Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy

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When Mu Fan noticed people starting to enter one after another, he withdrew and stepped aside. After the test device's system recorded the number, it returned to silence. He didn't know the significance of that number, nor how much shock a Level 17 strength could bring to the people here. He only felt that he could add a bit more force.

Hmm, I'll give it another try when no one's around, Mu Fan thought.

…

"Alright, gather around. Now that everyone's here, let's assign today's venues," Mankun appeared punctually at the appointed time. After reading a string of names, he continued, "Jeff, as usual, Third Floor, Number 2. Kemo, Third Floor, Number 7..." Then, turning to the next assignments, he called, "For this afternoon, Second Floor, Number 3 for sparring, Polly, you go; Second Floor, Number 6 for sparring, Ji Mingdi, you go… Hm, Second Floor, Number 9, Mu Fan, you go. The remaining four stay on standby for any temporary notices."

After arranging the afternoon training tasks, Mankun glanced at everyone. "Let's get to work!"

The group dispersed according to their assignments. Mu Fan recalled that the second-floor, Number 9 training room was in the northwest corner, accessible via the stairway from the hall's corner.

The passageway's sides were decorated in an ancient style, a refreshing sight after being accustomed to the plethora of city machinery and electronics.

At the door marked VIP Room Number 9, Mu Fan saw the metal door reflecting a blackish blue glow. He inserted his work card into the nearby identification device.

"Beep, Identification Valid, Sparring Trainer — Mu Fan, please enter," came an electronic female voice from the door lock. The alloy doors slid open from the middle, closing again after Mu Fan stepped inside.

It's really different! Mu Fan looked at the neat and orderly training room. The equipment was gleaming with metallic luster, divided into distinct functional areas. The rest area hung with rows of clean training clothes and wiping towels even had several neatly arranged packets of what seemed to be food on the acrylic table.

This enclosed training room was surprisingly the same size as the first-floor, Number 5 training field! Mu Fan was a little surprised.

Seeing the room with the strength training symbol on the right-hand corridor, Mu Fan walked in.

…

"Dad! I get it already, okay! Stop nagging. Your son isn't cut out for the military academy, so it's not happening! Doing business with you would be much better. Look, we're even built the same! Taking over your company in the future would be a perfect fit!"

"What? No negotiation? If I don't go, you'll cut off my allowance for a month? Ah, my dear father, do you really want to see your son lose weight in a month? I've been quite good lately, okay? You told me not to race cars, so I didn't. You said no gambling because it would corrupt me, so I didn't. I'm just eating three more meals a day and playing PO Battle Net, isn't that enough? The wish you didn't fulfill yourself has to be… Hello? Dad!? Father? Dear Father! I'll go…" A chubby kid in a gray suit, white shirt, and bow tie, his face slightly immature, sat in the back seat of a floating car, frowning at a sky communication device that had just been cut off.

"Uncle Wu, can we not go to the Martial Arts Hall? How about you let me off at HL Square on the way? I've arranged to meet friends there for an event today. It's so untrustworthy if I don't go."

"I'm sorry, Young Master. The master instructed me to ensure your arrival at the Martial Arts Hall and pick you up four hours later," replied the man in front, dressed in a red attendant's uniform. Though his hair was white, it was meticulously groomed, and his gaze was focused forward. His words were clearly directed at the little fatty in the back.

The fat boy's small suit had been stretched to the point of openness, and the crumpled edges were pitifully wedged under his bottom.

"Uncle Wu~," his voice carried a pitiful tone with a hint of tears.

"I'm sorry, Young Master; you know the master's temper. Please don't make things difficult for me." Unmoved, Uncle Wu continued driving attentively.

"Oh, alright, call me when we arrive," the crying tone vanished in an instant, and the fat boy replied with a drag of his voice. He then cradled the sky communication, browsing and watching battle videos on the PO Battle Net forum.

