Chapter Index

    Chapter 42

    After dinner, Su Su waited for his friend “Reverse Tide & Soul of Death” in the game.

    They agreed to meet at the entrance of the arena.

    Su Su did not participate in the competition, instead he squeezed into the spectator area with a large group of players.

    The screen was displaying live footage of the players in the competition. The players outside were buzzing with excitement, discussing rankings, guilds, spaceship types, and combat styles. They talked about the skills just used, where ammunition was running low, where spaceships were heavily damaged, where someone seemed to evade but was actually hiding danger, and where someone crushed opponents throughout the match, winning in under three minutes.

    Su Su mixed in with the crowd but wasn’t focused, constantly looking around.

    Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Qi Hanyi. Despite the seemingly ordinary appearance, Su Su recognized him immediately. His previously distracted gaze sharpened, sparkling as if hiding stars, and he waved excitedly at Qi Hanyi, “Over here!”

    “You finally logged in! I was so bored playing alone,” he said, his tone brimming with uncontainable excitement.

    Seeing Su Su’s eager expression made Qi Hanyi’s heart swell with sweetness, and he couldn’t help but soften his features as he explained, “I was busy during the day.”

    He handed Su Su a neatly organized document, “This is what you wanted, information about ‘Simplifying Complexity’.”

    Qi Hanyi removed any real-life information regarding “Simplifying Complexity”, keeping only Su Su’s primary achievements and experiences in-game, alongside several well-known battle videos.

    “Wow, I just asked casually and you organized so much,” Su Su exclaimed, marveling at the categorically arranged and neatly organized information that looked like a thesis.

    The material Qi Hanyi provided not only included “Simplifying Complexity” but also “No Return” and other players who had registered for competitions, who also ranked highly.

    In addition, there was a complete guide to the insect race within the game. Each type’s appearance features, characteristics, attack methods, weaknesses, and so on.

    Qi Hanyi knew that Su Su’s game experience was limited, and by directly viewing the videos and materials, Su Su would catch up more quickly.

    He secretly hoped for Su Su to win; that was his selfish desire. However, the materials Qi Hanyi provided were all information that ordinary players could find online, so it didn’t count as favoritism toward Su Su.

    “I’m glad you think it’s useful,” Qi Hanyi said.

    Qi Hanyi didn’t stay online for long, saying he had matters to attend to, and would be quite busy for the next few days.

    Though Su Su felt a bit disappointed, he didn’t insist. He understood that while some players spent all day playing, many others treated the game as a form of leisure.

    Su Su studied the materials seriously; his self-learning ability was always quite good, which was how he managed with textbooks back then, and now with these materials, he absorbed knowledge about other players’ strategies, reviewing their classic battles, learning their skills, and thinking about whether he could do better if he were the one in control.

    The night passed quickly, and it reached the time to sleep.

    When Su Su emerged from the nutrition pod, he discovered a single bed had been added to the room, but Qi Hanyi had yet to return.

    Su Su glanced between the big bed and the single bed, taking it upon himself to claim Qi Hanyi’s big bed.

    First come, first served; who told Qi Hanyi not to come back this late? Su Su thought smugly.

    If it really came down to it, he could sleep for a while first and switch to the small bed if Qi Hanyi kicked him out upon his return.

    However, until he woke up, he didn’t wait for Qi Hanyi to chase him away.

    The small bed’s blankets were as neatly stacked as they were the night before, and the sheets showed no signs of having been slept on, making it hard to tell if Qi Hanyi had come back at all.

    As he got out of bed, Su Su stumbled and fell, sitting dazedly on the floor as if he had been stunned, until the butler knocked on the door to inquire about the noise, startling him back to reality.

    “I’m fine,” Su Su said, looking down at his legs. They were already fused together like a mermaid’s, covered in silvery scales. He silently turned his face sideways, where scales had crept from his neck up to his cheek, and his gill area had transformed, allowing him to breathe on land as well as swim in the ocean.

    In another day or two, he’d completely turn into a shark.

    During breakfast, Su Su did not go to the restaurant. He draped a blanket over his lap and ate in his room.

    “Uncle Li, where is Qi Hanyi?” Su Su asked as the butler helped him scoop rice.

