The Mech Touch

by Stayrr

Humanity has conquered half the galaxy and the Age of Mechs reigns supreme! Ves Larkinson lacked the genetic aptitude to become a famed mech pilot. Fighting against his fate, he studied mech design in order to express his love for mechs as a builder instead of a soldier. When Ves graduated from college, he returned to a new but empty boutique. Left with a small, newly founded mec

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They called this era the Age of Mechs.

It was not as if the introduction of mechs replaced other weapons of war. In the galactic war against the alien races that sought to wipe out humanity, warships and weapons of mass destruction still played an essential role.

Yet a nuclear bomb was too destructive if used against humans. Alien races could easily pick up a bargain if humanity constantly weakened themselves to settle internal grudges.

These pointless wars would only end when humanity united all of its separate fiefs. Many visionaries have attempted to do so, and succeeded, up to a point.

Peace never lasted.

The human race had an inborn tendency to fall apart. The grand enterprise of unity failed time and time again.

So people separated, still loosely allied by their common ancestral heritage, but with nothing else in common. Wars continued, but a complex web of treaties limited the destruction of essential war materiel. The human race stood a better chance of resisting alien incursions once it stopped destroying their own settlements and warships.

"It's all fine and dandy to conquer your neighbor's planet. At the very least, don't bring out the big guns and please lease the expensive stuff in space intact."

Not the best solution, but somehow humanity muddled through.

With the stagnation of naval battles, ground warfare took on new significance. Infantry, tanks and artillery enjoyed a resurgence of popularity as the fractious human race fought over their own territory.

Naturally, any invaders didn't have it easy. Forced to operate on enemy soil, the conflicts often devolved into wars of attrition.

Even if the invaders painstakingly triumphed over their enemies, was it worth the effort? They would find out in dismay that they lost more money from their army than what they gained in territory.

Most of the warmongers realized that waging war was a money-losing business.

"Just as planned." The pacifists thought as they patted their backs. The treaties had been extensively drafted for just such an outcome. Without the tools to threaten a planet into a quick surrender, the warmongers had to rely on old and inefficient technology in order to conquer territories.

It turned out the peace lovers celebrated too early.

Ever since the legendary Mack Liu first stepped on the battlefield with a giant humanoid machine called a 'mech', war had changed forever. It advanced into a whole new paradigm.

Able to perform ably in even the most inhospitable planets, the first mechs made a mockery of the slow-paced and static way of war of traditional armies.

"The human body is the best weapon of humans." One of the lead inventors of the modern war mech remarked after the first models blitzed half a massive nation's territory. "Everyone knows that infantry is flexible but fragile while tanks are tough but clumsy. So one day we thought, why not make a new weapon that takes the human form and simply scale it up?"

It resulted in a revolutionary weapon that charmed humans across the galaxy for its evocative look and inspiring capabilities.

Faster than infantry, more flexible than tanks and able to carry a variety of weapons, they nonetheless required much less supplies to keep them running. Their logistical footprint was a fraction of what a conventional army gobbled up. This alone ensured that mechs dethroned all other service branches.

The Age of Mechs unfolded into splendor. Broadcasts surrounding mechs earned record views. Online and offline games brought the masses closer the glamorized new machines. Major arms manufacturers invested in the rapidly growing mech industry. Countless startups offering their own unique takes on the mechs popped up like mushrooms.

The Age of Mechs seemed to herald humanity into a new golden age.

Unfortunately, only a small number of elites could step into the true world of mechs. The most basic mech models involved hundreds of patents and other proprietary knowledge that would cost a fortune to license.

Those interested in piloting an authentic war mech also needed the right genes. The highly arcane neural interface that allowed pilots to control their mechs as natural as moving their own bodies could only be piloted by a gifted handful. Those who ignored the warnings fried their brains.

It took a long time for researchers to establish a clear view of how many people possessed the right potential. From the latest statistics, only a mere 3.5 percent of all of humanity possessed the right genetics to successfully connect to a neural interface. These privileged elites, tested for compatibility from their tenth birthday, enjoyed admiration and worship from the 96.5 percent who were doomed to never step into a cockpit.

Not all of the 3.5% would actually go on to pilot a mech, but even the poorest potentate from the most backwater planet had to undergo training. Once they gained a basic proficiency in piloting, they were added to the reserves. Just in case.

Ves Larkinson was born with the conviction that he belonged in the cockpit. His father was a mech pilot. His grandfather also piloted mechs. He could name at least nine direct ancestors who all served honorably in the Bright Republic's renowned Mech Corps. Most of his aunts, uncles and the rest of the extended Larkinson family had a long history of piloting mechs.

"Dad, what's it like to be a pilot?"

"It's dangerous, but it's also the only time I feel alive."

His tenth birthday changed his life. His entire world crashed down on him once the doctor from the Republic announced the results. His genetics marked him as one of the 96.5 percent. In other words, he was a plebeian, a norm. No matter which word was in vogue, Ves became a commoner doomed to never to enter a cockpit in his life.

"There's nothing dishonorable about having different genes." The doctor reassured the young Ves. He had already crushed the dreams of countless kids. One more hardly fazed him at all. "No one is good at everything. The rest of the 96.5% get by just fine. Find some passion in your capabilities. Not everyone is destined to follow their father's footsteps."

His father, Ryncol Larkinson, half-hearted patted the young Ves' back as he gave him an ice cream. What else could he do? His frequent tours of duty left Ves to wallow in his depression alone.

And so Ves turned from a precocious boy who dreamed about mechs into a sullen teenager drowning himself in games and partying. With a deceased mother and a father absent from frequent tours of service, no one could rein Ves in. He graduated from high school with less-than-stellar grades.

"What now?"

Ves finally pieced himself together once he considered his future. He couldn't waste away his life forever.

"I'm not a pilot. I'm never going to be a pilot. All I really know is mechs. If I am never fated to pilot a mech, then I can still do something else. I'm still a Larkinson. Mechs are in my blood."

Ves narrowed his goals. If he couldn't pilot a mech, then he'd be the one to make them.

In the Age of Mechs, a mech designer led the development of mechs. Just as crucial as mech pilots, they came up with innovative designs of mechs and shaped them into reality. Some of these designers were just as famous as the aces who achieved incredible feats with their mechs.

Some of the most prestigious designers worked for the major arms manufacturers. They were able to deftly spit out a casual new design that would be sold a million times.

These were the star designers, the superstars who had CEOs and head of states at their beck and call. Even a casual sneeze could impact the stock prices of the companies they worked at, for they were just too influential. Many of the larger human states relied on their exclusive designs to give them an edge in conflicts involving mechs.

Then came the middle class of the mech designers, the entrepreneurs with at least a complete series of mech designs. Adept in all facets of what constituted a mech, these seasoned engineers could take a pile of random parts and come up with unique designs that filled most of the conventional roles any decent client demanded. Some designers focused on churning out loads of mechs at the most affordable cost, while others might spend their whole lives on a single model.

What was left was the bottom heap. About ninety percent of all designers fell into this category. This included the fresh graduates, the failed entrepreneurs and the washed-out old timers with outdated knowledge. They couldn't design anything other than ripoffs or blatant copies of more successful models. Most of these dregs were doomed to served as faceless cogs, working behind the scenes to repair or maintain other people's mechs.

The lucky ones still get to be involved in mech design by fulfilling a niche in customization. They took existing mechs and changed them in little ways, or licensed an old, existing design and added their own flair to it. The cutthroat competition in the saturated market didn't allow many to stay afloat for long. Only some got by with this business model.

Ves hoped to be one of them. With his so-so grades, he could forget about attending a prestigious university. He only managed to scrape enough merits to attend a program offered by the Rittersberg University of Technology, an average institution from the Bright Republic's capital.

All he got five years later was a bland degree from a bland institution. In other words, he was worthless in the eyes of employers.

That was okay. His father Ryncol supported him all the way through. He even spent much of his time gathering the capital to kick start his son's business.

They both had a plan. They would start a one-man mech boutique with enough automation to print its own parts and allow Ves to assemble a mech from scratch. Ryncol would refer him to his buddies in the service for cheap jobs and let Ves dip into the world of customization step by step. Once Ves built up his reputation, he might be able to move on to designing his own variants.

All those plans came crashing down when Ves returned to an empty home back in Cloudy Curtain, their home planet. Ryncol enjoyed a good salary as a mech pilot, so he could afford a grand townhouse in the suburbs. He recently sold it in order to scrape enough cash to acquire a workshop just outside of town. It only offered enough space for a small living area.

The workshop could use a makeover. The modular, prefabricated structure looked second hand, as if it was salvaged off a battlefield or scrap yard. With the amount of rust and scratches its exterior sported, it was a miracle it hadn't fallen apart.

When Ves stepped inside, he sighed in relief. The essentials were still in one shape. The insides looked fairly clean. All of the valuable machines needed to run his enterprise were present, if second hand. His dad might not know his stuff, be he knew plenty of people who did.

"Where are you, dad?"

After weeks of silence, Ves had to face the fact that his dad was missing. That shouldn't be a cause for alarm. His dad had been assigned to a regiment stationed at the border between the Bright Republic and the belligerent Vesia Kingdom. Any incidents that might flare up could cause his father to be recalled.

When Ves called his father's friends, he found out he never returned to duty! After contacting the police, it seemed that Ryncol had never shown his face elsewhere. All the galactic calls and electronic messages sent to his father fell off a cliff. No one could find any trace of his presence.

The Cloudy Curtain Planetary Bank quickly came knocking. It turned out the workshop components such as the spiffy 3D printer had been bought with a loan. A 3D printer was an essential machine that turned raw materials into factory quality mech parts.

His father had to borrow over 330 million bright credits in order to finance the acquisition of assets. With this much money, anyone could buy half-a-dozen advanced mechs!

Ves could spend his lifetime working for an average mech manufacturer and still not earn enough to pay back the huge debt. He instantly fell into a cycle of distress and panic when he read through the bank's polite but impersonal note.

"What kind of mess did my father drag me into?"

The bank took three pages to state that all of the debt was in his name. He would have to hand over the workshop and all of its valuable machinery in case he missed a single annual interest payment.

In short, Ves had to scrounge up about five million credits in the next three months in order to meet the next payment. He lifted up his armband-shaped communicator and activated its miniature projector. A screen came into view that displayed a menu. He hopelessly switched to the credit account linked to the device.

His account only held a measly twelve-hundred credits. That was his spending money for the month.

Ves had little means of earning the required amount of money. With his dad gone missing, it was questionable whether Ves was entitled to the life insurance and other benefits his father arranged. Ves followed up his father's insurance policy because he needed every penny he could squeeze out of the system.

Nothing came out of the meetings. The insurance company was as obstinate as a dog chewing a bone.

Ves swiped away the latest messages from the bank. "I'm broke. I can't even scrounge up the credits to buy the raw materials I need to fabricate new parts. How am I suppose to do business?"

Within a day, he called the bank, the insurance company and the government. What he got back wasn't good.

The bank had already written Ves off. They wanted to get their claws on the workshop before Ves screwed something up and depreciated its value. The only useful thing he received from the bank was a package that Ryncol stashed at the bank in case he got out of touch.

The insurance company claimed that Ryncol was merely missing in action at worst. As an active serviceman, he might return months or years later, so Ves was not entitled to a single penny until the company received solid proof that he had died. If not, the money would only be released after a period of five years.

The government was its usual bureaucratic self. Ves only heard lots of incomprehensible jargon before he plainly hung up. He'd get nothing useful there.

Ves was alone.

His dad had gone off to the deep end, leaving Ves to pick up the pieces. His father only left him with a lousy package with a casual note pasted in front.

"To my son Ves, in case I'm not home."

Opening it up, Ves was mildly surprised to pick up a secure data chip. Most data transfers today occurred entirely wirelessly. People only used data chips when they absolutely had to keep their contents secure.

Ves turned off his comm's connection to the galactic net before accessing the old data chip.

It took three seconds to load its contents, which was unusually long for a chip this size. An unknown program suddenly took over the holographic projection.

"Initializing the Mech Designer System. New user detected. Initiating deep scan in 2400 minicycles. Please prepare properly."

"Wait, what?" Ves asked the program, just before the comm released a huge shock. Ves passed out in an instant.

And so began his journey as a mech designer.

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When Ves woke up, he brushed a hand over his brown hair and wondered why he ended up on the floor.

"It was.. the data chip!"

Ves tried to find the data chip that dropped him like a log. After a quick search, he only came across a fried piece of metals and other melted bits. The chip self-destructed after following its programming. He bewilderingly turned his gaze to his wrist communicator, which was still in pristine condition.

"That's strange. Anything that could have fried this chip should have melted my comm in the process. How could the chip have melted itself without transferring all that heat to my comm unit?"

Cautiously, Ves activated his comm, expecting it to malfunction. Instead, it turned online without a problem. After browsing the menu, he found that nothing changed except for the addition of one new program.

The Mech Designer System.

The name already sounded boastful. The act of designing mechs was an intricate discipline that required years of study in the fields of mechanics, physics, material science and more. Even after graduating from college, you merely got your foot through the door.

It took more than experience and brilliance for a mech designer to achieve true success. Just the thought of having a single app whip up a simple design in a matter of minutes rankled Ves. The mere thought of such a software devalued the five years he spent on becoming a mech designer.

Still... his father left him this 'System' for a reason. Ves had no idea where Ryncol got his hands on this mysterious app. Since he couldn't get anymore answers, Ves decided to run the app.

[Welcome to the Mech Designer System. Please design your new mech.]

The message ended there, leaving nothing for Ves to follow up. "That's it?"

[Deep scan complete. Registering new user Ves Larkinson. Welcome package granted.]

"Uh, you got anything more than that?"

[Please inspect your Status. To display this page, say Status.]

"Status."

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 0

Attributes

Strength: 0.6

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 0.3

Concentration: 0.9

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice

Evaluation: Good-for-nothing loser.

"Hey, who are you calling a loser!?"

[User Ves Larksinson is a qualified loser for having spent half of your life wasting away your life. Your frequent diversions have left you ill-prepared for the future. Your inability to pay off your debt is a direct consequence of your ineptitude.]

Ves had to suppress the urge to raise his middle finger. Instead, he challenged this stupid System. "I admit, I used to be a stupid kid, but I cleaned up my act. I'm a mech designer now!"

[It is your lucky day! The Mech Designer System is the ultimate tool in this galaxy to design any machine that falls under the category of mechs. Any authorized user is allowed to use this System's many tools to design any mech imaginable with no conceivable limits.]

Who would believe such shameless boasting. "So can I just whip up something that weighs a thousand tons, runs at mach 50 and can even travel faster-than-light?"

[Certainly user, but you must design its components and integrate them into a viable design by yourself. If you then wish to fabricate the design using the System, then you will be required to exchange a corresponding energy value expressed in Design Points.]

It sounded ridiculous that a piece of software can just wish a mech into existence with energy alone. "How many Design Points does it take to fabricate a mech. How easy can I earn these points anyway?"

[An average mech requires 1,445,645,313 Design Points in order to be fabricated accurately. Calculating your current combination of attributes and skills. After estimating your capabilities, you are able to earn an average of 3.89 Design Points per day.]

Ves was literally speechless. The System disparaged him again in a roundabout way.

"You seem pretty useless. How am I suppose to get some use out of you if I can only earn about four DP a day?"

"Yeah, I thought so." Ves muttered quietly. His finger already hovered over his comm, ready to shut down this useless app.

[User, please do not exit the program yet. You have yet to explore the menu, nor have you opened up your welcome package.]

"Okay, so give me a menu then."

[Mech Designer System Menu]

Status

Designer

Missions

Skill Tree

Shop

Lottery

Inventory

"User, as a Novice Mech Designer, your privileges are limited. You currently do not have access to the Missions, Shop and Lottery menu."

Ves browsed the Designer option first. The System unfolded into a vast holographic design interface that seemed to be ripped off from a popular design suite that Ves had frequently used in his student days. The System's version came with a lot of additional features, though Ves wasn't in the mood to explore them right now.

The Skill Tree unfolded even more elaborately, taking up a panoramic view. The most fundamental skills sat at the top. It started with the most basic fields such as mechanics and mathematics. Beneath them nested an unfolding expanse of sub-skills that seemingly went on forever. He could upgrade skills as diverse as artistic judgment.

This Skill Tree alone appeared way too fantastical and unreal. How could anyone improve themselves with the press of a button? All it took to upgrade his skills was to spend a couple of so-called Design Points.

It was fairly uncanny that the system managed to map his current skills pretty accurately. Ves reserved his judgment for the moment. His father had to have a compelling reason to pass on this absurd piece of software to him. Ves refused to consider the System to be a work of fantasy.

He opened the inventory last. It appeared to be a typical, game-like interface except he couldn't store or take out real-universe items. The inventory mainly dealt with storing designs and other virtual content, though it offered the option of storing real items later on.

Naturally, his inventory contained no designs, but he found the vaunted welcome package in the miscellaneous tab. He curiously tapped it with his finger.

The holographic box cheerfully opened up accompanied by the faux-celebratory fanfare prevalent in cheap online games. Three silhouettes floated in front of him, tempting his anticipation a tiny bit even as he remained skeptical of this System.

[Congratulations, you have received 10 Design Points. Please spend them well.]

"Just ten measly Design Points?" Ves exasperatingly questioned.

From browsing the previous menus, he learned that 10 Design Points was only worth peanuts to the System. With this amount, he could neither afford to increase his attributes or upgrade any skills. The paltry amount only afforded him enough to purchase a soda.

He then clicked the next silhouette which revealed three copper lottery tickets. It allowed him to draw three prizes from the system's lowest-ranked lottery draw.

When Ves activated a ticket, the Lottery page projected a prize wheel. After staring at the wheel in doubt, he spun the large object by heaving a lever with his arm.

[You have failed to draw a prize from your copper lottery ticket. Please draw again.]

[You have failed to draw a prize from your copper lottery ticket. Please draw again.]

[You have failed to draw a prize from your copper lottery ticket. Please draw again.]

"Really, even the lottery tickets from the convenience store aren't so stingy."

After using up the lottery tickets, The System's final present unfolded. The silhouette faded away, revealing a small mechanical cat.

The pet displayed on the hologram seemed no different from any of the other artificial intelligences available on the galactic net. Popular with little girls around the galaxy, these virtual pets offered companionship and distraction without the hassle of taking care of a real animal.

"So you got me a virtual cat. Whoop-die-doo."