"Hmm, Fantasy or Reality? It's definitely Fantasy. Fat Brother wouldn't watch such bloody things. Still, 'Lemon Balloon' is the most flashy. Let's see what new skills they've developed recently. Hahaha, without some hard work, I can't maintain my lead in the class rankings." The fat boy enthusiastically tapped on the sky communication's display, mumbling softly.

Harry, the young master of the Fowen Consortium on Loga Star, wealth still exists even in the poorer areas. As power brings dominance, the disparity between rich and poor widens, despite the Fowen Consortium not yet being in the planet's circle of top tycoons. Harry, self-proclaimed a pacifist from an early age, naturally grew into a peaceful fatty; his cheerful laugh was just like his father's, well-suited for the Fowen Consortium's everyday products, friendly! Affordable! Although their brand's rank wasn't the highest, its immense sales volume rapidly boosted Harry's family's fortune.

"Hmm, this move is cool. Let me see what it's called, Lotus Fall? Too ordinary, not grand enough, it should at least have a name like 'Big Dark Sky Five-Petal Lotus Fall' for it to be fabulous. But the move itself is impressive," the fat boy was captivated by the scene when flipping through a Platinum 5-star Fantasy expert's video. A red-and-white mecha flashed from the ground to mid-air in an instant, creating four apparent illusions. Then, five mechas merged into one, embracing another mecha to descend from the sky. Flames erupted from the ground, blasting a spectacular radial pit. Entertained by the scene, the fat boy almost drooled; he had the weakest resistance against skills that could dazzle. A notable feature of the Fantasy was its ability to perform actions impossible for humans.

"Let me check this setup, Fantasy-modified RG-II jet propulsion x5, the cockpit must reduce human simulation percentage by at least 30%, driver bearing weight is 9 times gravity, hmm 9 times, would definitely hurt. I'll reduce the simulation degree by 40%, although it can't be used for PK, at least it looks cool! And replace the mecha body engine with a Ninth Generation one, which is possible; purchasing a 7888 Star Coins package can give a chance to get a Ninth Generation engine piece. I should buy a few more later… With a two-thirds probability, 7888 multiplied by at least 15… Ah! This month's allowance is going to be gone again, ahah!" The fat boy, counting on his fingers, seemed faced with a tragedy, frantically exclaimed!!

"Young Master, we've arrived at the Martial Arts Hall; please prepare to get off."

The floating car came to an immediate halt, steadily stopping in front of the Star Fall Martial Arts Hall. The completely black vehicle, accompanied by a red surround, and its large, retro U-shaped grille made a powerful visual impact. Seeing this luxury car, the Martial Arts Hall surely knew it was a distinguished guest. When the fat boy reluctantly put away his sky communication and got out, four black-clad men already sorted in two rows to welcome him at the Hall's entrance.

"Young Master, arrangements have been made at the Martial Arts Hall for you, and you will be notified when the time comes. I will wait for you here," Uncle Wu stood aside, bowing slightly as he spoke.

"Oh... huh..." Seeing Uncle Wu standing bowed at the side, and not leaving, the dispirited fat boy answered with a nasal sound, extinguishing any thoughts of sneaking away.

"Young Master Harry, hello, you have a reservation for the VIP Training Room 9 on the second floor. Please follow me," a female attendant in a form-fitting short skirt, showing a curvaceous figure, reminded softly as she approached from the side.

"Hmm, lead the way," he replied casually, his interest piqued as he watched the enticing rhythmic sway of the hips in front of him, entering the Martial Arts Hall.

Meanwhile, in the VIP Room 9 strength training area, Mu Fan's veins bulged as he gripped a unidirectional long-handle training hammer, swinging it up and down. Sweat poured off him as a string of over one-meter thick loading hammer blocks was significantly attached to the alloy handle in the reverse direction...

PS: Thanks to book friend Yue for the reward!

Seek recommendations and collect! New books need your support. Li Ge expresses gratitude!

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