    “I heard young master had a meeting and left for the military early this morning,” the butler said lovingly as he filled a big bowl for Su Su, the rice piling like a small mountain over the rim, “Young master, eat more. You’re too thin.”

    “Mhm.” Su Su took a big mouthful of rice, cheeks puffed out. Yet he still felt unsatisfied, a sense of hollowness lingered which left him feeling unhappy.

    “By the way, the young master specifically instructed me to tell you that the items you wanted have been uploaded to your terminal. You’ll find them when you log in to the game.”

    Su Su perked up at this. His Silver Dragon had been modified? So soon!

    Could Qi Hanyi have stayed up all night modifying his spaceship?

    Su Su finished his meal eagerly logged into the game. As he loaded the modification data, he was stunned by the scene before him.

    This was…

    The Silver Dragon ship now bore no resemblance to its former self; it was as if it had completely transformed into another type of spaceship.

    Its streamlined body was lighter, shaped like a nimble swallow. The long side wings resembled inverted scissors, and just looking at its form conveyed an impression of how it could gracefully traverse the starry river at any moment.

    All of Su Su’s requests had been met. The blades atop and on the side wings had been expanded threefold, capable of storing and launching heavy artillery against a redesigned escape pod.

    As he entered the spaceship and began to operate it further, Su Su discovered that Qi Hanyi had designed a dual form for this ship!

    When the wings folded inwards, becoming pectoral fins, and the tail feathers spread to form a shark tail, an additional dorsal fin appeared on the back, with more fins for balance on the belly and hips, the serrated closure at the top opened up, transforming the swallow into a shark.

    Su Su:!!!

    The swallow form was known for its long-range precision strikes and terrifying speed, while the shark form relied on strong close-combat capabilities combined with heavy artillery for overwhelming firepower.

    Both forms had significant advantages, but the drawbacks were equally clear. The swallow form’s ship was incredibly fragile and could easily be damaged by light fire; a single blow from heavy artillery could prove fatal.

    The shark form’s ship also did not have enhanced defenses; rather, the need for close combat made balance even harder to control. The peculiar propulsion of the ship did not come from the side wings or tail, but instead mimicked a shark’s muscle structure, using exhaust from various points of the ship to simulate the shark’s movements in water.

    Given this odd design, any player attempting to control it would likely collapse due to the inability to maintain balance. Only Su Su felt a sense of returning to the ocean when his mental force connected with the shark form of the ship.

    No, he was not returning to the ocean. Qi Hanyi had opened up a new star river for him.

    Just like how, as a child, he dreamed of swimming into this star river every time he peeked above the waves to gaze at the White Zephyr, he had truly swum into this star river.

    Su Su moved through the star river, feeling more agile and fluid than ever before.

    The so-called excessively light ship body, paired with the heavy artillery, the issues of balance, and difficulties adjusting during close combat were all effortlessly resolved now.

    He was a shark; what could make finding balance easier than this body?

    Relying on the modified spaceship, Su Su began to compete in the arena.

    Having no prior baseline score meant his initial matched opponents were all quite weak, making it obvious that Su Su would win. His score skyrocketed like a rocket, gradually attracting the attention of many spectators.

    Everyone said there was a specially modified spaceship, its form agile as if darting through the air, its speed ghostly fast, and the most terrifying part was that at such speed, he hardly ever missed, as if a tracker had been installed on the opponent’s spaceship.

    Su Su did not reveal the shark’s secondary form, partly because the opponents were too weak; using the swallow form’s strategy was enough to win. On the other hand, he noticed that in the videos he had watched, other players often kept one or two trump cards hidden for critical moments. Su Su planned to keep the shark form as one of his secrets.

    Half a month passed in the blink of an eye. Transformed back into a shark, Su Su lived a very regular life, shuttling between the fish pool and nutrition pod every day.

    Qi Hanyi stayed busy every day, spending very little time in the game.

    With no one to play with, Su Su immersed himself in practice, successfully ranking in the top one hundred of the arena and accumulating quite a bit of battle experience.

    The time for the preliminary round arrived.

    Due to military involvement, this competition was significantly grander, with nearly all spaceship players watching online, even players from other professions joining the frenzy. The live broadcast area was filled with commentary and coverage of the competition.