[You are mistaken user. This gold-ranked auxiliary companion is an extremely rare random draw from the welcome package. Congratulations on acquiring your new gem cat.]

The creature in front of Ves shifted. The holographic interface dimmed as the projection of the mechanical cat brightened.

The cat thudded on the floor with an audible thump. Just as Ves thought the System was tricking him, the cat meowed and physically brushed his leg with its very real body.

"What?"

This couldn't be happening. The cat felt real. Ves bent down and put his hands around the light metallic shell of the cat and lifted it in front of his face. The cat questioningly purred as it beheld its new owner while Ves processed its appearance.

His communicator was just a basic model. It didn't possess the fancy micro fabrication options that came with premium models.

Even if his comm turned into premium model overnight, it was impossible to fabricate a mechanical animal larger than a mosquito. His comm simply couldn't store the required materials. Who knew how the cat came into existence. The System's workings already broke the bounds of reality.

[Do not be surprised user. As the ultimate design tool for mechs, the Mech Designer System is able to utilize [REDACTED] to instantly fabricate any design or item you have exchanged at the shop at the cost of Design Points.]

Only until now did it sink in that Ves' father had left him an impossibly amazing software. Though he understood very little so far, he was fairly certain that whoever created this System was light-years ahead of even the most advanced human scientists. He guessed that the System might be hiding some massive secrets, some of which may even involve alien technologies.

These questions were so far above Ves' tiny head that he simply set them aside for the moment. He had more immediate concerns.

"This cat is kind of cute." Ves remarked as he scratched the mechanical creature's head. "Is it supposed to do something more than beg for scratches and hugs?"

[Concentrate on the gem cat in order to call up its Status.]

[Pet Status]

Name: None

Owner: Ves Larkinson

Rank: Gold [Exclusive]

Level: 1

Skills

[Gem Excretion I]

"What kind of a skill is Gem Excretion?"

"Concentrate on the skill to see further details."

[Gem Excretion]

The ability to convert low value materials into rare gemstones of a higher value through manual absorption, digestion and excretion. These gemstones provide random benefits helpful to any mech that incorporates them into their design. Certain raw materials have a higher emphasis on the benefits that the resulting gemstones can express.

It took half a minute for the description to sink in with Ves. From what he could understand, this cat ate minerals digested it into gems. These gems ought to be quite valuable depending on their effects. He might be able to earn some quick cash if he sold these shiny gems.

[Do not overestimate the gem cat. At level 1, the pet can only excrete one gem per week.]

Ves sighed in disappointment. The cat booped his nose with its soft paw.

"Well I'm better off now than before, so I've got no grounds to complain. As for you, let me call you Lucky, since I'm counting on you to be my lucky charm."

The mech cat adorably meowed in response, indicating that its artificial intelligence possessed at least some form of low sentience.

Ves searched the cabinets of his workshop and scrounged up a pile of loose ore. The random materials were likely left by the previous owner that his father didn't bother to tidy up when he bought them second-hand.

Ves took a head-sized chunk and the small cat somehow managed to gobble up the entire thing in a clear violation of the laws of physics. There was no way a normal mechanical cat could fit so much material in its cat-sized belly.

"Okay, this is clearly another freaky thing in a long list of impossibilities. No use cracking my head over these miracles. I've to take care of my money problem first."

Ves dropped the cat and left it to explore the workshop alone. he approached his desk and turned on the computer terminal in order to do some research.

He briefly went over the manuals of the machines in his workshop. He found that they were basic but reliable models, and didn't differ much from what he used during his studies.

He then checked the prices of mechs, parts and raw materials at the public markets. Cloudy Curtain was just a regular boring residential planet, famed for its colorful clouds rather than any industry, so its mech market was anemic.

If Ves wanted to sell his products to a viable market, then he needed access to the bigger trading nodes nestled in the heart of the Bright Republic. Not anyone qualified to do so. Ves lacked both reputation and a track record. Even if he did gain access, he lacked the capital to acquire the raw resources needed to fabricate a mech.

"It takes money to to make money."

That was one of the most important lesson he learned in college. Surprisingly, he did quite well in his business classes. Ves owed this achievement due to his aspirations. It also helped that the classes only involved simple math.

After half a day of research, Ves gained a clearer idea on the viability of his new enterprise.

He gave up on producing a physical product. The areas of mech design, mech customization or mech fabrication all required substantial capital in order to step foot in them. He needed at least several million credits upfront.

The only economically viable market where he could realistically offer his services was in the field of mech repair and maintenance. However, his workshop was limited by its scale, and without a reputation he doubted he could attract any customers.

He needed to make a start in a market with a low barrier of entry, one that didn't demand any prior investment. Ves made a resigned look at the section of games on his terminal.

IRON SPIRIT - The most exclusive galactic mech simulator in the galaxy!

Iron Spirit was not the most played online game on the market. However, its esports broadcasts attracted a very wide audience, allowing the game to foster a large and diverse creator's market.

The reason for the game's success could be attributed to its adherence to reality. Iron Spirit emulated reality so well that players had to buy or rent expensive simulation pods to pilot a mech. It turned the player base into an elitist club that served as a decent simulation to actual mech combat.

The BSBH Corporation stuck to the creed of realism so much that its virtual mechs had to be fabricated within its simulated ecosystem in a realistic manner. Only the mainstream mech models could be bought off-the-shelf.

The true high performing mechs in the game were all customized or original designs that could be sold for either gold, the virtual currency, or with real credits. Unlike piloting a virtual mech, Iron Spirit didn't demand its designers to be a potentate, so even an average norm like Ves could engage in its virtual market.

As Ves registered a mech designer's account in the game, he came across a few snags. He had to pony up a registration fee of 800 bright credits. This wiped out more than half of his remaining savings.

When the game approved his account, he encountered another barrier. Customizing any existing design required the purchase of a so-called virtual license. The licenses for the cheapest parts started at around 10,000 credits, while the licenses for the most outdated 1-star mechs were valued at 100,000 credits.

"I'm such an idiot for forgetting the licensing fees."

BSBH apparently didn't want its virtual mech market to be flooded by a tsunami of awful designs.

With no other way out, Ves turned on his wrist communicator and started up the Mech Designer System. "Hey System, I don't have the money to afford a virtual license. Can you lend me a hand?"

The System accessed his terminal through a wireless connection. It took only a dozen seconds to scan the entire game and absorb additional information from the galactic net.

[Tutorial mission received. Please enter the Missions page to browse the details.]

Ves obediently turned to the Missions page of the System.

[Mission]

Mission: Tutorial Part 1 - Your First Design

Difficulty: F-Rank

Prerequisites: Be an idiot who can't solve his own problems

Description

As a mech designer, it is shameful that you have not completed a single design that is ready for sale. Use the Mech Designer System and the provided mech model to design a customized mech that has a minimum deviance of 10% and a performance improvement of 2% of its base model.

Reward: A random 1-star virtual mech license. A random 1-star virtual component license.

"This sounds doable. Can I ask how you're able to reward me with those virtual licenses?"

[Nothing is impossible to the Mech Designer System. With enough Design Points, the user may even be able to achieve immortality. Please increase your mech designer rank for a more detailed answer.]

Yeah right. Ves guessed the System had some way of hacking into Iron Spirit's servers. In order to preserve his sanity, Ves stopped his inquiry and instead turned his attention to the Designer mode.

It wasn't until Ves saw what kind of licenses he had to work with that he practically spat out blood.

"This is impossible!"

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As a reputable mech simulator, Iron Spirit only featured real mechs. The base designs sold in its virtual store could be bought in real life with almost the same performance. With its vast and extensive database, the game worked hard to group them together in a simple manner.

The BSBH Corporation eventually decided to adopt a 1-star to 5-star rating. They later added even higher ratings with the introduction of even higher performing models.

The game's database included many older designs, but its library of current designs was incomplete. Many top-notch mech designs were highly guarded secrets. These so-called next generation models represented the cutting edge of mech design.

The Age of Mechs spanned four-hundred years, so the game offered plenty of models even without the latest designs.

Iron Spirit's lowest 1-star mech models used to plow the battlefield alongside legends such as Mack Liu, the mech pioneer. Compared to contemporary models, these ancient relics fell short in many ways. They were slow, clumsy, inefficient and sometimes looked ridiculous. When Ves took a peek at these clown-like models, he wondered if their designers had a few screws loose.

System's designer mode already loaded one such design. The Fantasia 2R incorporated a radical humanoid design scheme, and was the second iteration of a flawed first edition. The Fantasia massed very little due to its slim and narrow design, allowing it to run faster and longer than the stockier models available at the time. These gains were made at the cost of other parameters such as armor and firepower.

For whatever reason, the designers shaped the Fantasia 2R in the form of a woman. Its concave torso, sloping breastplate, thin limbs and narrow head evoked the appearance of a supermodel in dressed in skimpy armor.

The older 1R model already looked like a feminist's worst nightmare. The manufacturers doubled down by attaching hair-like sensor threads on top of the 2R's head. The sensors at least served a practical purpose, since they turned the model into a decent scouting mech.

Since the Fantasia was such a light and thin mech, Ves had very little leeway in modifying its parts without destroying its good points.

In contrast, Ves could easily tinker with heavier models, shaving ten percent of its mass without sacrificing too much of its defense. After applying modern techniques to the ancient design, he could easily raise the performance of his variant by two or three percent compared to its base model.

"This Fantasia the System provided me is really too skinny."

Since he couldn't go for the route of subtraction, he needed to find another way to add value. Ves could easily improve the design by adding additional components. Unfortunately, the System only provided the license of a single component, giving him very little options.

The virtual component license the System gifted him came with an overly lengthy name. The creators called it the Gemini twin rear ejection energy booster.

The complicated component did three things at once. First, it allowed a cockpit to eject from the rear in case of emergencies. It provided a fairly large amount of energy storage, allowing mechs to last longer without resupply. Lastly, it provided a large amount of straight-line acceleration with its boosters, though such boosts consumed a lot of energy.

Normally, such attributes matched perfectly with the Fantasia 2R's focus on speed. There was only one major snag. The Gemini's dimensions were drastically over sized.

The Gemini had been designed to accommodate the first heavy mech in existence, the Megacrab. This mech was a behemoth that required eight legs and twin cockpits for two pilots.

Trying to affix the Gemini system to the Fantasia 2R was like trying to put a stuffed backpack onto a clueless toddler.

"If only I had more assets. I can't do much without more licenses. I'm not good enough to modify the base design extensively."

Ves tinkered with the System's designer functionality. Surprisingly, he found it remarkably easy to implement his modifications. The design tools responded to his thoughts alone, cutting back errors resulting from unsteady hands or faulty calculations. The designer's assistance to his work was like adding wings to a tiger.

Despite his enjoyment, Ves found it hard to wrap up a finished design in a single day. He reluctantly shut down the Mech Designer System and took care of his needs. He gobbled up a cheap nutrient pack and cuddled his new pet to sleep in an unfamiliar bed.

Ves wrestled with the problem for three more days. He spent most of the time trying various ways to combine the hefty Gemini add-on to the thin and wispy Fantasia frame. From a total of seventeen attempts, he outright failed fifteen times, leaving only a couple of barely functional designs.

When he projected the design in all of its glory, he felt like finding a hole to burrow into. It looked ridiculous!

Ves had attached the Gemini to the rear of the frame. It sounded simple, but the Fantasia's various restrictions made it a tricky problem. The profile of the 2R's lower torso was so thin that the Gemini simply couldn't be attached to that location. He already tried to do so several times.

From his many attempts, Ves concluded he could only attach the Gemini onto the upper back or the lower waist. Since placing such a heavy add-on too high would severely unbalance the Fantasia to the point of tipping it over, Ves could only add the Gemini onto the Fantasia's waist.

The combination looked obscene. His cheeks turned red as he beheld the model's mock-up. Its only saving grace was that the custom design had improved on some points. Though the mech became heavier and less agile with the addition of such an uneven weight, its straight-line traveling speed rocketed upwards.

The pilot also enjoyed a massive increase in safety with the improved cockpit ejection system. It could eject both cockpits at once, one real and one decoy. This provided a marginal benefit in Iron Spirit, as a successful ejection lowered the cost of repairing a defeated mech in the game.

"Alright System, does my first design make the cut?"

[Scanning design. Simulating performance. Completed. Do you wish to name the design?]

"Let's go with Fantasia 2R-E. My variant's rear end is the only thing that's improved."

[Design Evaluation: Fantasia 2R-E.]

Variant name: Fantasia 2R-E

Base model: Fantasia 2R

Original Manufacturer: Kezia Armaments

Weight Classification: Medium-Light

Recommended Role: Sprinter/Harasser

Armor: F

Carrying Capacity: F

Aesthetics: A-

Endurance: C

Energy Efficiency: C

Flexibility: D-

Firepower: D

Integrity: E

Mobility: B

Spotting: B

X-Factor: None

Deviance: 23%

Performance improvement: 4.5%

Overall evaluation: Horribly overweight for its intended purpose, the Fantasia 2R-E is nevertheless redeemed by its amplified power and forward potential. Its improvement in open terrain and long-distance missions does not outweigh its anemic flexibility and horrible performance in close-quarters combat. The model's unique appearance may appeal to a small sub-set of pilots.

[You have received 1 Design Point for completing an original design.]

[Congratulations on completing the first part of the tutorial. The rewards have been sent to your inventory. You have also received a bonus for exceeding the requirements of the mission.]

Ves sighed in relief. He had worked hard to merge two entirely different things together. While he succeeded on a fluke, he still managed to pull through.

Now that he finished this ungodly mission, he could move on and forget this abomination of a mech. He wiped away the projection of the design and opened his inventory. Two gift-wrapped packages awaited his eager fingers. Ves quickly tapped both icons, letting them unbox together.

[You have received a virtual license for the following mech: Kezia Armaments Fantasia 2R.]

[You have received a virtual license for the following component: Maxodron Gemini twin rear ejection energy booster.]

"Really?! You're giving me the same stuff I've been torturing myself for three entire days?"

[You have received a new mission. Please read the details in the Missions page.]

[Mission]

Mission: Tutorial Part 2 - Your First Sale

Difficulty: F-Rank

Prerequisites: Completed Tutorial Part 1

Description

You cannot call yourself a proper mech designer if your design isn't used. Please endeavor to sell a mech based on your first design.

Reward: 1000 Design Points

"You're setting me up, System! Even if I can find someone stupid enough to buy the 2R-E, I still don't have the credits to purchase the raw materials. Iron Spirit doesn't let designers fabricate a virtual mech for free even if I possess the necessary licences."

The game taxed mech designers by charging them for the raw materials.

[You have forgotten your bonus. Please look at the currency tab in your inventory.]

A red packet awaited Ves when he switched his view. He tapped it, causing the the virtual envelope to unfold into imaginary bills. It eventually landed into a neat stack with the total amount displayed on top.

[Congratulations for receiving 100,000 bright credits.]

Ves widened his eyes. Exceeding the expectations of the system provided considerable rewards. With the sudden windfall, he had a lot more options to earn money now. While a hundred thousand credits might not let him purchase a license for another mech, he could still purchase plenty of cheap components such as armor plating, cooling systems, batteries and even weapons.

Before Ves put his newly gained credits to good use, he first made sure to complete the mission.

He uploaded the saved design of the 2R-E onto Iron Spirit's virtual workshop. He then spent about ten-thousand credits collecting the raw materials required to fabricate the design. While he could spend twice as much to let the game fabricate the design automatically, Ves wanted to save every single credit so he went for manual assembly.

Ves spent two days fumbling around the virtual workshop's 3D printer to print all the required parts. He then took three more days fumbling around the assembler trying to put all the diverse and heavy parts together. Somehow, Ves felt a little closer to his first creation as he finally clicked the final part together. He even took some time and credits to paint the chassis purple and red.

"You're not the prettiest girl, but you're my first." Ves shook his head. "That sounds wrong."

While trying to erase the unpleasant image of mech-human romance from his mind, he quickly put the finished model onto the market.

He didn't choose to sell the virtual mech for real credits, though the option was available. Practically all low tier mechs in Iron Spirit were sold in gold, the in-game currency that mech pilots earned when they won matches against their opponents. The market set a minimum price of 1600 gold, reflecting the cost of raw materials if Ves had paid for them in gold.

"I'm not stupid enough to sell it at cost. Let's add a hundred gold. My labor's has got to be worth something."

Just after he finished with the lot, he also checked his user profile. He chose to hide his real name for now. It wouldn't do for his future career in mech design to be tainted with this awful design. He casually set his nickname as Chasing Clouds, as a reference to his home planet and and his aspirations.

With that chore done, Ves threw the mission to the back of his mind and went to Mech section of the market.

He browsed all of the available variants of the Fantasia 2R. If he wanted to design a competitive but affordable Fantasia model, he needed to do his research on what market already offered. He could then tailor a list of requirements and scour the market for fitting components.

Ves sunk into his work. He fell into the enthusiasm starting his career in mech design. Even if designing virtual mechs for a game didn't bestow him with the qualifications of a real mech designer, he could still polish his basic skills. Once he accomplished a handful of sales, he could purchase better licenses and design better variants.

"Still, I can't play with virtual mechs forever. There's no way I can earn enough credits to meet my next interest payment."

He needed to earn enough credits to fund the operations of his real mech business. If the expensive fixed cost of purchasing licences was left out, then he could easily make the deadline. Reality wasn't so kind.

"Virtual licences only apply to in-game designs. There's no way I can afford a legitimate production licence with my current assets."

Actual production licences came with prohibitive costs and restrictions. For the privilege of using another company's intellectual property, Ves had to pay a high price. He also had to give the original owners a cut of his earnings.

Along with the cost of raw materials, profits grew thin.

"It's impossible to make it without the help of the System. I hope the 2R-E is going to sell out quickly, because I have a feeling I'm going to need all the Design Points I can get."

Lucky sauntered over and meowed at Ves.

"What's up buddy?"

The cat tugged at Ves' pants and tried to lead him outside. Curious, Ves followed the mischievous cat outside and spotted something sparkling behind the weeds. Ves came close and picked it up, revealing a green gemstone. Upon realizing its significance, he hurriedly dropped it down.

"Even if you're a machine, I'm still not touching your crap." Ves told the cunning cat.

He scanned the gem according to the System's instructions.

[Emerald of Minor Armor]

Increases the durability of a mech's armor plates by 0.5% when installed.

