security office, a man came running in, flustered, shouting before he even reached the guard room, “Bad news, bad news—someone’s infiltrated the base!”

The guards exchanged glances, then all burst out laughing.

The leader chided, “Old Li, your jokes are getting worse—someone infiltrated the base? Ha!”

Old Li insisted anxiously, “No, really, this time it’s true—someone’s broken in, even—”

Someone else interrupted with a laugh, feigning surprise, “Oh, so this time it’s real?” He exaggerated the word ‘real,’ his odd expression drawing another round of laughter from the others.

Old Li’s face flushed red with frustration. “It’s true, I—”

One of the kinder men, unable to watch him squirm, stepped in to help. “Come on, Old Li, that joke’s not funny. Look, all our security systems are functioning perfectly. There’s nothing abnormal! If someone had broken in, would it be this quiet? If you don’t trust us, surely you trust the Ji family’s defense system?”

He took Old Li by the arm, about to escort him out and save him further embarrassment.

Suddenly, a tremendous explosion rocked the base, leaving everyone stunned.

Ye Chong watched in satisfaction as Johansen’s mecha exploded before his eyes. Under these circumstances, the pilot’s chances of survival were zero.

With Johansen gone and the base still reeling in confusion, Ye Chong suddenly remembered the red-and-silver mecha stored at the very bottom level.