    “Hey, my idol’s match is about to start; I’ve got to go watch the live stream,” Qi Yue said, lounging comfortably on her sofa, speaking to the projection in the air.

    “Your idol?” In the projection was a long-haired woman dressed sharply in a suit and boots, exuding a capable aura. She was currently seated in a transit vehicle, with blurred lights flashing beside the road.

    She looked quite young, and her stable and powerful presence overshadowed her naturally beautiful appearance. Her eyes resembled the blazing winter sun; bright, yet not glaring.

    A type that made one feel very reliable at first glance.

    “Yes, my idol, the White Scaled Shark, previously went by another name. She has fantastic gaming talent and mastered mental force piloting less than a day after starting. I heard from Xiang Chen that my genius brother watched her video and praised her talent.”

    At this point, Qi Yue lowered her voice, “My brother used to care nothing for gaming; after watching that video, he immediately organized a spaceship piloting competition on behalf of the military. I suspect he’s doing it just to promote my idol. I heard he even sold the nutrition pod at home, so maybe he sneaked online to recruit people.”

    “That doesn’t sound like something Qi Hanyi would do,” the woman in the projection commented lightly before changing the subject, “How is Qi Hanyi’s health now?”

    As soon as this was mentioned, Qi Yue displayed a troubled expression. “I heard from Xiang Chen that he suffered a collapse once, but thankfully the family mermaid saved him. However, I have a sense of unease, like they’re hiding something from me.”

    “If Qi Hanyi truly wanted to be rescued, he wouldn’t have waited until now. He… in certain aspects, is similar to Yang Yuanshan.” When she spoke that last sentence, the woman in the projection slightly lowered her gaze, a fleeting hint of weakness appearing, as quick as an illusion.

    “Brother Yuanshan… sigh, if not for that incident, he and you would probably have been married by now. They’re the most outstanding people in the Empire, and I truly hope…” Qi Yue appeared even more sorrowful than the other.

    The woman in the projection was none other than the empire’s first princess and current heir, Tang Xiruo. She was also Qi Yue’s childhood friend.

    Compared to the lively and vibrant Qi Yue, she was evidently much steadier and more mature. In just a moment of silence, she adjusted her emotions back to normal: “It’s all in the past; you should watch the live stream. I need to go for now. Later, you can tell me the results. I’m quite interested in that genius pilot you mentioned.”

    In the live broadcast, a thousand qualifying competitors had already piloted their respective spaceships onto the stage.

    When “White Scaled Shark” was called out, a flurry of cheering comments filled the chat.

    In just a few days, Su Su had climbed into the top fifty of the arena rankings, going from previously unknown to now being a dark horse on the preliminary competition prediction list.

    As the competitors were set, the referee began to read the rules.

    The preliminary rounds were divided into three segments. One thousand players would enter simultaneously; after the three segments, their rankings would be based on arrival order. The top one hundred would advance to the semi-finals.

    Moreover, as long as competitors made it to the top one hundred in the preliminaries, they would receive a considerable prize and a special victory medal.

    The first segment was called the Ranking Race. Players were not allowed to attack each other; it was strictly a speed competition.

    However, simply being fast did not guarantee victory; the map was newly generated, with complex routes and changing terrain. Unexpected situations would arise, such as being subjected to artillery attacks, gravitational interference, and even potential map disconnections or radar failures.

    It all depended on the players’ adaptability.

    Su Su had already entered the racetrack, with a thousand spaceships tightly packed, taking up a significant amount of space. Most competitors were piloting S-class ships, at the very least A-class.

    The Light Phoenix and Silver Dragon each had dozens of vessels.

    With the sound of the starting gun, all the spaceships surged forward, but due to the crowding, it was hard to accelerate.

    Just as they struggled, a silvery spaceship suddenly zipped through the mass of a thousand ships like a streak of light. Its speed far exceeded that of an ordinary S-class spaceship, moving as nimbly as a swallow breaking through the clouds, racing forward without looking back.

    Qi Yue, lounging comfortably on her sofa watching the live broadcast, took a sip of her milk tea and when she saw this scene, she jumped up in shock, choking on her drink, “Pfft—cough cough cough, what the heck! That must be SSS-class speed, right?”

    Note