For a gem of its size, its effects were heaven-defying. Despite the paltry boost, the gem cost nothing to make. If he kept feeding Lucky the same cheap ore, he could end up with a pile of emeralds. If they all had the same effect, they might accomplish something great if combined.

"System, if I have two of the same gems, do their benefits stack?"

[Of course not. A mech can only benefit from a limited amount of gems. Gemstones that provide the same effects do not provide more benefits when put into the same mech.]

Every time the System hinted at something amazing, it turned out to be limited.

"I need to feed my cat something better." Ves muttered and resolved to order something better and have it delivered to his workshop tomorrow.

Unknown to Ves, on the other side of Cloudy Curtain, a certain twelve-year old potentate sat down in a fully-enclosed simulator. He had just finished school and rented a sim pod from the local gaming center downtown.

The boy avidly played Iron Spirit ever since he recently finished his basic lessons on mech piloting. It hardly turned him into a qualified pilot, but it allowed him to pass the minimum requirements to finally play the game.

Calling himself Shifter66 in the game, he enjoyed piloting faster mechs. There was something about running in a multi-ton machine that charmed him. Playing the heavier mechs bored him to tears. He preferred to be quick on his feet, pestering enemies and dodging shots rather than slugging it out in a head-on collision.

As a twelve-year old, he couldn't lay any claim to greatness, but he thought he possessed a solid foundation in piloting the simplest of 1-star mechs. He played a couple of hundred matches, and while he lost most of them, he still managed to put together a few thousand gold for a new purchase.

When Shifter66 visited the game's online market, he somehow wavered his attention to a line of feminine models. A young man like him already started to pay some attention to the girls in his school. He channeled that energy to the graceful models on display. He picked a random direction to explore further, coming upon the old but still fairly popular Fantasia series.

While the boy only halfheartedly inspected the models, he made an abrupt stop once the random selection displayed a highly unusual variant. The boy held out his palm, freezing the image and allowing him to look at the model in greater detail.

[Fantasia 2R-E]

Tier: 1-star

Base Model: Fantasia 2R

Purchase price: 1700 gold

"She looks perfect!"

A more demanding mech pilot might comment that the mech looked horribly out of balance. Any sane pilot might also complain that the added weight of the variant's rear addition served to slow it down to the point of making the mech useless in any short-distance engagements.

Shifter66 on the other hand kept his eyes glued to the rear end. "I gotta have it!"

And so Ves' first mech got sold.

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Engulfed by the satisfaction of a new purchase, Shifter66 hopped into the 2R-E's cockpit. Without even spending time to grow familiar with the modified mech, he entered the arena and initiated a search for an opponent. Shifter66 wanted to dive right into a battle with his new baby.

As a fairly new and unskilled pilot, Shifter66 naturally got matched against a pool of similarly low-skilled players. Iron Spirit featured a sophisticated matchmaking system, and the lowest segment was the Bronze League.

Every potentate who played Iron Spirit started from the Bronze League. Only by winning a sufficient amount of times would one gain the opportunity to promote to the Silver League, which most mech enthusiasts consider it to be the real beginning of the game.

That was because the developers enacted a lot of restrictions to the matches taking place in Bronze. Players could only earn a little amount of gold, though they also had few opportunities to lose it due to simplifying repair costs. Matchmaking in the lowest league also didn't cross star systems, which meant that most low-tier players fought against opponents from the same planet.

Bronze leaguers were also limited from purchasing any mechs rated higher than 1 stars, which really frustrated a lot of kids who wanted to dive right into big and modern mechs.

As for Shifter66, he hadn't been exposed to the world of mechs for long. The mechs he already had access to already occupied his full attention.

His view changed into a preparatory screen. The game found an opponent for him. After confirming his mech, weapon and map preferences, he waited for his opponent to do the same.

After a short wait, the boy's mech landed upon a grassy hill. The first thing he did was to engage his sensors to see if his opponent was in range. One of the few good things about the Fantasia 2R was its fantastic scanning power, courtesy of its hair-like sensor bundle attached to its head.

The mech found an energy signature fairly quickly, which meant his opponent wasn't hiding. The boyeagerly commanded his mech to move forward, only to trip and almost fall backwards his mech's balance fell apart.

"Ah what the?!"

Only until now did it sink in to him that having a gigantic rear wasn't all that good. He wrestled with his neural interface for several minutes, trying to find a running posture that wouldn't tip him backwards. He finally managed to accomplish a crude stance by bending his mech's torso forwards, which had the unintentional effect of making his rear more pronounced.

"Who cares, as long as it works. Let's try the booster."

Upon activating the Gemini's powerful thrusters, the Fantasia practically rocketed forwards. Only through some haphazard steps did Shifter66 manage to keep his mech on his feet and vaguely control his direction forward.

"WOOHOOO!"

As the boyfurther adapted to the mech's forward momentum, he found himself wild with joy. He could practically feel the wind whipping his mech as he casually broke through his personal speed record.

Unfortunately he neglected one thing. His opponent hadn't been twiddling his thumbs.

"Shifter66 eh, too bad you're piloting a light mech. My Groenig-Halman eat light mechs for breakfast." The player known as Triceratopssss boasted.

He had the wins to back it up. KRH Heavy Industries' Groenig-Halman models offered a good balance between weight, energy and armor. They generally suffered against heavier mechs, but anything lighter couldn't go through its armor before the G-H pulverized them.

The G-H's design mimicked a gorilla, so it could bend down on all fours and sprint surprisingly fast in a short duration. Triceratopssss had already seen the blazing energy signature approaching him on his scanners, so he readied his posture to dodge and chase after the lighter mech. He already licked his lips as he imagined his G-H's powered arms tearing the soft Fantasia's frame apart.

"Will you walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly."

However, the Fantasia 2R-E ran forward so uncontrollably that Shifter66 doubted he could even regain control without crashing into the ground. Only until his forward view revealed his opponent's G-H model did he realize he couldn't do anything but crash head-on. Unable to even fire his mech's pistol with all the jostling, the boy plainly threw it to the side, instead choosing to draw the Fantasia's default sword from the embedded scabbard in the back.

"I don't believe my baby will lose to you!"

The G-H appeared to be frozen in shock, but as the distance dwindled, it regained its composure and crossed its meaty arms forward. The sword glanced off one of the arms, failing to penetrate its thick armor. The forward momentum nonetheless allowed it to travel forwards and pierce the G-H's chest. The armor yielded helplessly, letting the sword cut deep into the mech and slice through important systems and cabling. The G-H lost 35% of its energy and all of its weapons on its left side.

An even larger collision followed. The rest of the Fantasia's frame slammed forward, dealing more damage to the lighter mech than the G-H due to the differences in mass. The Fantasia's upper torso disintegrated from the impact, shards and other debris flying in every direction. Its head crushed into a pancake against the G-H's torso, somehow barreling past the heavier mech's armor and penetrating through the cockpit embedded deep within.

Triceratopssss practically had a fright when his viewscreen burst apart. He hastily commanded his remaining functioning arm to toss the immobilized Fantasia from his partially crippled mech.

"Get off me!"

The feminine mech crashed against the ground face down with its rear pointing upwards.

Triceratopssss had no time to do a detailed damage assessment. Instead he lumbered his mech over to the fallen frame of his opponent's mech and aimed his arm cannon. While the pilot didn't recognize the Gemini module attached to the Fantasia's rear, he nonetheless recognized it was an essential component.

[Unable to fire. Ammunition feed disrupted.]

The G-H's pilot cursed and abandoned his ranged options. He readied his fist for a punch.

Shifter66 frantically tried to command his wrecked mech to move. "Damnit, why isn't she moving!?"

"This is the end of the road for you, punk!"

Just as the G-H landed the punch, a hatch on the Gemini blew apart. It revealed a hard shelled cockpit, which ejected instantly from the Fantasia with substantial thrust. While it didn't travel with the force of an armor piercing shell, it nevertheless possessed enough force to smash apart the G-H's ramshackle torso armor and pound its pilot into meat sauce.

Exhaust smoke spurted out of the Gemini's gaping cavity. Burn marks littered the immobilized Fantasia and the surrounding foliage as the decapitated Groenig-Halman mech collapse like a puppet with its strings cut.

[Winner: Shifter66.]

"Huh?" The boy groggily wondered as the rewards from the win poured in. "It worked? I won!"

It had been a complete fluke to eject the redundant extra cockpit. In the final moments, the boy pretty much pressed every neural button he could find, trying to get his mech to do something other than being a sitting duck. Ejecting the cockpit was one of the last options left.

"Hahahaha! I knew my wouldn't disappoint!"

Shifter66 spent a significant fraction of his newly earned gold to instantly repair his mech. More expensive mechs required manual repairs or payment of real credits to get it done instantly. Fortunately, Iron Spirit didn't bother to milk excessive fees from its beginners, so the boy had nothing to worry about. He threw himself back into the arena.

Triceratopssss, who turned out to be a boy just a year older than Shifter66, simply sat stunned in the simulator. He couldn't believe he got done in by an ejected cockpit. He loaded the replay of the last match, fast-forwarding to the final moment before slowing down the playback to leave him with plenty of time to watch.

The same incomprehensible action happened again, just in a different perspective. Triceratopssss chose to watch the event from the side. He could see the immobilized Fantasia billowing out ejection fire and smoke from its battered rear module. Its left hatch blew apart, making room for the abruptly accelerating metal shell that protected the empty cockpit.

Normally, any ejecting cockpit followed an upwards trajectory as soon as it left the chassis of the mech that held it. If Triceratopssss had just been a little more patient, he could have let the cockpit fly harmlessly in sky. Instead he could only watch as his past self moved the G-H into punching range of the Fantasia, thereby exposing its damaged torso to his opponent's crazy strike. He pretty much impaled himself onto the enemy's lance.

"This isn't real. This stupid mech looks so dumb and ugly. Who the hell made this mech? This Shifter66 must be trolling if he's bored enough to bring such a mech into the arena."

Triceratopssss opened a window showing the statistics of the Fantasia 2R-E. The numbers made little sense to him, as he hadn't been studying mechs very long. Following the link to the seller called Chasing Clouds, he found out next to nothing as the account had been created very recently, with no other mechs for sale. The seller's privacy settings caused Triceratopssss' impromptu investigation a dead end.

"Well, if I can't find anything out about the seller, then let's check Mr. Shifter66. I want to see whether you're a pro playing on an alt account."

Though Triceratopssss spent his time in the Bronze League, he occasionally fought against opponents with a much higher apparent skill level on occasion. These monsters mostly consisted of expert mech pilots with a successful career in the upper leagues of the game. Sometimes expert pilots with real-life mech combat experience also took the game for a spin, causing many helpless Bronze Leaguers to cry helplessly as they got beat up in turns.

When Triceratopssss loaded into Shifter66's next match, he already saw that the battle had reached the peak. The Fantasia 2R-E had difficulty catching his much lighter opponent, who happened to be piloting a Fantasia 1R.

As the predecessor model, the 1R lagged in several areas compared to the 2R. Nonetheless, the 1R the opponent piloted was the stock model, granted him a decisive advantage in agility and short-ranged mobility.

The forest environment also bogged Shifter66 down. His 2R-E couldn't find a clearing to put his substantial boosters to good use. Without the extra speed afforded by the boosters, his 2R-E had been rendered into an overweight mech, clumsily trying to turn its sluggish frame in the direction of his flitting opponent.

The 1R's pilot played it smart, Triceratopssss noted. The 1R seemed to be wary of Shifter66's mech boosters. It neither faced the 2R-E directly in the front and behind, using its superiority in lateral movement to keep the mech to the sides.

The boy could only grit his teeth as he endured the light laser blasts digging into his Fantasia's rear armor. He only managed to endure until now because the enemy's Fantasia lacked the capacity to field heavier firepower. However, just its basic pistol possessed enough punch to eventually slag the 2R-E's armor into a puddle. Shifter66's own pistol had already been shot to pieces and he could only try to make potshots with his heavier but unwieldy marksman rifle.

"You asshole! Are you a monkey or a man? Stand still for a moment!"

The 1R ignored the complaint, and resolutely kept up its dodging. The boy knew he couldn't let this merry-go-round continue, so he activated his boosters and just rocketed into the trees. His mech crashed through the trees with minor difficulty, though he accumulated internal structure damage with each tree felled. He couldn't keep this up for long.

Nonetheless, Shifter66 managed to retake the initiative. The 1R's pilot panicked. Allowing the 2R-E to build up distance meant exposing him to powerful laser fire. He hastily followed after the rocketing mech, inadvertently lining up right behind the 2R-E's Gemini system.

"Behold my ultimate move!" Shifter66 yelled as he slammed his fist on the secondary ejection button. The Fantasia's twin cockpit whooshed forward from the Gemini model in another fiery blast. This time the cockpit kept up a straight forward trajectory. Changing that setting was the only thing the boy prepared in advance before he dove into his next match.

The cockpit rocketed backwards with a speedy but avoidable trajectory. The 1R could easily step sideways if it kept its chassis in the correct stance. Unfortunately the stock model chased after the 2R-E with full speed, allowing for very little leeway to dodge immediately. By the time the 1R managed to shift its torso, the blazing cockpit slammed its right shoulder to pieces.

The Fantasia 1R massed much less than the G-H, so the impact this time resulted in much heavier damage even though it occurred off-center. Practically half its shoulder and the entire arm blew apart. The battered cockpit flew off in a random direction with the Fantasia's gun stuck in its shell.

"Haha, you're mine now!"

The boy was ecstatic to see his gamble succeed. He stopped the boosters, causing his mech to abruptly slow down and trip. It took an embarrassingly long time to get his mech up its feet, but the kid felt too flushed with success to feel any bother about it. The 2R-E lumbered back to the crashed 1R model.

The loss of a shoulder and an arm shouldn't have crippled a Fantasia 1R. most of its essential systems rested in its waist, so as long as it possessed two functional legs, it could still outplay the 2R-E. The pilot eventually lacked the skill to compensate for its damage, as all he could accomplish so far was to run around in circles.

The boy stopped his approach and raised his mech's rifle. The beams had a little difficulty keeping up a consistent aim, but the sheer number of shots succeeded in punching through the 1R's poor chassis.

[Winner: Shifter66.]

"Hahaha!" The boy laughed as he raised his fist. He had won again, proving him that his gold was well-spent. Though clumsy, his mech held a few surprises, and anyone who thought he was an easy target would get a nasty present.

Triceratopssss on the other hand cursed Shifter66's luck. He felt a little glad that he wasn't the only pilot who fell for the 2R-E's trick. He kept spectating Shifter66 as he mindlessly doved into the arena.

Subsequent matches proved that the boy had celebrated too early. Matchmaking had adjusted Shifter66's opponents after he kept relying on cheap tricks. These slightly more seasoned pilots recognized the Gemini add-on and knew what it could do. Though they laughed at the 2R-E's rear-heavy appearance, they still treated their enemy seriously.

The lighter mechs generally ran rings around Shifter66, taking small bites at a time and leaving him with little opportunity to strike back. The heavier mechs proved to be easier opponents for him, as they were less capable of dodging his newly invented ultimate move. Only the heaviest 1-star mechs could shrug off the damage caused by the sudden collision.

Remembering that he had to go home for dinner, the boy eventually called it a day. Win a couple more wins than losses in his record, the potentate felt that buying the Fantasia 2R-E was one of the best decisions in his life. Before he logged off, he added the designer in his address book.

Oblivious to the potentate, Ves looked at his System's notification with a puzzled expression.

"The mission finished that quickly? I can't believe there's someone stupid enough to buy the mech I put on sale."

Lucky concurred with a meow while shaking its mechanical behind in Ves' direction. The young man playfully picked up the pet and cuddled him against his chest.

"At least the stuff you crap out can be sold."

Now that he finally received some Design Points, Ves switched back to the shop and browsed its catalog with greater attention. The previous time he just took a casual look, choosing to ignore the more unrealistic entries as pure nonsense. Now that he swept his eyes past them again, Ves widened his eyes.

"If the System is really capable of doing this with Design Points, then meeting the next interest payment is in my grasp!"

Ves reached an unconscious threshold in his mentality. He had always been a little bit skeptical of the System which suddenly intruded in his life. Now though, he felt ready to embrace it with all its oddities.

While some designers counted on their fancy degrees to start their careers, others threw money and connections at the problem. Ves only needed the System to pave his way to the top.

[You have received a new mission.]

[Mission]

Mission: Tutorial Part 3 - Mass Production

Difficulty: F-Rank

Prerequisites: Completed Tutorial Part 2

Description

A Mech Designer should not be content at selling a model once. Real designers must have flocks of people begging to purchase their products. Please sell a hundred virtual mechs of your own creation within a month.

Reward: 1 random 10-year combat mech production licence

The System screwed him for real this time. "How am I suppose to sell a HUNDRED of them in a month?!"

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After Ves finished freaking out, he read the mission description again and understood he missed out an important detail. The mission demanded that he sell virtual mechs 'of his own creation'. What the phrasing implied that he wasn't stuck with trying to peddle the ungainly Fantasia 2R-E to a group of idiots.

As long as Ves spent the month designing a couple of decent variants and promoting them on the local net, he might reach the sales figure.

A hundred sales a month might sound like peanuts to established virtual mech designers, but meeting it remained a hefty challenge to a nobody like Ves.

"I can't physically build all hundred models by hand." Ves concluded as he formulated a basic plan. "At this tier, pilots don't demand too much from their models. It'll be fine if I outsource the manufacturing to the game."

The game made it easy to automate production of any design as long as the owner had fabricated it in the virtual workshop by hand at least once.

It came with hefty downsides if Ves decided to enlist this service. The cost of production doubled and the quality of the finished mechs took a substantial hit. These were deliberately set by the BSBH Corporation in order to avoid the mech market being dominated by a small number of professional producers.

The biggest challenge was to design a custom mech that was still worth buying even after its quality took a dive when put into mass production. It had to offer at least one substantial advantage over the competition.

He'd never be able to accomplish such a design without help. Luckily, the bright credits and the Design Points he earned from the previous tutorial missions could help him out a lot, if he spent them wisely.

Despite the tight 1 month deadline, Ves felt highly motivated. The reward for completion mentioned that he could receive a production license for a real mech. Licensing costs for outdated mechs were modest, but nobody bought antiques except for special purposes. The licenses for current mechs started with prices ranging from tens of millions of bright credits, not an easy amount for Ves to pull out of nowhere. The System taking care of the license reduced his projected spending by at least 80%.

Only the randomness of the reward kept him a little vigilant. He hadn't received much luck with the System so far, so he felt there might be a possibility he might receive a useless model.

Any design over a hundred years old were too obsolete to be of use in the battlefield. While some mech designers have found a niche by refurbishing classic models with modern materials and technology, it had never been a large enough market.

Perhaps the System's randomness might also screw him in the other direction. Ves could receive a model that was too high-end, one that cost billions in materials alone to produce. His small-scale second-hand 3D printer might not even have the capabilities to process all of the exotic materials involved with the production of the parts. If he was particularly unlucky, some big players might even wonder why his small mech boutique possessed such an expensive production license in the first place.

Ves shook his head and got down to Earth. "First, lets spend the Design Points. They're not much, but enough for a total beginner like me."

He had received a windfall of a 1000 DP for completing the tutorial mission, but he couldn't rely on earning the same amount going forward. He only earned 1 DP for completing a successful design, and another point for selling it. At this pace, he'd face a considerable drought of DP in the near future.

"The points aren't doing anything sitting in my Status. I might as well spend them as I desperately need to improve my basic capabilities."

His recent experience in designing a mech variant and putting it on the market helped put his skill level in perspective. Ves had a better what his good and bad points are in comparison to other inexperienced mech designers who sold their work in Iron Spirit.

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 1012

Attributes

Strength: 0.6

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 0.3

Concentration: 1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice

Evaluation: A loser on the right track.

His status hardly changed since the last time he viewed it. Only his concentration had improved by 0.1. While he could work hard to raise his attributes and skills on his own, the System could do the same.

While he could have bought more equipment or pets from the System, what he really needed right now was to improve his own capabilities. Ves had enough sense not to rely too much on external help.

After browsing the Shop and the Skill Tree for a couple of hours, Ves formed a spending strategy based on the prices set by the System.

Attributes formed the basics. Not all of them were useful, but intelligence, concentration and creativity had a pretty big influence in Ves' future limits.

His creativity especially appeared deficient, something he could confirm first hand as any casual drawing he sketched would draw looks of disgust.

Ves wanted to raise his three core attributes substantially, but if he did that, he might not get an immediate benefit for the amount he spent. They were just too big and vague.

Developing his skill tree provided immediate results. He could improve practical sub-skills like increasing his proficiency when working with the 3d printer or become more proficient in balancing a mech's weight distribution. A lot of the fancier and impressive skills cost millions of DP to unlock and required the acquisition of other skills first. Those goodies were still too far away for the moment. Ves spotted plenty of low-hanging fruit that could improve the value of his designs for a modest amount of DP.

Frankly, Ves was spoiled for choice. But if he wanted to accomplish a hundred sales within a month and earn enough credits to meet his interest payment, he needed to ignore the extras and focus on the money makers. Spreading himself out in too many areas of interest would dilute his gains, resulting in a marginal increase in the value of his designs. An improvement of 1% in every category was not as eye catching as a jump in 10% in a single criteria.

"I need to think deep about this. My choices here will affect the rest of my career."

Many star designers gained their fame from standing out in a particular aspect. Raul 'The Armorer' Mendoza was a genius in the area of developing new armor alloys and employing them in ingenious ways in his mech designs. The mechs his company manufactured supposedly boasted the highest survival rate.

Another star that Ves admired was Jonathan Rasmussen, known as 'Apollo'. He only developed one line of mechs in his entire life, Sunburst series. Each of the Sunbursts incorporated fire attacks in its arsenal, and they grew increasingly refined with the development of every new generation. In fifty years, Apollo had introduced the Sunburst as a quirky but niche mech into the pinnacle of heat-based mechs.

Naturally, there were also stars who went in the opposite direction. 'The Polymath' Claire Gramza possessed one of the most formidable intellects in human space. Any field she put her mind into, from physics to computer science, she reached the top. She was also notoriously prolific in pushing out designs, many of them incorporating the latest advances in whatever field of science she was studying at the moment.

Ves knew he wasn't a genius who could spread his attention everywhere, so he had no intentions of imitating the Polymath. He'd be better off imitating the previous two examples and pick one or two things he could do better.

He always did better in the mechanical side of things. His skill proficiency in his status screen reflected this. Ves browsed the skill tree and picked a couple of interesting choices.

[3D Printer Proficiency I: 200 DP

[Jury Rigging I: 150 DP

[Lightweight Armor Optimization I: 200 DP

[Speed Tuning I: 200 DP

His choices reflected a bias on light mechs. This was a practical decision reflecting his economic circumstances. Outside of games, heavier mechs were mainly employed in professional and military outfits, groups who generally did business with the major arms manufacturers and disdained taking orders from small, one-man mech boutiques.

Lighter mechs required less raw materials to build up and the low-end production licenses were dirt cheap. The public market consisted mostly of less formal outfits who try to save costs everywhere, so they widely use light and medium weighing mechs whenever they could get away with it. Ves had little to worry about running out of buyers if he went with this route.

He spent much of his remaining points on boosting his Creativity attribute. It was a deliberate choice on his part. Though increasing intelligence might provide him with a better mind, it cost a lot more points to improve since it was already relatively high. His creativity on the other hand was severely dysfunctional. Designing mechs was not just a science, but also an art.

As Ves bought 0.7 points worth of Creativity, he immediately felt the benefits as the amount of ideas bouncing around his mind had skyrocketed. He looked around and saw the world in a slightly different way. Everything looked beautiful, and each object had its charm. Lucky looked especially appealing, having been modeled after a cat but retaining its mechanical origins quite clearly. Ves felt as if he had been seeing the world in black and white for so long and only now did he start to see color.

"This major boost of creativity is really making a difference. I haven't realized that it has always held back my ambitions."

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 12

Attributes

Strength: 0.6

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 1

Concentration: 1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice - [3D Printer Proficiency I]

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice - [Jury Rigging I] [Speed Tuning I]

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice - [Lightweight Armor Optimization I]

Evaluation: Someone who likes 'em skinny.

The results of his spending put Ves in a good mood. He was itching to engage the designer and let his creativity loose once he finished selecting a couple of virtual licenses in the game. Just before he visited the in-game market, Ves first looked up his 2R-E variant and chose to let Iron Spirit take care of the manufacturing. The minimum price rose to 3200 gold, which was still not too pricey but not the best deal available on the market. This time he left the price alone, as he wasn't intending to earn a profit this time. He just wanted to reach a hundred sales as soon as possible.

"Not that anyone is stupid enough to throw 3200 gold on an ugly mech like the 2R-E. Now that I've raised several of my skills, I can see the flaws from its crude design. I'm really embarrassed I actually built such an abomination."

Still, a sale was a sale, so Ves hadn't deleted the design from his account.

Ves spent the next few hours scouring the components section of the market. His new sub-skills helped weed out the awful parts from his selection. His improved creativity allowed him to consider unconventional combinations. Though difficult to implement, he might be able to forcibly cobble them together with his jury rigging skill. He eventually settled for purchasing the virtual licenses of a couple of good quality 1-star components.

[Astoria Experimental Flight System: 25,000 bright credits

[Fayette ECM Mk. I: 7,000 bright credits

[Red Eye Assisted Aim Module: 9,999 bright credits

[MTTR Removable Battery Pack: 3,000 bright credits

[Harconix Light DMR Version 3: 19,999 bright credits

[Festive Cloud Generator: 5,000 bright credits

[Mirin-21 Ultralight Armor Plating: 10,000 bright credits

Almost 80,000 bright credits exited his spending account as Ves finalized his purchases. Parting with half of his newly gained credits hurt, but he consoled himself for making the necessary investments. The component licenses he chose performed exceptionally in the 1-Star range.

Their high prices also ensured that not many of Ves' competitors incorporated the components in their own designs. The 1-Star mechs ultimately served as training wheels for new potentates, so it wasn't worth investing too much when one had access to much better mechs in a few years.

Overall, the parts Ves had licensed all revolved around enhancing flight. The early mechs such as the Fantasia lacked flight options due to the immaturity of flight technology back those ages. The Astoria flight system had been invented a hundred years after the introduction of the Fantasia, and featured lackluster power, short flight capacity and an over-sized wing profile that was easy to damage.

But it did the job. It had been one of the first successful modules to allow for mechs to fly in standard planetary conditions, thus introducing a new dimension in mech battles.

"Let's get to work. I have to integrate them into a single coordinated platform."

Ves opened the System's designer and loaded the stock Fantasia 2R model in his virtual workspace. He loaded the components he just bought one by one and spent hours integrating them properly into the Fantasia 2R's frame. It was never as simple as bolting them on. Each placement needed careful judgment and tedious work.

The Astoria wings came first, its huge skeletal 'wingbones' flaring impressively outwards, making the Fantasia appear like a fallen angel. Its combination of thrusters and antigravity systems meant the wings had been designed to maximize its surface area. This also made it easy to damage, as any casual hit could reduce the component's performance and ground the mech.

To combat this vulnerability, Ves choose to carefully bulk the Astoria's limbs with the Mirin-21 Ultralight armor plating. This was a delicate and error-prone job, one that could easily reduce the flight system's efficiency by a drastic amount. He ultimately had to spend an entire day trying to get it right.

He placed the Fayette electronic countermeasure or ECM over the left eye, making sure to align it so the short antenna extended from the Fantasia's ear. The ECM insured that automated and aim-assisted systems had a harder time tracking the mech. It worked particularly well against guided missiles, as long as they were from the same tier.

The Red Eye Assisted Aim Module had been placed over the other eye. Its red, gleaming lens giving the Fantasia a menacing look. The Red Eye performed well against mechs without ECM, helping pilots keep their aim onto enemy mechs once they acquired their targets. Aim assistance was practically essential in all low-tier flying mechs. Pilots simply couldn't aim steadily enough if they jerked around in the air.

All of these systems drained energy, especially the flight system. The modules came with their own energy storage, but as 1-Star parts they lacked endurance compared to modern alternatives. This required Ves to place rectangular MTTR battery packs anywhere he could fit on the Fantasia without overburdening the frame. The only place he could fit more battery packs was at the front upper torso. He papered over the vulnerable packs with additional ultralight armor plating.

He placed most of them around the waist, making the chassis look like it wore an overfilled tool belt. The great thing about the MTTR was that the packs were disposable, allowing pilots to eject them once they were drained of energy. He covered them up with Mirin-21 armor plates to make them less prone to damage.

Finally he added in an unconventional but potentially effective system, the Festive Cloud Generator. A specialty of Cloudy Curtain, Ves had visited many mech shows on his home planet that used the colorful cloud generator to create patterns in the sky. Though its bright colors hardly helped with stealth, Ves thought that it might help obscure the Fantasia and its vulnerable wings if placed on the rear just underneath the Astoria.

Once he had integrated all of these components, he set the Fantasia's default weaponry to be a bog-standard combat knife and the new Harconix Light DMR. Not quite a sniper rifle nor a standard assault rifle, the Harconix nevertheless offered precision at a generous firing rate. The rifle's hefty power requirements necessitated a power coupling with the mech, meaning that if the Fantasia dropped the DMR, it couldn't be fired anymore.

Once Ves brought all of the newly bought parts together, the new variant looked nothing like its stock model. Though it gained a generous amount of mass, the new Fantasia also appeared like a predator, capable of striking down any interlopers from afar.

He enjoyed putting this variant together. He had been able to flex his improved creativity and newly acquired sub-skills to do a much better job of integrating the parts than if he was still a fresh graduate.

"This is hardly a Fantasia anymore, so let's call you a Fantasia 2R Seraphim."

Before Ves submitted the design for approval, he painted over the entire frame in Cloudy Curtain's national colors. It made the Fantasia appear as if it was born in the skies.

[Design Evaluation: Fantasia 2R Seraphim.]

Variant name: Fantasia 2R Seraphim

Base model: Fantasia 2R

Original Manufacturer: Kezia Armaments

Weight Classification: Light

Recommended Role: Aerial Marksman

Armor: D

Carrying Capacity: F

Aesthetics: A

Endurance: D-

Energy Efficiency: D-

Flexibility: C

Firepower: C

Integrity: F

Mobility: A-

Spotting: B

X-Factor: F

Deviance: 44%

Performance improvement: 17%

Overall evaluation: The Fantasia 2R Seraphim features a superior aerial performance at a horrible cost. Its performance in close-ranged combat has been sacrificed for powerful long-ranged firepower. The mech is able to outperform its opponents as long as it has energy to spare, which isn't much. The Seraphim further shines out due to its attractive appeal.

[You have received 50 Design Points for completing an original design with a performance improvement of over 10%.]

Ves whooped into the air with a cheer. He actually did it! He completed a custom design that outperformed the base model significantly. Sure, he overspent way too much to achieve such a boost, but it nonetheless propelled his Seraphim in the top tier of custom Fantasias.

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When Ves uploaded the new Seraphim design on the market, he quickly bought the required. Unlike the 2R-E, the Seraphim boasted a much more complex integration of disparate components. A working model demanded that Ves take much better care of the fabrication and assembly of parts. His increased proficiency in working with the 3D printer helped him in printing out parts with less deviation than normal, which further assisted him in making the assembly occur without many problems.

Ves received a nasty fright once he saw the final bill for the frame.

"I already have to spend 4400 gold on the raw materials alone. If I let Iron Spirit automate its production, then the final price will at least be doubled."

A 1-Star mech that cost 8800 gold to buy was an absolute luxury in the game. It took an average player months to build up such a fortune.

Ves decided to add a credit price to his model. "Since it's a high performing model, I can at least feel justified if I charge real money for the Seraphim."

He set a modest price of 3300 bright credits per model, which was already at the floor of what the game asked of him. If he sold his mechs with bright credits, the cost of materials and manufacturing would also be deducted from the same currency, so in essence Ves earned no profits at this price. 3300 bright credits still put the Seraphim well into the premium bracket. Ves felt a little nervous of competing against more well-designed models that mech pilots could acquire at this price.

"I don't believe my Fantasia will do too badly. It's one of the few flight-capable mechs in this tier after all. That's got to be worth something."

Ves refused to sit on his laurels after he finished putting the Seraphim on sale. There were thousands of customized Fantasia models and millions of other 1-Star variants in the market. Hundreds of new creations popped up every day so Ves had to go the extra mile in order to make his product stand out from the competition.

First he visited all the major mech enthusiast board on the galactic net and shamelessly made some posts exaggerating the Seraphim's performance. He then visited Cloudy Curtain's virtual mech pilot community and exhorted the Seraphim as a patriotic purchase, as it integrated the planet's famed Festive Cloud Generator.

Though his online postings might generate a minor amount of attention, there was really too much crap on the net these days. His pathetic attempts at advertisement might as well be a drop in the ocean. After considering the issue for a few minutes, Ves decided to take the plunge and enlisted a short-term advertising service from the game.

Iron Spirit featured a sprawling market, and the developers recognized that some designers wanted their own creations to stand out. So Iron Spirit's market place offered several methods in which to make a model stand out, such as putting them on top of search results, or putting them on display in the virtual environment.

The cheapest option started at a thousand bright credits a day, and Ves bought a package deal of 9,000 credits for ten days of sporadic advertisement. This only left Ves with 11,000 credits in his accounts, which almost turned him into a pauper.

"Making money comes later. Right now, it's best for me to complete the System's mission. I'll earn much more once I receive a real production license. Peddling thousands of digital mechs in a game just can't compare to making a single sale in the real universe."

After finishing his publication, Ves had plenty of time left so he got back to the designer to come up with cheaper variants. His experience with modifying the Fantasia model helped him figure the areas that could be improved.

"Hm, let's start with up-armoring the chassis."

As Ves tinkered with his designs, someone else on Cloudy Curtain logged into Iron Spirit and checked out Ves' profile as a habit.

"Oh?" Triceratopssss widened his eyes. "Chasing Clouds finally uploaded a new mech. Let's see if it looks stupider than his first creation.

The teenager figured the new Fantasia might sport an exaggerated chest or something. What he encountered instead was a marvelous visage. The highly customized mech looked like a Fantasia on steroids. Its wide, stretching wings occasionally poked out of the celestial clouds that emitted from the rear. The rainbow coloration offered little utility in combat, but it made the Fantasia look as if it stepped out of heaven.

Only the custom mech's menacing red eye and lengthy marksman rifle gave the model some teeth. Triceratopssss quickly figured out the mech had been made for sniping in the air. Aerial sniping was one of the most difficult specializations a pilot could focus on, but at least this mech included a built-in aim assist module.

"So it's called a Seraphim, huh. It sure turned the Fantasia into something incredible."

The mech excelled in both looks and performance. Though Triceratopssss intended to specialize in piloting medium weight mechs, he nonetheless grew interested in buying the Seraphim and adding it to his mech stables. His eyes scrolled down the specifications sheet in admiration before ending up at the prices.

"PFFF! What! 3300 credits! That's a ripoff! At least the gold price looks more reasonable."

Unfortunately, 4400 gold was out of his price range. He hadn't outgrown his Groenig-Halman mech yet. Triceratopssss calmed down and stopped his impulsive urge to purchase the Seraphim.

If he knew that the gold price of the Seraphim doubled once the hand-crafted model was sold, he'd likely spit his lunch.

As for paying in credits? A kid like him only had 50 credits in pocket money, far too insufficient to splurge on an in-game item. His parents would scold him for wasting so much money.

"This mech is out of my price range. There's no way I can buy this luxury model. But... I think I know someone who can. Lemme check my friend list."

[Triceratopssss: Yo buddy, are you available?]

[TheSeventhSnake: Whaddup?]

[Triceratopssss: I found a new mech variant on the market. I think you'll be interested.]

[TheSeventhSnake: It must be something weird if you're taking the time to tell me about it. Give me a name, I'll check it out.]

[Triceratopssss: Fantasia 2R Seraphim.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Damn, you're right. This is the best Fantasia I've seen up till now. But what is up with the price. I could buy a top performing flight mech with all that gold and still have some left for some bling.]

[Triceratopssss: All of those mechs look like birds or underfed men. This is one of the few Fantasia's with a decently integrated flight system. You can even do some cool tricks with the cloud generator. Just give it a spin, man.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Why are you trying to push me this mech anyway? Do you know Chasing Clouds?]

[Triceratopssss: Nah. I lost an arena match against another custom Fantasia by the same designer. I've been keeping my eye on him since then since he managed to come up with something stupid.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Ok, let me see his profile... the Fantasia 2R-E, right? It's the only other model on his account. Oh...]

[Triceratopssss: ...]

[TheSeventhSnake: HAHAHAHA XD]

[Triceratopssss: Yeah, I know.]

[TheSeventhSnake: You've GOT to send me the replay footage of that match!]

[Triceratopssss: Forget about it.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase?]

[Triceratopssss: I'll send it to you if you'll buy the Seraphim.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Sure. Done.]

Triceratopssss checked his friend's public profile and indeed, the angelic mech had just been added to his mech stable. He was sure TheSeventhSnake bought the mech with credits. Earning gold in the Bronze League was hard. The snake could afford to waste a couple of thousand credits away with a rich daddy.

Having no other choice, Triceratopssss sent the replay file to his friend. A few minutes went by.

[TheSeventhSnake: XD XD XD XD No wonder you're so obsessed! You got pounded by someone's ass! That last moment is literally gold!]

[Triceratopssss: Please don't laugh too much. I'm going to have to live with it for the rest of my life.]

[TheSeventhSnake: You should show this replay in class, everyone will love it.]

[Triceratopssss: Ugh, not anytime soon. Are you entering a queue already or what? I want to see your Seraphim in action.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Alright alright.]

As a bonafide second-generation rich kid, TheSeventhSnake lived a comfortable life. He possessed decent looks, a wide circle of friends and did well in school. Other than the frequent absence of his overworked parents, he lacked nothing in his life.

Being a potentate was just the icing on the cake. His parents hired retired mech pilots to tutor him in piloting ever since the government revealed he was one of the 3.5%. Naturally, they didn't hope he make a career out of it. Just the status of reservist was enough to make the both of them crazy, since it offered many generous benefits in daily life, which included subsidies and priority access to universities. His parents even bought him a personalized mech simulator so he could play Iron Spirit at home.

Right now, the matchmaking finished finding an opponent for TheSeventhSnake. Curious, he checked his opponent's profile while the game loaded the battlefield.

[Player Profile]

Nickname: CassieTheFox

League: Bronze

Wins / Losses / Draws: 307 / 276 / 0

Equipped Mech: Orion Inc. Excelsior EE-26 (Stock)

Weight Classification: Heavy

"A girl, eh? The Excelsior is a tough nut to crack."

Many players ranked the Excelsior as one of the top 50 1-Star stock mechs in Iron Spirit. Its four heavy legs provided remarkable stability while its centaur-like torso boasted 20% more armor than a bipedal equivalent. What made the mech so infamous was that it had been crammed with energy weapons. It boasted enough lasers to tear anything in the air to shreds. Only the mech's slow speed, average target acquisition and terrible heat venting issues stopped it from reaching the top 10.

Lucky enough, the map selected by the game featured lots of canyons amid a desert environment. The Excelsior wouldn't be able to find a pool of water to assist it in venting any excessive heat.

Once the match started, TheSeventhSnake instantly engaged his Astoria wings and ascended the canyon, finally landing on top of a plateau with a commanding view. Though his flight had followed a jerky and unstable trajectory, it was nonetheless impressive that he maintained control of his mech despite flying the mech for the first time.

"Hm, the Astoria is a lot rougher than the flight systems I trained with. There's no stabilization."

Regular reservists only learned how to control a flying mech in their last years in class. TheSeventhSnake had a head start due receiving plenty of tutoring. Otherwise he wouldn't have been confident in purchasing and using the Seraphim in battle while his friend Triceratopssss spectated this match.

"You must be watching me, right? Let me give you a show then!"

The Fantasia 2R Seraphim extended its hair sensors in every direction as it engaged in active scanning. This revealed its position, but TheSeventhSnake didn't mind it as he knew the Excelsior couldn't reach this high up. After a few seconds, his radar displayed a new blip.

"So she's not even hiding. Good, saves me the trouble of combing the valleys."

CassieTheFox chose to make her stand in an open field with only a few cliffs and canyons nearby. Her choice reflected a desire to keep all angles clear so her lasers would have a clear line of fire. Her Excelsior's quadruple legs had already dug into the soil, increasing the mech's stability. CassieTheFox wanted to slug it out.

"I'm not afraid of you!" TheSeventhSnake roared as he lifted off and flew towards his opponent, toggling on the cloud generator in order to announce his passage.

The Excelsior had been caught off-guard by the majestic entrance. The Seraphim immediately opened fire, its DMR spitting out compressed energy bolts at a telling frequency. Some of them even landed glancing blows on the Excelsior despite the Seraphim's speedy flight.

The enemy pilot regained her composure upon getting his. She raised her Excelsior's arms and released a cascade of laser fire from its built-in barrels. The Seraphim's ECM helped muzzle the accuracy of the lasers, but the barrage of fire overwhelmed his awkward dodging.

"You annoying fly!" CassieTheFox screeched in the public channel. "It doesn't matter how many gimmicks you use, I'll still swat you down!"

"Try hitting me more than a couple times before you boast!"

The girl realized she was overreacting and calmed down, slowing her fire rate. Though it meant her chances of hitting the Seraphim went down, it also delayed the time when her mech grew too hot to continue firing lasers.

The battle between the two mechs progressed into a battle of attrition. The heavier mech relied on its prodigious armor to tank the DMR's punishing blows, while the Seraphim relied on its aerial superiority and ECM to avoid most of the lasers shot in its way. The Excelsior would be at a disadvantage once its heat had built up too much, but the Seraphim would also fall into trouble once its energy reserves ran out. Flying wasted a lot of energy.

The Seraphim constantly ejected energy packs from its chassis as TheSeventhSnake kept dodging in the air. The mech had painted half the sky with streaks of rainbow clouds, as if it was transforming the battlefield into a piece of heaven. All of that would stop once the Seraphim exhausted its energy. Without flight and a working rifle, the light mech was a sitting duck.

"It's so unfair to let heavy mechs fight against light ones. This really is the Seraphim's worst matchup."

Heavier mechs offered more space for armor, energy, cooling and weapons. They always won battles of attrition due to their higher overall capacity. The Seraphim would run out of energy long before the Excelsior could no longer handle the heat.

Something had to change.

He stopped firing his DMR and detached the energy feed before letting it drop. Instead, he retrieved the combat knife from its holster and held it with both hands. The Seraphim flipped in the air and proceeded to accelerate downward, knife slicing the air as it thrust the weapon forward.

"Are you crazy?!" CassieTheFox asked in surprise, though she was whooping in joy as she narrowed her firing angle.

Now that the Seraphim dove towards her Excelsior, it became a lot easier to hit. Several beams of superheated light landed upon the slimmer mech's head, ruining both the ECM and aim assist. This made it easier for her to land her shots. However, most of the lasers hitting the torso seemed to burn only redundant armor. Only the hits against the wings of the flight system achieved some real damage.

Fortunately, the Seraphim pretty much relied on momentum to dive downwards, so the loss in downward thrust hardly affected the mech by now. Its cloud generator kept pumping out a colorful stream of vapor, making it seem as if the falling Seraphim was the embodiment of God's punishment.

The distance between the two mechs closed rapidly, and just before the two mechs collided, both pilots moved.

The Excelsior wasn't stupid to just stand there and take the hit. CassieTheFox redirected her emergency power towards the Excelsiors legs, allowing it to jump to the side with a surprising spring.

The Seraphim already anticipated such a move. With only a hundred meters to go, the feminine mech made another aerial flip, adjusting its fall along the enemy's trajectory while pointing the mech's heels downwards.

The two collided in a massive crash with an impact that echoed across the canyon walls. Triceratopsss, who had been spectating to the side with rapt attention, could not even distinguish whether the Seraphim's suicide bombing had succeeded. Smoke, flame and colorful smoke engulfed the crash site, making it unclear if anything was still left intact.

"Damnit, who won?"

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[Winner: CassieTheFox.]

"I... lost."

TheSeventhSnake sat back in his chair, exhausted even though he had been playing a simulation. The desperate dodging, the careful shots, that impulsive dive at the end. The high-intensity action echoed with his heart.

He did not even begrudge his loss to CassieTheFox. That final dive had been an attack that would have resulted in a Pyrrhic victory at best. Fighting in a way that killed 1000 men while losing 800 might be fine in Iron Spirit where repairs were cheap and fast. In the real universe, such a reckless action was a good way to find yourself into a coffin or retired to a desk job.

[Triceratopssss: THAT WAS AMAZING! :O]

[TheSeventhSnake: I know. I'm going to pay for it in repairs.]

[Triceratopssss: Man, you really should have won. That dive was so brilliant, especially the way you contorted your mech at the last moment.]

[TheSeventhSnake: Nah, I deserve that loss. I was too caught up in the moment to realize the Fantasia's legs couldn't possibly penetrate the shell of an Excelsior.]

For all his practice sessions, he still lacked the maturity and experience of an actual pilot. He was still young, so he could afford to make those kinds of mistakes.

[Triceratopssss: So how was the Seraphim? Do you regret buying it?]

[TheSeventhSnake: It's definitely worth it, though I can't say the same for everyone. It has a very uneven performance. As long as you have enough energy, it's great, but if you run out, you're dead. I have a feeling I'm not going to be finished performing diving attacks.]

[Triceratopssss: Yeah it would suck if you have to face off against a heavy mech again. They could just tire you out. So how does it compare to your other flight mechs?]

[TheSeventhSnake: The firepower isn't the best. It's fast and agile, but it came at a cost to armor and endurance. It's the perfect long-ranged harasser, but there's other mechs that can do the same job a little better. Still I like this mech. Its really beautiful and I love the cloud generator. It makes me want to pilot this mech all day.]

[Triceratopssss: Do you mind if I share the replay with the others?]

[TheSeventhSnake: Haha sure. Do what you want.]

While TheSeventhSnake dove back into the arena, Triceratopssss sent the replay to his friends with a note to check out the new variant. Not everyone watched it, as a lot of them were not in the game or weren't interested. Those that did found the Seraphim to be a very impressive looking variant of the old Fantasia. Only when they searched for the mech in the market place did they receive a fright. Some of them even left disparaging comments in the mech's store page.

"8800 gold a piece? I don't even earn that much in a year!"

"Whoever pays 3300 credits for this underspecced mech is an idiot."

"Fucking get your brain checked you greedy price gouger!"

"This mech is too sexist! There's no reason at all enlarge its front chest. Mechs don't wear bras!"

Some of these potentates forwarded the replay to their other friends and mentioned the Seraphim's price. This caused a further ripple in admiration over the mech's beauty and scorn over its price. In the end, the sensation died down and nobody took the plunge to purchase the mech.

In the meantime, TheSeventhSnake kept throwing himself into solo matches. He achieved a record of twelve wins and five losses so far, an impressive ratio, but nothing to boast about. Very few flying mechs appeared in the Bronze League, so some pilots went into battle without carrying ranged weapons. These hot-blooded youths who wanted to get right into the opponent's face could only cry as the Seraphim gracefully drew a rainbow in the air while pelting them with energy bolts.

Only snipers and heavy mechs posed a threat to him. Their advantage in firepower or armor was so decisive that they had the Seraphim in the palm of their hands.

The next match proved to be the most exciting one of the day for TheSeventhSnake. His opponent surprisingly piloted another flying mech.

[Player Profile]

Nickname: Dire_Wolf

League: Bronze

Wins / Losses / Draws: 524 / 360 / 3

Equipped Mech: Lost Constellations Model VF-5 (Custom)

Weight Classification: Medium

"Damn, this is a scary opponent. What is up with that insane win ratio. I've never seen a ratio that high in the Bronze League."

TheSevenSnake was sweating in his seat. The Mech model also caused him to raise his vigilance. The Lost Constellations company was one of the more mysterious mech manufacturers even way back then at the start of the Age of Mechs. They adhered to a different design philosophy and were the first to introduce animal-shaped mechs in the battlefield.

The famed Model VF had been designed like a vulture. It traded speed for power and endurance. Though slow to catch up to any light mechs, it pumped out powerful shells from its cannons that could even shred heavy armor as long as it fired long enough. Though its ammunition was prone to run in extended battles, the Model VF was still able to pose a threat in melee range with its powerful reinforced claw and beak attacks.

The VF-5 his opponent piloted was undoubtedly a customized variant. Anything could be different from its stock model. TheSeventhSnake had no way of guessing what his opponent preferred, and simply reserved his judgment.

The battlefield finally loaded, revealing an empty urban environment. The map consisted entirely of a densely packed downtown city. Metal skyscrapers blocked the views of both players while also diminishing the effectiveness of their sensors.

"I could get ambushed easily by the VF if I blunder around. It's best to wait for my opponent to come to me." TheSeventhSnake deduced.

He chose to ascend straight up and chose a random, mid-sized skyscraper to land upon. The roof offered plenty of space but very little cover. The Seraphim turned off its wings before extending its hair sensors.

This time TheSeventhSnake maintained a passive scan. Essentially he just extended his mech's ears and hoped to catch a sound made by the enemy. This time he wanted to get a drop on his enemy. If he could take the time to make his first shot, he might be able to cripple the VF's wings.

He stayed patient as five minutes passed. The time limit for a solo battle was 30 minutes so he had plenty of time to spare. He was prepared to stand there and wait 25 minutes if necessary. He really couldn't relax against an opponent with such an impressive win record.

The sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he continued waiting patiently. The alarm at the thirteenth minute almost threw him off the seat.

"Finally, you moved."

The Seraphim retracted its sensors, turned around and carefully approached the edge of the roof in the direction of the opponent. He spotted the VF-5 hovering at a generous pace, reserving its speed but making sure to keep up a juking pattern in its flight.

"He's trying to draw me out. And he doesn't know my Fantasia is sporting a flight system."

The enemy was aware the Fantasia boasted a considerable sensor range. Instead of fruitlessly trying to search the Seraphim, he instead flew around seemingly lazily. The VF-5's flight appeared slow, but it held considerable power in reserves. The VF-5 hid a number of short-range boosters underneath its wings to assist with dodging and carrying out swooping attacks.

TheSeventhSnake chose to take his time to aim. His sensors had detected the VF-5 a fair distance away. Together with all the sensor pollution the crowded urban environment offered, he had a 90% certainty the enemy hadn't spotted him yet. The Seraphim's Red Eye module shone a little brighter as it locked on to the VF-5's left cannon, just underneath its wing.

Since he hadn't received any sniper training, TheSeventhSnake fired upon the moment he felt a buzz.

The energy bolt that left the DMR's barrel soared through the air in a rapid flight towards the vulture-like mech. The VF-5, perhaps caught off-guard by the projectile's unexpected angle, reacted too late.

The wing and the barrel of its left cannon took a glancing blow. It resulted in minor damage to the VF-5's flight systems but the damage the barrel sustained made the weapon inoperable.

Dire_Wolf seemed to be enraged as the VF-5 opened its beak to let out a piercing scream. This sound wave disrupted Seraphim's lock on the vulture-like mech, causing him to miss his follow-up shots.

The VF-5 explosively activated all of its boosters, ascending quickly towards the Seraphim. TheSeventhSnake abandoned his position and took to the skies himself. The Seraphim widened the distance while continuing to fire back at the enraged vulture.

The VF-5 could only helplessly dodge the shots while trying to keep up. It excelled at bullying ground mechs by shredding them with its powerful cannons, but with one already disabled and the other firing out of its effective range, the vulture performed rather poorly. Only its secondary machine guns achieved consistent hits, but their caliber was so small that even the Fantasia could tank a few bullets as long as they didn't land in the same location.

However, it somehow suffered only glancing blows on its chassis so far. TheSeventhSnake kept trying to hit the VF-5's essential systems, such as its wings or its engine, but only managed to clip armor or negligible systems.

"This bastard's dodging pattern is strange." TheSeventhSnake grew more suspicious as his shots kept leading away from where he wanted them to go. "I got it. He's fooling my aim assist!"

The early versions of aim assistance were easy to fool. Certain movement patterns easily led its internal computers to overcompensate its aim in a faulty direction. This wasn't easy to accomplish in practice. It took an unusually avid mech pilot to even be aware of this solution.

In any case, now that he knew what was wrong, he disabled the Red Eye. This pretty much had an immediate impact on his DMR's accuracy. His shots spread much wider now, sometimes missing the vulture by thirty meters even. He couldn't help it. Firing a rifle in midair was hard enough. Travelling swiftly while trying to dodge the vulture's return fire only added to the instability.

Nevertheless, the almost perfectly random distribution of shots threw the vulture off-guard for a second time. Since even the Seraphim's pilot couldn't predict where his shots landed, his opponent could forget about figuring out a pattern.

The exchange continued on for a handful of minutes. The VF-5 appeared miserable as its chassis sported a lot of scorch marks and ran low on ammunition. It succeeded in preserving its important systems, only suffering major damage to its massive wings. The vulture was built to be robust among the fliers, so even if it lost half its wings, it still maintained its capability to stay afloat.

The Seraphim on the other hand survived the sporadic barrage of solid projectiles with a few dents. It suffered an unlucky hit at the end when a cannon shell managed to hit the rifle. The impact and subsequent explosion irretrievably wrecked the weapon, leaving the lightly armed Seraphim without a ranged weapon.

"Just as well. I only have a third of my energy left."

Both sides knew it this match would be decided up close. The Seraphim ceased running, turned around and approached the VF-5 cautiously while unsheathing its combat knife. The rainbow cloud spurting from its rear gave the angelic mech a majestic appearance, as if it was a queen that claimed the skies as its domain.

The VF-5 let out an indignant cry from its beak as it accelerated in a sudden fashion, eager to challenge the interloper. While its half-wrecked wings reduced the power of its flight, its plentiful thrusters still provided a substantial amount of explosive acceleration. The vulture flew out with its sharp and menacing claws stretched out. The force of its approach enough to wreck any Fantasia-based chassis in a head-on collision.

TheSeventhSnake flitted to the side and used his superior agility in the air to keep his mech safe. He swiped the VF-5 with his combat knife, scoring occasional hits but unable to deal any critical damage. The cloud generator spurted out so many colorful clouds that the streets were almost completely obscured. This didn't affect either mech's performance, as they both switched to alternate vision modes that could easily see through the clouds of vapor.

Somehow the VF-5's pilot managed to orient his mech in a way that presented its most armored portion towards the Seraphim. This let the VF-5 use its abundant armor to block the small knife.

If the Seraphim's arms possessed more power and carried a better weapon, then it would have carved the VF-5 apart by now. Instead, it had to dodge the VF-5's fatal claw strikes with every approach, suffering a few glancing blows in return, one of which simply sheared off both its legs at the knees.

TheSeventhSnake felt constricted, and as his energy reserves fell to the last 10%, he again staked odds to a final blow. He stopped dodging sideways and flew towards the VF-5 head-on. The vulture noted the change in strategy and extended its claws and its beak in anticipation.

At the last moment, the Seraphim chose to dodge to the bottom right, straight at one of the VF-5's claws. The reinforced limb tore through the Seraphim's thin armor plating. The angelic mech's head crunched loose while its torso had been sliced half-way through, disabling countless essential systems.

The VF-5 suffered catastrophic damage in return. The Seraphim's combat knife sunk deep in its chest armor, and while it suffered little damage so far, the close-ranged strike possessed enough momentum to carve through its plates. Red liquid leaked out of the gaps.

The Seraphim had succeeded in piercing the cockpit with its last gambit. Both mechs lost their propulsion and fell.

[Winner: TheSeventhSnake.]

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Ves' face soured as his eyes skimmed through his analytics page in Iron Spirit.

"Really, what am I paying so much crap for? I thought advertisements are supposed to work!"

He only had twenty days left to complete the System's mission of selling a hundred virtual mechs. So far, Ves only managed to sell his handcrafted Fantasia 2R Seraphim. That meant the other mechs he sold lacked his personal care and attention. Not only did their specs degrade, they also sold for twice its already ludicrous price.

When Ves visited the Seraphim's store page, he encountered hundreds of disparaging comments.

"8800 gold XD! Do you lack a few brain cells? Are you autistic? Then go ahead and buy this gold-plated piece of turd!"

"Can anyone lend me 8700 gold? I promise to pay you back once I dominate the arena. No one can withstand my secret weapon of crapping rainbows!"

"DON'T BUY THIS MECH! This is an over-engineered piece of shit that simply slaps a lot of extra parts together. Just buy a real flying mech instead!"

With comments like these splattered over his mech, no wonder he couldn't make an additional sale. Ves had learned a valuable but expensive lesson with this experience.

"I lost sight of my target audience. I thought I could have slapped a lot of components together without consequence. But the Bronze Leaguers are mostly a bunch of kids with little gold and credits to spare."

1-Star Mechs acted as training wheels in the game. As training tools, most potentates didn't bother to make an emotional connection to the mechs they piloted, considering them to be horribly outdated. The Bronze Leaguers paid more attention to the amount of performance they could squeeze at a given price.

It was a good thing he hadn't spent the rest of his time in vain. Other than stuffing Lucky with ores, he also extensively reworked the Fantasia 2R into a new variant. It had been his most major project to date, flexing all of his new skills to his limit, especially the Light Armor Optimization sub-skill.

The new Fantasia variant sported complete matte gray armor plating. Ves had painstakingly removed its original armor plating and replaced them with the newer and more efficient Mirin-21 Ultralight Armor Plating. To retain and even improve the mech's durability, Ves had to recalculate every plate's profile and thickness, bulking up the mech in many areas. Despite the increase in armor, the mech's weight still enjoyed a considerable reduction, making it faster and nimbler on the ground.

Ves felt highly satisfied with his work so far. He appreciated the miraculous powers of the System for allowing him to get accustomed to such amazing procedures in a matter of days instead of months.

In a good mood and prompted by his rich creativity, he even added in the Fayette ECM and the Festive Cloud Generator onto the custom mech's head. In keeping up with a ghost theme, he set the clouds to generate only greyscale colors, nicknaming the mech the Phantasm.

[Design Evaluation: Fantasia 2R Phantasm.]

Variant name: Fantasia 2R Phantasm

Base model: Fantasia 2R

Original Manufacturer: Kezia Armaments

Weight Classification: Light

Recommended Role: Scout/Ambusher

Armor: C-

Carrying Capacity: F

Aesthetics: B

Endurance: D

Energy Efficiency: D

Flexibility: C

Firepower: D-

Integrity: C

Mobility: B

Spotting: B

X-Factor: None

Deviance: 8%

Performance improvement: 11%

Overall evaluation:

[You have received 50 Design Points for completing an original design with a performance improvement of over 10%.]

[Your have been rewarded with a lottery ticket for achieving superior performance improvement with minimal deviance.]

Ves widened his eyes at the second message. The System evaluated his custom work to the same standards as the industry, which made sense now that he thought about it. He had learned this in college but forgot about it when he grew delusional from possessing the System.

Overenthusiastic designers who pumped in a lot of resources into a mech and only achieved a couple of percent improvement over the stock model were regarded as trash.

On the other hand, designers who changed only a few things here and there and can still achieve an improvement of over a dozen percent were regarded as masters in their field.

Ves had gained the System's approval with the Phantasm's economical design. With three cheap components, he partially re-engineered the old Fantasia 2R's frame into a stealthy predator. The Phantasm could do everything the stock model was capable of, but just a little better.

The real star of the show was Ves' tedious swapping of its armor. The Mirin-21 might have offered less protection, but it weighed a lot lighter. Padding the Fantasia with additional form-fitting plates offered better protection but still managed to achieve an overall weight reduction. Not every newly graduated mech designer could accomplish the same. Without cutting down redundant and inefficient sections while making sure their spots remained somewhat covered, Ves could never have improved the armor so effectively.

And now he held another lottery ticket. Like an eager kid with candy, Ves quickly switched to the Lottery page and spun the metaphorical wheel.

"Come on, give me something good, like a production license or a bag of credits."

[You have received a Strength Candy.]

[Strength Candy]

Increases Strength by 0.1 upon consumption. Strawberry flavor.

Ves fell on his knees and let out a frustrated scream. "C'mon System! I worked so hard the last few days! Why don't you throw me a bone or two?"

He felt like a wizard who decided to pump some iron in the gym. Developing his muscles was an unnecessary luxury that provided little help in his predicament.

Well, since he received it, he might as well use it. After popping the gift in his mouth, he checked his status again.

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 113

Attributes

Strength: 0.7

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 1

Concentration: 1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice - [3D Printer Proficiency I]

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice - [Jury Rigging I] [Speed Tuning I]

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice - [Lightweight Armor Optimization I]

Evaluation: Should pursue a career in designing space shuttles.

He hardly felt the increase in strength, but after looking at the other benefits the System had brought, he felt pretty content. The System might not think highly of Ves right now, but he knew it could change in the future.

"After I complete two good designs, I will have enough DP to buy a new sub-skill."

The past week, Ves benefited a lot from the sub-skills he had already bought. Even though they offered the lowest tier of knowledge, they vastly improved his existing competencies and sharpened his instincts.

He currently considered whether to buy additional sub-skills, or begin upgrading his existing ones. One would widen his base of knowledge and the other one would deepen it. Neither of the choices were wrong, so Ves had a hard time making a decision.

The doorbell rang, interrupting Ves' introspection. He wasn't expecting any visitors, nor did he order something to be delivered. Curious, Ves activated the front door's camera.

"Hey Vessie? Are you in? It's me, your cousin!"

"Melinda!" Ves exclaimed. He jogged over to the front of the workshop and met his cousin with a hug. "Long time no see!"

"No thanks to you, little Vessie." Melinda smiled as she ruffled her younger relative's hair. "I see you changed your digs. It looks very.. ehh.."

"Small? I know it doesn't look impressive, but I'm stuck with it so I might as well make it my home."

The two entered the workshop's small living apartment and sat down on a beaten-up sofa. Lucky, who had been happily napping in the middle, meowed with indignation as he was pushed to the side.

"Oh, its so cute!" Melinda gushed as she picked up the cat. "What's its name?"

"I call him Lucky. I'm counting on him to turn my life around." Ves responded, then sighed. "I know you didn't come because you missed me. Tell me what the family wants."

The Larkinsons had been an established family of mech pilots for at least 200 years. Though they lacked wealth and a deeper foundation in the circles of power, they managed to firmly root themselves in the military. Together with dozens of other families, they constituted the Bright Republic's unofficial military aristocracy.

"Grandpa's been busy at headquarters, so he couldn't spare much time searching for what happened with your dad. With his resources, the only thing he managed to figure out was that it wasn't related to the Mech Corps."

Talk about Ves' missing dad lowered his mood. He tightened his fist. "I don't know where dad ended up, but I'm sure he's still alive."

"We all hope so, Vessie. But life has to go on. We can't put our lives on pause. Your aunts and uncles are quite worried about the debt your dad accrued in order to afford all of.. this. It's too extravagant. They think you're still 20 years too young to take up the responsibility to run your own mech business."

"So they disapprove huh?"

"They only want what's best for you." Melinda replied as she put her hand on his shoulder. "You can still turn around and give up the assets to the bank. With your qualifications, my dad can fast-track you into the Mech Corps as a technician. You'll be able to get loads of hands-on experience repairing and modifying next generation military mechs. Your job prospects will improve a lot once you've got a couple of tours of service under your belt."

Ves shook his head. "It sounds safe, but it's too slow for me. I want to make a name for myself as a mech designer, not a technician or repairman. Most star designers start their career young."

"That doesn't mean you have to follow their footsteps. Without a formidable background like wealth or connections, you don't possess the qualifications to enter a cutthroat business like selling mechs."

He wanted to tell Melinda that she was wrong. Ves did enjoy a background advantage. His father's Mech Designer System had given him a lot of help and could be counted on to help him find his footing in the business. But he couldn't mention it to his cousin. The System was strange and unique, and Ves might lose his life if others wanted to rob this advantage.

"Melinda, I understand where you're coming from, but I chose to shoulder the risks. This is my father's legacy, after all. He gave up his home, his savings and even his personal mech to scrounge up the loans to fund this little workshop. At worst, I'll just be declared bankrupt and the assets will get taken away a little later. It's not shameful for an entrepreneur to suffer a bankruptcy. At least I'll be content to know I tried."

His cousin sighed, but didn't press on. "I thought you'd choose to do so. I guess the only thing I can bring back to the family is to tell them about your resolve. Grandpa also told me that if you decided to stay this course, he'll lean on the bank to make sure they don't pull any dirty tricks."

"Thanks. It helps out a lot if I don't have to worry about the bank changing its terms. I'm confident I can work this out on my own. I already have some plans in the works."

"Oh? Can you show me some of your work?"

Ves brought his cousin to the working area of the shop. He activated the terminal and logged into his Iron Spirit designer account.

"I've been trying to make a name for myself as a designer in the game. I've made a deal with... eh, I can't say who. I only need to do well and sell enough virtual mechs to receive some additional start-up resources for my real business. Let me show you my two latest designs."

The Seraphim awed his cousin for its graceful appearance. She grinned and pinched Ves' cheek.

"So you started to fiddle with the Fantasia, huh? Do you need me to introduce you to some ladies I know?"

"Melindaaaaa! I'm not a kid anymore. So other than its gender, tell me what you think about my mech."

"Hm, The Seraphim showcases your fundamentals. You've impressed me with how decently you incorporated all of the components together. While I'm not too familiar with the Fantasia chassis anymore, I'm sure it performs decently in the air. It's just.."

"Yeah, I know. It costs a fortune for a 1-Star light mech."

"At least your Phantasm looks impressive." Melinda commented as she browsed through the specs sheet. "I'm not a technician, but even I can see you've worked hard reworking its armor. This is really solid work. If I was still in Bronze I'd definitely give it a spin."

"What's your current league?"

"I've been in Platinum for a while. I can break into Diamond if I work hard."

"Heavens."

Reaching Diamond rank at her age would be an impressive feat. Only freaks of nature and nurtured aristocratic elites could boast such an accomplishment. Sometimes Ves felt that his mech piloting talent had gone over to Melinda. The universe wasn't fair sometimes.

Melinda noticed Ves' expression and flicked his forehead. "Hey, no need for those thoughts. You might not have inherited all of your father's genes, but you definitely have his heart. Besides, Iron Spirit is just a game. Many of my colleagues in the Bentheim Planetary Guard don't even take it seriously. When you make a living piloting and fighting with the real thing, a game just feels too fake."

Nodding, Ves agreed with her words. "I know. Designing mechs in Iron Spirit is just a springboard for my real universe business. If I manage to achieve enough sales, I can receive a grant of some sorts."

"I'll be sure to recommend your models to the munchkins back home." Melinda smiled as she thought of pinching the faces of her cute little nieces and nephews.

The Larkinsons weren't exactly unified like real aristocratic families, but they kept in touch even as they spread out over many planets in the Republic. The younger generation often met up and played together, if not in person then in Iron Spirit.

Being left out of many of these circles due to lacking the aptitude to pilot a mech had distances Ves a little from the peers of his age. Melinda was one of the few who kept a proactive friendship with him. It was times like these when he faced some difficulties did Ves realize how much family meant to him. A warm feeling embraced his heart and he gave his cousin another hug.

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After a hearty talk, Melinda had to leave in order to catch her flight back to Bentheim. As Ves accompanied her to the door, she turned around and bumped her communicator with his wrist.

"What's this?" Ves asked as he activated his comm. It unfolded into a brochure.

"It's the Young Tigers Exhibition."

"Isn't it a competition for younger mech pilots to showcase their skills? I hear the Mech Corps and the local mercenary corps organize this event to recruit outstanding pilots."

The Bright Republic publicized the YTE every year. It had practically turned into a national holiday. His father even brought him to an event when he was little. Before he found out his aptitude made piloting mechs an unreachable dream.

"That was ten years ago." Melinda said and reached over and tapped the brochure, flipping it over to the next page. "In recent years they expanded the program to include a mech designer contest. It's not as thrilling as the mech battles, but the Mech Corps and a few big players pay a lot of attention to the people who do well in the contest."

"I see." Ves nodded as he read through the brochure. "It's conveniently open to mech designers who have just graduated or are in their final years in college. I guess the Republic wants to make sure it hasn't missed any talents."

"You should check out the rewards."

Ves did, and widened his eyes.

1st Prize - Gold Cup, 1 million bright credits

2nd Prize - Silver Cup, 500,000 bright credits

3rd Prize - Bronze Cup, 200,000 bright credits

If he won first prize, then even if he couldn't meet the interest payment, he could at least afford other necessities. The raw materials to build up a mech didn't come cheap.

"These aren't even the real rewards, Ves. If you stand out during the competition, you might be able to get an audience with the real movers and shakers of the mech business. You can get job offers and commissions if they like your style."

Ves smiled ruefully when he heard those words. "The bigwigs probably aren't interested in a small businessman like me. I'm not one of those geniuses with fancy degrees from Mars or Estelon."

Mars was the technological capital of the Greater United Terran Confederation, the oldest and most prestigious human superpower. Estelon was a hub of high tech mech companies and stellar universities of the New Rubarth Empire, the most militarily dominant human state.

"Most of those geniuses already have their future careers lined up, probably with one of the Galactic 500." Melinda responded with a scowl. "When they come back to visit sometimes, I sometimes wonder if I'm talking to a Terran or Rubarthan. It's like they forgot their roots."

"The Republic is a third-tier power, after all." Ves lamented, not entirely sincerely. He loved his home country and its high living standards. There were benefits to loving in a peaceful backwater. "Our nextgen mechs are probably considered lastgen by the first-tier superpowers."

Those destined for greatness couldn't be contained by the small Bright Republic. Ves knew it was no use to feel jealous about those endowed with great opportunities. It all came down to strength! If Ves failed to win the first prize, then he just wasn't cut out for it. With the System backing him up, he might not excel in anything now, but it could be a different story a decade later.

He waved his cousin goodbye and returned to his terminal. He re-read the brochure for the YTE and registered for the competition after making sure he met all the requirements.

"Good thing the YTE starts in two months. I'm not confident of winning anything in my current state. Hopefully it'll be different when time passes."

Ves went back to work. He logged into Iron Spirit and put in the hours to craft the Phantasm in his virtual workshop. Seeing each component roll out of the 3D Printer and place them in the appropriate place helped him understand his creation further. When he finished the assembly and tested its specs, he put the new variant on sale.

[Fantasia 2R Phantasm]

Tier: 1-star

Base Model: Fantasia 2R

Purchase Price: 3600 gold (-50%)

Premium Price: 750 bright credits

Comparing the new Phantasm to his earlier Seraphim showed a stark contrast in price levels.

[Fantasia 2R Seraphim]

Tier: 1-star

Base Model: Fantasia 2R

Purchase Price: 8800 gold

Premium Price: 3300 bright credits

His handcrafted Phantasm only sold for 1800 gold, which represented a great deal. The next models after his first Phantasm would be fabricated automatically, leading to a slight reduction in quality and a doubling of prices. Still, at 3600 gold a customer would not be disappointed at the Phantasm's performance.

After Ves proudly put his mech on the market, he visited the usual mech enthusiast boards on the galactic net and boasted shamelessly about the Phantasm. Not every mech designer chose to create a variant with a re-imagined armor configuration. At the very least, Ves hadn't found any other Fantasia variant on the market with a full-body Mirin-21 armor replacement.

A few days passed by. Nothing else changed except occasionally picking up Lucky's gems. The benefits it provided remained minor as ever, but Ves still remained optimistic. Once his cash flow improved, he planned to buy a few exotic minerals and find out of Lucky was worth his Gold classification.

Ves worked on a fourth Fantasia variant these days, this time focusing on endurance and energy efficiency. He wanted to design a model that lasted longer and could run over long distances without negatively affecting its performance in battle.

Though it emphasized different demands, Ves could still copy most of his work on the Phantasm to save time. After all, the Phantasm really presented a total baseline improvement over the original Fantasia 2R.

In the meantime, Ves' store page started to receive some views. Surprisingly, a repeat customer bought his handcrafted Phantasm. TheSeventhSnake had also bought Ves' handmade Seraphim. Perhaps TheSeventhSnake could be called a fan.

Then came the younger generation of the Larkinsons. While most only intended to give their big sister Melinda face by take a look, some of them grew enchanted by the Seraphim's regal grace or the Phantasm's dark elegance.

One rich nephew impulsively bought the Seraphim with credits, wasting three months of his personal savings. A couple of other nephews and nieces purchased the Phantasm, recognizing its superior performance as an ambush predator. A few even bought the 2R-E as a joke, intending to surprise their friends with the model's ultimate move.

Thus Ves achieved 23 sales this week. Together with the original Seraphim, he achieved 24 sales in total, almost overcoming one-fourth of his mission goal.

Only when Ves finished his latest customization did he log back in to check out his store page. His eyes widened with satisfaction as he realized Melinda had given him some much needed help.

The Phantasm sold well enough at the start, but its sales tapered off as no one else seemed to be interested as only an occasional customer would come and buy. They must have been defeated by the Phantasm in a match.

Together with the 50 Design Points Ves received from developing his latest design, he gained a total of 73 DP. He only needed a little more than a dozen mechs to accumulate 200 DP. Once he reached that point, he could treat himself to something good from the System's Skill Tree or Store.

He uploaded his newest work in Iron Spirit, and again he painstakingly built up its first model by hand. Just like when he fabricated the Phantasm, he felt a deeper connection with the Fantasia chassis by being involved in every step of the way. Once the model had been built up, Ves immediately chose to put it on sale.

[Fantasia 2R Nomad]

Tier: 1-star

Base Model: Fantasia 2R

Purchase Price: 3400 gold (-50%)

Premium Price: 700 bright credits

The Nomad weighed more than the Phantasm, courtesy of its extra energy packs and armor plates. The Nomad nonetheless came without the other model's Fayette ECM and Festive Cloud Generator modules, which ultimately resulted in a lower price. Ves judged the Nomad's performance wasn't shabby, but it lacked a certain wow-factor the previous two variants possessed.

"I'm starting to run out of ideas. I don't think I can force myself to pump out another Fantasia variant again without purchasing new parts, which I can't afford."

With only half a month left to go, Ves needed to do something about the mission the System gave him. The Nomad's introduction to the market might help progress his sales, but he doubted he could achieve a hundred sales before the deadline passed.

"I need to go out and push my mechs in person."

Frankly, Ves was too poor to afford a more sophisticated solution. While he gained a healthy amount of credits from the sale of his virtual mechs, he needed to reserve the capital for his mech boutique's future operations. Besides, his previous ad purchase in Iron Spirit had been like a drop in the ocean.

Ves dug into the assorted pile of junk the workshop stored in its backyard, managing to scavenge a broken, window-sized holographic picture frame. With his technical skills, it was a cinch to restore it. He fixed it up and also welded a lengthy pole underneath its frame.

Once it worked, Ves loaded all of his mech designs in the picture frame's memory. After a quick thought, he also added in some footage copied from some public replays featuring his mechs winning. Naturally he ignored the matches where his mechs lost miserably.

Ready to go out, Ves took the board and called for an aircab.

"Hey Lucky, you wanna go out and take a look downtown?"

Once his transportation arrived, he took a leisurely trip to the downtown area of Rodrigo's Rest. Having lived in the suburbs for much of his life, Ves was more than familiar with its streets. He knew where all the kids hung out after being released from school. He arrived at the local gaming center and took a spot next to the other people holding their boards ready.

Lucky meanwhile jumped about here and there, exploring the trees and lantern posts in perplexed curiosity. Ves wasn't worried he'd run off, so he let his pet explore to his heart's content.

"You new here?" A grungy guy looking like he needed a couple showers asked.

"Yeah."

"Why're you here?"

"What else? I have to sell my product urgently." Ves helplessly confessed. "Anything I should know? The Dos and Don'ts?"

Grunge head mentioned a few short tips. "Above all else, don't annoy the managers. They want kids to come in and out without any hassle."

The two along with the others waited patiently for the kids to come out of school. Once the first eager teenagers arrived, Ves went to work.

"Do you need a new mech that's swifter and lasts longer? Then I've got a mech for you!"

Naturally, most potentates ignored the people soliciting their products. Only a couple of young pilots spared a glance, but their eyes only stayed focused for a second or two before they entered the game center.

Standing for hours at a time holding an animated board tired Ves out. He gritted his teeth and carried on with his work to push his mechs into the minds of the visiting players.

Things changed once Lucky returned. The cat evidently had his fill of exploring the environment. It effortlessly jumped on top of a trash can near Ves and rested languidly atop its cover like a king surveying his serfs.

The cat's fine workmanship and agreeable expression attracted a few girls.

"So cute!!"

"Can I pet it?"

"It's such a big baby!"

Lucky appeared overwhelmed, but Ves put a hand on its neck to calm him down. "Please don't press against my cat. He's young and hasn't been out very much."

After realizing the young women weren't out to hurt him, Lucky meowed and stared at them with his shiny eyes.

"So adorable!! Let me take a picture with him!"

"I love his liveliness. It's even better than the dog I have back home. Did you build him yourself?"

Ves coughed awkwardly and shamelessly answered, "I was involved in its creation, yes. Lucky is unique and isn't for sale, but if you're interested in my other creations, how about you take a look at my Phantasm?"

As groups of squealing girls tried to pet and take pictures with Lucky, Ves allowed them to do so as long as they behaved. The cat seemed to lap up all of the attention, as if he was making it up for the times when Ves appeared too preoccupied with his work to play with his pet. Nonetheless, the steady stream of girls allowed Ves to conveniently insert a few mentions of his products.

"Be sure to search for the Fantasia 2R Phantasm when you visit the in-game market! It's the perfect mech if you want to look good while kicking your friend's ass."

Maybe 99 out of a 100 girls paid zero attention to Ves' words. If the one girl who actually paid attention visited his store page, then Ves felt his hard work was worth the trouble.

Surprisingly, his increased strength allowed him to stand on the sidewalk and last a little bit longer. Holding the picture frame up tired him a little less than he expected. His physical strength also translated into mental strength in a way Ves couldn't really figure out. He felt the effects anyway. This made him reconsider the utility in upgrading his other 'useless' attributes.

"Maybe upgrading my dexterity will make my thoughts nimbler, and upgrading my endurance will increase my willpower. The System isn't what it seems in the first place. There's a lot depth to it and I've only dipped my toes so far."

After the sun started to dip down below Cloudy Curtain's horizon, Ves called it a day. He ate a quick meal at a local restaurant and took a shuttle ride home. Sinking tiredly into his sofa, Ves activated the System and checked his progress.

[Mission Progress: 35/100 sales.]

He sold twelve mechs today. If his sales kept up the same pace, then he'd definitely accomplish the mission within a week. He also accumulated 198 DP. With just a few more sales, he'd reach the threshold of 200 DP, opening up a lot of options in the System's Shop and Skill Tree.

Though other mech designers might scoff at Ves' pathetic street peddling, all of his hard work had paid off for him personally.

Naturally, Lucky contributed much to his success. He picked up the sleepy cat and stroked his muzzle.

"You've done a good job acting cute. I'll order a few treats and have it delivered tomorrow."

Lucky meowed in contentment.

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Ves kept up his sales routine for a week. He visited different cities each day in order to maximize his exposure. Lucky always accompanied him, and with the help of his charm he managed to draw enough attention to his products to sell a hundred mechs with less than two weeks to spare.

He also accumulated a hefty 263 Design Points, but hadn't spent them yet. He thought it would be better if he received his next mission first.

[Congratulations for completing Tutorial: Part 3.]

[You have received a 10-year combat mech production license lottery ticket. Please visit the Lottery page to redeem this ticket.]

[For completing the mission with time to spare, you have been awarded a bonus lottery ticket.]

The System sure loved lotteries, giving Ves a bad feeling. His luck with the lottery so far had been mixed.

"Hey System, shouldn't you have sent me another mission by now?"

[Please do not get addicted to missions. The Mech Designer System only offers missions in order to guide its users to the right path. Only babies require constant hand-holding. Are you a baby?]

Ves practically spat blood. "Who's the baby?! You are a baby!"

In fact, Ves felt rather terrible after hearing those words. He had indeed grown accustomed to the System's guidance. Now that he lacked a clear mission to strive towards, Ves felt as if he was adrift.

"No, that's not right. I still have to prepare for the Young Tigers Exhibition that start in one-and-a-half months. I also have to make progress in collecting 5 million credits to pay off my interest in two months."

In other words, he needed to advance his skills and earn a lot of money. Ves could work on that without the System generating another tutorial to tell him how to accomplish those goals.

"Too bad I can't earn any more completion rewards. That reminds me, I still need to use up last mission's rewards."

Rubbing his palms, Ves turned to the Lottery page. He ignored the option to spend DP for a lottery draw and instead selected the option to use the tickets on hand.

First, he activated his bonus ticket. Same as his previous lottery draws, it only entitled him to win an award from the lowest pool of prizes. The low-quality ticket snapped in half, revealing a familiar spinning wheel. Ves vigorously yanked the wheel, causing it to make clacking sounds as the pointer spun over a rapid variety of rewards.

The wheel slowed down after half a minute. Time appeared to slow down as the wheel ticked forward in an exaggerated fashion. It allowed Ves to read the rewards hovering around the pointer.

[Endurance Candy]

[Alien Party Ears]

[100,000 bright credits]

[Lantern of Imperfection]

[1-day Haunt]

The pointer passed over the Endurance Candy, swept past the strange ears, and almost landed at the sum of credits. Ves never objected to having more money.

[You have received a Lantern of Imperfection.]

The System ended up defying Ves' wishes yet again. Instead of receiving something that he could desperately use, he instead received an old-fashioned burnished bronze device that had obviously lived better days.

[Lantern of Imperfection]

Light the lantern and shine it against a mech or component to reveal structural flaws. The revealed flaws are only visible to the holder of the lantern. The lamp contains enough oil to burn for five hours.

"This could be useful." Ves remarked, actually a little impressed by the generosity of the lottery.

Machines that could analyze and reveal structural flaws existed, but only high-tech researchers and manufacturers were able to afford them. The assistance of such a device helped prevent defective material from being incorporated into a mech. For some parts, it was a lot more troublesome to replace once an assembler combined it with other parts and placed it in a mech.

Too bad the lantern only lasted five hours. Ves had no idea where he could buy additional lamp oil either. The System being its usual obstinate self remained silent to Ves' questions.

"Now it's time for the main show." Ves smiled as he beheld the shiny golden ticket that had actually materialized in front of him. With a satisfying pull, he ripped the ticket in half.

Festive bells rang out as a transparent man-sized pagoda dropped down from the roof. The Pagoda consisted of nine stories, and each story spun in an alternating direction. The first story spun to the left, while the second to the right, and the third back to the left, and so on. It all gave off a sense of grandeur to Ves, as if Buddha himself had descended to give him a reward.

The spectacle raised Ves' hopes. If the introduction already looked so impressive, then he surely wouldn't receive something cheap.

[Approach the Pagoda to determine the tier of your reward.]

This was different. Puzzled, Ves took a step forward, and then another when nothing special happened. Somehow, he couldn't get any closer to the pagoda no matter how many steps it took.

A formless pressure arrived that pressed down on his body. Neither gravity nor air pressure changed. Everything else remained the same. Only the pagoda itself rose up in the air, dimming the workshop from Ves' sights.

Ves felt his vision dim from the pressure threatening to burst his head. Nevertheless, he clenched his teeth and kept putting one foot over another. When his consciousness was on the verge of passing out, the pressure disappeared.

He fell to the ground as his breath wheezed as if he had run a marathon. The strange event affected him severely. He didn't exactly know what the pressure represented, but he hoped he did okay.

[Evaluation completed. You are eligible to draw a reward from the 5th tier.]

The pagoda transformed in response to the judgment. Its top 4 and bottom 4 stories slowed down their rotations, eventually falling still. Only the fifth story of the pagoda continued spinning its merry way.

"I don't know exactly what the pagoda did to me, but I guess did an okay job." Ves concluded spuriously. He really had little clue why the System needed to resort to such mysticism in order to give him a simple production license. "I really need to do better next time. I'm not resigned to remain average for the rest of my life."

Now that the test had ended, Ves easily approached the side of the pagoda. Its fifth floor continued to turn, whipping up a small current of air that blasted Ves' face. Even Lucky jumped down from the couch and inspected the strange floating structure. His face looked as if it was wondering what the fuck made it spin.

A small, hand-sized bell appeared in midair. It was one of those bells that hung in Ancient Terran temples. A small cord hung from the clapper that allowed the bell to make its ringing.

[Please pull the cord when ready.]

Ves held the end of the chord and pulled firmly. The bell released a delicate tingling tone, causing the pagoda's fifth story to shine brighter even as its rotation lost its driving force.

Like the regular lottery wheel, the pagoda's many sides portrayed various prizes. Ves even recognized a few of their profiles and determined they were mostly lastgen models. This meant that the mechs first saw commercial release in the last thirty to seventy years, which was a fairly good range.

Any mech models older than lastgen were considered obsolete. Their performance just couldn't keep up with the models currently in use even in an assisting capacity. The price of such mechs often matched the cost of raw materials and production, meaning Ves would never be able to make any profit even if he handcrafted the mech in his own boutique.

On the other hand, newer models also presented a few problems to Ves. The more current the mech model, the stricter its license. Only trusted mech designers and large commercial enterprises received approval to buy them. In addition, newer designs incorporated more advanced technology that required special machines to fabricate.

His 3D printer was just a run-of-the-mill currentgen product with no special features. It was capable of printing almost any of lastgen's specialist components, but if it came to the current generation's fancy tech, then he may need to acquire millions or even billions of credits worth of production lines.

The pagoda finally stopped its lumbering spin. Ves' stomach sunk as he recognized the white, medium-sized mech on its front-facing wall.

[Congratulations! You have received a 10-year production license of the following mech: National Aeromotives Caesar Augustus CA-1.]

"...Shit." Ves muttered as all of his excitement drained from his expression.

His comm burst up as Ves received a new mail. He numbly tapped the message. It came with a lot of legal bullshit from the so-called 'Future Sons Technology Institution'. Ves skimmed through the lengthy texts.

[...We hereby grant you with an unlimited production license of the Caesar Augustus CA-1, valid for a duration of 10 years from the signing of the included contract.]

No matter how many misgivings Ves had about the CA-1, he was stuck with it. He quickly signed all of the contracts to get the paperwork out of his sight. He received another message a scant few minutes later, showing that the local had successfully approved of the contract. Ves now possessed a legal license to produce the Caesar Augustus.

"Fucking double shit." Ves felt like he wanted to cry but had no tears.

The Caesar Augustus had a colorful history. Ves happened to be familiar with it, because it had been a lesson in college on what not to do.

The story started fifty years ago, when National Aeromotives, a renowned manufacturer of aircars and shuttles decided to enter the mech market. They adopted a two-pronged approach.

The first approach was to license a couple of mainstream designs, retool a couple of factories, and pump out loads of shoddy quality but cheaply priced mechs. The sheer quantity of mechs they made allowed them to figure out the intricacies of mech production quite rapidly. The quality of their mechs improved with each new production run.

The second method was to allow Jason Kozlowski, the son of NA's CEO to learn how to design mechs. He directly attended one of Estelon's premier mech design program. An important thing to mention was that Jason had been a spoiled brat. As could be imagined, Jason spent much of his time on Estelon attending parties and getting drunk off his ass. Only his superior genes enabled him to perform well enough in class to graduate.

Once Jason returned home, he made a high-sounding announcement to the galactic press. He claimed that he would take just one month to design a fully original mech that would outperform all of that period's current generation mechs.

Many industry insiders scoffed at such a boast. Forget about outperforming a current generation mech, many freshly graduated mech designers weren't even capable of designing a model that could outperform a lastgen mech. It took years of experience, learning many skills and acquiring many new technologies to even be capable of producing such a stellar mech.

In any case, the public hung onto Jason's every word. A face this handsome wouldn't renege on his promise, right? After the announcement, a couple of black-suited men quickly brought the prodigal son away from the press conference and he was never seen again for a month. Some conspiracy theorists guessed that National Aeromotives wanted the public to forget about Jason's pledge. They received an unexpected surprise when Jason showed up to the press exactly thirty days later.

A slightly disheveled but attractive young man then proceeded to introduce his month-long effort. He domineeringly named it after the first Ancient Roman emperor, for it was indeed capable of outperforming most mechs of the current generation. Just its majestic posture and stately head design showed that Jason spent quite a lot of time matching the mech's aesthetics to its superb offensive power.

The Caesar Augustus offered supreme offense and supreme defense in the medium weight class. By far the most expensive component was National Aeromotives' proprietary armor plating, originally designed to protect its most luxurious line of space shuttles from direct microasteroid impacts. Though expensive and difficult to produce, the armor offered superior protection that approached nextgen standards at the time.

The CA-1 also provided a variety of offensive options. Its main weapons were its two wrist-mounted laser cannons. Missiles mounted on its shoulders provided some long-ranged indirect firing options while a classic sword and shield built out of the same excellent material of its armor made the mech a monster in melee range.

While Jason showed off a holographic model of the white-painted mech and its admittedly impressive capabilities, the experts combed over its specifications. They quickly couldn't hold in their laughter.

The Caesar Augustus hid a bevy of issues underneath its perfect exterior. Jason crammed the CA-1 with so many gadgets that it affected the frame's integrity. Any damage that got past the armor could easily damage five essential subsystems, either crippling the mech or at least take it off the battlefield. In order to save space, many of those subsystems got tangled together, making it a pain in the ass for any technician to replace even a single faulty power line.

The mech also lacked endurance. It peaked early but had no staying power. Its missile capacity could be emptied in seconds. Its wrist-mounted laser cannons built up an alarming amount of heat that Jason had done almost nothing to mitigate. And even if he did, the mech's average energy capacity meant it couldn't feed the weapons long enough anyway.

Fortunately Jason hadn't been conceited enough to add a flight system to the already over-engineered mech. Its energy would just drain faster in that case!

All of this meant that Ves was now stuck with one of NA's biggest commercial flops in recent times. The CA-1 was a white elephant that was difficult to produce and required constant babysitting. The most troublesome thing about producing it was that its special armor plating required a dedicated machine to produce. Ves' 3d printer wasn't advanced enough to produce it on its own.

It was impossible for Ves to produce the stock model of Caesar Augustus in two months. He lacked the time, money, skill and equipment to accomplish such a clusterfuck of a production. And even if he did managed to cobble up a model, it was a question whether it would sell. However, the System awarded him with only just one production license, and for better or worse, Ves was stuck with the elephant.

"It's not like I'm stuck with the stock model. I still have the Mech Designer System."

If Ves could use the System to redesign the CA-1, he might be able to come up with a less demanding version of Jason's first masterpiece. He wasn't ready to give up. A tentative plan already drew in his mind.

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Ves made the biggest gamble of his life so far. If he won, he'd be able to produce a stellar mech and sell it for a hefty profit, making more than enough money to meet his impending interest payment. Success danced on a string, and each time Ves stumbled, he risked the whole scheme coming apart.

First, Ves needed to grow accustomed to the Caesar Augustus. Fortunately, a real universe production license also counted as a virtual license in Iron Spirit's terms of service. He only needed to send a copy of the license agreement to the game's support to be able to tinker and sell the model in-game.

As a lastgen mech in today's standard, the CA-1 counted as a 5-star mech in the game. This meant only older, more skilled potentates had the capability to buy the mech. The Caesar Augustus could be sold for a higher price, allowing Ves to earn some actual profits from his sales if he designed a good enough variant.

Iron Spirit's tiered leagues put a cap on how good a mech you could play depending on how well you progressed in the game.

A Bronze Leaguer only had access to 1-star mechs.

A Silver Leaguer had access to 2-star and 3-star mechs, though they could still play around with 1-star mechs if they wanted to have some fun.

A Gold Leaguer had access to both 4-star and 5-star mechs. Most potentates that did not pursue a professional career in piloting mechs languished in this League.

When one reached Platinum League or further, they gained unrestricted access to every mech, even the mythical 10-star mechs. However, the higher the tier, the more expensive the mechs cost to purchase and to repair if it ever got damaged. The fancier mechs even required weeks of in-game time to repair if they got completely destroyed. This meant that a fair number of Platinum and Diamond players still occasionally took a 5-star mech into a match for the purpose of earning some easy gold.

This resulted in 5-star mechs being one of the most profitable tiers in Iron Spirit. High performing models especially attracted attention. However, whether Ves could break into this market was still a question, considering he lacked familiarity and expertise with the Caesar Augustus.

In the 45 days of time before the Young Tigers Exhibition started, Ves needed to produce an extensive and realistic redesign of the CA-1's stock model. He needed to acquire new sub-skills and credits to buy virtual licenses of the components he needed for his redesign.

In the meantime, he had to release a number of mech designs in the game in order to generate even more credits. Much of the money would be used to buy the real universe production licenses of the components he had used in the game.

It sounded terribly complicated, but actually Ves didn't need to change what he had been doing so far. Essentially, Ves only needed to continue to design variants and put them onto the in-game market to sell.

First, Ves contacted Iron Spirit's support in order to receive his virtual license. A production license of a lastgen mech already cost many millions of credits. He'd be damned if he was forced to purchase a 5-star mech's virtual license, which potentially ran into the millions.

While he waited for his application to be approved, Ves shut off all distractions and loaded the CA-1 into his the System's Designer program to begin tinkering with it. He wanted to pry apart its shiny armor and see how much of a mess its infamous internals looked like. Besides finding a replacement material for its armor, Ves also needed to optimize the its internals in order to turn the CA-1 into a competitive mech.

One look and his hopes were dashed. It really did look like someone took a plate's worth of spaghetti and tried to stuff it in a small cup. It was doable, but it mashed everything together and left far too little slack. Cables, pipes and structural supports all crammed right next to each other, sometimes dangerously so. For example, if a certain cable broke and released electric sparks, it could ignite the gas released from a punctured pipe.

Though Ves knew these linkages could produce a catastrophe, he lacked the skills and resources to fix them. He could only document each fault he came across and come back to the problem later. Ves spent the rest of the day combing over each and every component, to the point of dismantling the engine even if he understood little on how the advanced component worked.

Ves took a deep breath when he finished going over the Caesar Augustus. If he wanted to understand the model deeper, then he needed to fabricate the stock model. He took a minute to log into the in-game market and inspected the model's market conditions.

"Damn, that's expensive!"

An average CA-1 sold for about fifty thousand credits, and that was for an in-game item! 5-star mechs belonged to an entirely different market segment than 1-star mechs. The latter catered to kids while the former was sold to professionals.

The raw materials required to fabricate the mech likely cost tens of thousands of credit as well. Since Ves had set bottom prices to his virtual mechs, he hadn't earned even a single credit or gold even after selling over a hundred models.

"I'm earning a decent amount of DP from every sale. If I raise the price, my mechs won't be able to stay competitive in the market. It's better if I don't change the prices."

The Caesar Augustus represented a marvel of its time. In order to solve its many puzzles, Ves required learning many new skills.

But while he needed to save up a lot of DP, he also couldn't go without credits. Ves switched to his mail and was relieved the game's support approved of his request to claim the CA-1's virtual license. After loading the mech's stock model in the in-game workshop, he received an unpleasant bill.

"So it costs about forty thousand credits in raw materials to build the base model. Even if the gold price looks a bit friendlier, it's not like I have a bag of virtual gold either."

The lack of cash on hand stymied Ves' progress in researching the Caesar Augustus. There was only so much he could do to play around with the mech's design in the designer.

Ves had learned one important lesson when designing the Fantasia variants. A passionate mech designer needed to get hands-on with his own creations. Just making a few doodles in a design program didn't turn you into a veteran designer. A real expert got his hands dirty, putting each and every part together to see how it works and where any problems might arise.

With only about nine thousand credits on hand, Ves needed to scrounge up at least 31,000 credits from any source he could squeeze. He first checked the System, but couldn't find any option to convert his DP to credits. Perhaps he could buy a few knick knacks from the Shop and sell it for a tidy sum, but that option wasted too much valuable points.

"Should I call Melinda?" Ves wondered out loud.

Family stuck together. If Ves took the time to explain his plans and difficulties to his cousin, he was sure she'd lend him the credits.

"It's not right. It's due to my own poor planning that I'm facing a shortage on credits."

If he cried and went to his family to bail him out, then sure, they might lend him a hand. It would also prove that he'd been in over his head. His aunts and uncles already disapproved of his career path. He wanted to avoid giving them ammunition.

Perhaps sell Lucky's gems? Ves had dug out half-a-dozen of these little shinies, and they all provided minor benefits when installed onto any mech. Any expert would love them if they realized they could improve their mechs by just installing a single jewel.

Shaking his head, Ves discarded the idea. "Nah, that's a last resort."

If he introduced these gems to the universe, a lot of powerful players would want to know their source. Ves lacked the strength to isolate himself from the connected universe he lived in. It was child's play to track him down once he revealed any oddities.

"Forget about it. I need to figure out something else. What do I have that's valuable but not so much that it can be sold for some quick cash?"

The workshop? Out of the question. The building, 3d printer and assembler constituted the most basic requirements of a mech manufacturer. Ves couldn't part with any of it. He might as well make a deal with the bank about the loan if he gave up on the workshop.

What else did he have? The licenses, for one. Since he had just read through the terms of the Caesar Augustus' production license, he became well aware of what he could do with it. National Aeromotives didn't allow any shenanigans nor did they accept any refunds of a license Ves acquired through a charity grant.

"I still have a number of 1-star virtual licenses. At this stage they're helpful, but not necessary to my plans. I wonder if I'm allowed to refund them. I bought them I bought out of my own pocket after all. Perhaps their terms aren't as restrictive."

Ves searched the galactic net to see whether he could get some money out of the licenses. To his relief, the BSBH Corporation indeed set down a standard policy for returns.

A virtual license could be relinquished within the week at no cost if the purchaser hadn't used it in any of his current models. If the owner possessed the license for more than a year, then the game wouldn't give one credit back.

Ves fell in the situation in between, having bought the licenses for more than a week but much less than a year. Iron Spirit allowed purchasers to get back 75% of their money if the licenses were not in use, and only 50% if they were. These terms only applied to licenses bought personally at normal prices.

Licenses bought at a discount or granted by other institutions didn't count, and unfortunately for Ves, the virtual licenses gifted by the System fell under this category.

Ves' head spun after he combed through all the license agreements, but his work paid off. He knew what he could return and how much money he could claw back from the game. He visited Iron Spirit's support site and submitted a refund application.

[Astoria Experimental Flight System: 12,500 bright credits

[Fayette ECM Mk. I: 3,500 bright credits

[Red Eye Assisted Aim Module: 4,999.50 bright credits

[MTTR Removable Battery Pack: 1,500 bright credits

[Harconix Light DMR Version 3: 9,999.50 bright credits

[Mirin-21 Ultralight Armor Plating: 5,000 bright credits

The total amount of credits Ves expected to get back was 37,499 credits. He left out the Festive Cloud Generator in his refund application because he grew rather fond of it. He intended to incorporate the small, innocuous in his other designs whenever it fit.

As the support staff already received Ves' personal information when he made his previous licensing request, they worked quickly in processing the refund. An hour later, Ves received a mail and a credit transfer that indicated his refund application met with success.

With about 45,000 credits in spendable cash, Ves was more than ready to start producing the Caesar Augustus, at least in Iron Spirit. Yet before he did so, he hesitated.

The Caesar Augustus was a monstrously complex mech. While many processes had been streamlined in Iron Spirit's virtual crafting environment, it still remained a lifelike simulation. If Ves failed to produce a mech that matched the stock model's specifications, at the very worst he'd end up with an unsellable mech.

A mech that remained stuck in place meant no new cash flow. Without another source of credits, he wouldn't be able to produce another virtual mech to advance his understanding of the model and earn more cash.

All of this meant he couldn't fail at the first step.

"I'm not alone in this." Ves realized as he slapped his forehead. "Just because I can't beg for money from Melinda doesn't mean I can ask for advice."

He activated his comm and made a call to Bentheim.

Melinda's face popped up. Instead of the casual clothes she wore in her recent visit, this time she appeared in a formal uniform. "Hey Vessie, what's up?"

"I'm good, but I've got a little trouble."

"Okay, tell it to me briefly. I'm technically on shift so I need to get back to work soon."

Ves nodded and described how he received a grant license of the infamous Caesar Augustus. Naturally the charity the System setup looked squeaky clean on paper, so Ves wasn't worried Melinda would dig into it and find anything improper. He emphasized his determination to tackle the challenge of mastering its design.

Frowning, Melinda tutted her disapproval. "They've sure thrown you off the deep end. The CA-1 is a beast of a machine, not something a fresh college graduate should come into contact with. This sounds pretty shady."

"Nevermind that Melinda. Just tell me if you can pry something loose from the Mech Corps or the Bentheim Planetary Guard. Without getting you into trouble, of course."

Melinda furrowed her brow. "I can ask the mechanics for some tips. I'll also see if I can dig something up from the archives. I'll pass anything I can find along to you as long as it's not classified or proprietary knowledge."

"Thanks a lot. I'm sorry for troubling you that much."

"Hey, you're family, Vessie. I'd do anything to help. I gotta go back to work now, so see ya later!"

"Bye!"

With that done, Ves turned to a different issue. With his DP steadily accumulating, he should make a tentative shopping list of sub-skills he needed to rework the CA-1. He opened his Skill Tree and started to comb over the available skills.

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The battlefield finished loading, revealing a ruined city. Craters, broken mechs and other war debris littered the landscape. Eerily, no life moved in the city. All was still, except for the desolate wind howling between the cracks of fallen skyscrapers.

The silence ended as a brilliantly colored streak rose in the air. The Fantasia R2 Seraphim readied its long ranged rifle and scanned the surroundings vigilantly.

"Come on! Let's stop hiding like rats." TheSeventhSnake publicly declared. "I'm right here! Shoot me if you can!"

Nothing responded to his taunts. The slim, grey Phantasm that popped up from the side of a broken tank shook its head.

"I told you they wouldn't fall for it. Congratulations for revealing your position. Now get down and stop wasting your limited energy." Triceratopssss said as he tried to accustom himself to his new mech.

The Seraphim cut back on its wing thrusters, allowing the mech to find some cover among the streets.

"This is why I hate 2v2. Everyone's constantly playing these clever strategies. The 1v1 arena is a lot more straightforward."

The Phantasm's pilot kept his mech in the shadows as he explored their surroundings. "I'm not saying you're wrong, but remember it was your idea to duo queue with two Fantasia variants. We have to play a little dirty if we want to win as a pair of light mechs."

The two versus two arena provided a more intricate combat experience compared to the solo queue. With a teammate at your back, pilots had a lot more leeway in bringing a specialized mech to battle.

For example, one player could pilot a heavy mech laden with missile launchers and magazines. Such a mech could rain death at long and medium range, but was as helpless at a kitten once an enemy got close. However, a teammate kitted out in a melee mech could keep off any mech that approached in the assurance that he won't get shot down from range.

Compared to such a classical synergistic team up, a combination of two light mechs hardly sounded optimal. Neither mechs possessed toughness and staying power. If they weren't able to shred their enemies apart in the first ten minutes of a match, then they'd run out of juice.

Luckily, light mechs still possessed some advantages. While Triceratopssss kept his Phantasm behind cover, TheSeventhSnake's Seraphim engaged its active scanning mode. The mech's hair sensors extended out and released invisible pulses, most of which bounced back when it encountered the plentiful debris in the map.

"My scanners are having a hard time picking up anything with all of this junk blocking my scans. My radar is full of false positives. I'm practically broadcasting my position here."

"It's better than nothing. At least you'll attract the enemy for us while I find a good ambushing position."

The bait had been cast, and it only took a couple of minutes for the fish to bite. The Seraphim noted a large energy signature strolling down the main avenue.

"I got an incoming mech. With an energy signature this large, it's bound to be a heavy mech. No sign of its partner."

"They're playing the same game as us." Triceratopssss guessed as he moved his Phantasm a little closer in order to peak at the approaching opponent. "Do you want me to stay hidden or find an opportunity to jump the heavy?"

TheSeventhSnake mulled both options before finally deciding on a course of action. "It depends on the heavy. From what I can guess, it's likely to be a frontliner. Your Phantasm won't have an easy time peeling its armor if that's the case."

Triceratopssss only carried a basic pistol in his Phantasm's limited loadout in order to make room for a sword. He could peel apart most mechs fitted out as riflemen but faced some trouble against heavy knight-type opponents.

"Don't do anything fancy. Just sit back and be ready to back me up."

"Okay boss."

While the Phantasm slunk into the bowels of a giant commercial complex, the Seraphim flew into the air and over the skyline. He easily caught sight of the enemy mech, which revealed itself to be a model unfamiliar to TheSeventhSnake. The bipedal mech wasn't built as a knight. Instead, it appeared to sport a shotgun and a pair of shoulder-mounted lasers. The energy weapons tracked the Seraphim in the sky and let loose a barrage of beams.

The Seraphim snapped back with a couple of shots of his rifle, trusting his auto-aim to ensure it hit the heavy mech. The heavier the mech, the larger its energy signature, which meant that tracking systems had an easier time maintaining a lock. In the meantime, the flying mech cut back its thrust and dropped to the roof of a ruined apartment building, which cut its line of sight.

"Tops, the fucker's a striker. Its armor doesn't look too heavy, but he's sporting a really big shotgun. If he manages to draw a bead on you while you're closing in, you're dead."

"No worries, pal. He won't get me if I come from behind. Just keep attracting his attention." Triceratopssss cockily replied.

The Seraphim flew back into the sky and shot a couple more times. He had an easier time tracking the heavy mech than vica versa. Even though the Seraphim ran a little hot, its still a much lighter and less energy intensive machine. The constant roof hopping insured the heavy mech had to waste a lot of time reacquiring his targeting lock for his shoulder weapons.

TheSeventhSnake wouldn't be so daring if the heavy mech wielded a long-ranged rifle, which the enemy pilot could fire on instinct instead of relying on computer-guided algorithms. In the lower tiers of Iron Spirit, such computer-based targeting always worked like shit.

"I'm in position, Snake. You want me to go in?"

"The other guy's still lurking around. You might get sniped before you know it."

"I'll take that risk. I really want to peel this heavy guy's face with my sword. He's just so arrogant."

The Seraphim took a few glancing blows from the lasers as it rose to fire another volley. TheSeventhSnake guessed that the pilot took over manual targeting for his shoulder-mounted lasers. That meant the enemy would take time to switch back over to his shotgun when pressed in close range.

"Okay, let's do it. I'll make a few dives to attract his attention. Don't wait too long or I'll get screwed!"

After taking a deep breath, TheSeventhSnake jumped off the roof, spread his mech's wings and made a high-speed dive towards the enemy, all the while releasing a rainbow stripe. His rifle awkwardly shot a steady stream of energy bolts, most of which dug shallow holes into the heavy mech's plating.

The Harconix Light DMR fitted the Seraphim well. It possessed good range, a fairly high accuracy and didn't gobble down too much energy. Unfortunately, its punch had always been a little under-tuned among long-ranged rifles. The heavy mech, despite being under constant fire, practically ignored the DMR's shots, confident his armor could withstand the damage for the moment.

TheSeventhSnake gritted his teeth. "I've learned a few new tricks."

The great thing about energy weapons was that the wielder could change its power on the fly. He flicked a special switch and paused his shots. Instead, the rifle's chamber started to accumulate energy and heat. As TheSeventhSnake jinked his mech to the side, he fired his overclocked rifle after a full second of charging.

A bolt three times the size of his regular shots escaped from the barrel. The energy projectile drew a thin white line as it streaked across the air and hammered the heavy mech's shoulder, straight up crippling one of its laser cannons.

The heavy mech panicked a little. It jogged towards the nearest structure, eager to find some cover against the threatening fly buzzing over its head. Its remaining laser cannon ineffectively released a barrage of automated shots, most of them missing due to the Seraphim's speed and active ECM.

Just as the mech barged through the entrance, Triceratopssss' Phantasm dropped from the ceiling. Its emergence happened too sudden, and the heavy mech barely rotated its lumbering torso halfway before his sword sank straight down its neck with the full momentum of a falling mech.

The heavy mech exploded into sparks as the sword managed to stab through its power source. The Phantasm pulled out its weapon and flourished it with pride.

"Hahaha, Suq Madiq!" Triceratopssss elatedly boasted as he approached the smoking mech and squatted up and down near its face. "You just got owned by the master swordsman!"

"What are you standing for?! Fucking move!"

The warning came too late. A thin but powerful line shot straight through the Phantasm's torso, obliterating the cockpit in an instant. A loud sonic boom reached the mech moments later, not that it helped.

"A sniper!" TheSeventhSnake exclaimed, and flew full throttle in the direction of the previous shot. "Why did he stay hidden to the point of letting his teammate die first?"

He already made a couple of conclusions after rethinking the hidden mech's previous behavior.

"This guy is confident in his marksmanship but not to the point of handling two opponents at once. So he let his dumb loud teammate take the lead, certain that we can't resist the bait. Once we're revealed, we don't have anything left to hide."

While the Seraphim tried to vary his flight, the next sniper round snapped off half of its wings. TheSeventhSnake struggled to maintain control. He chose to verve to the side but maintain his altitude. Whatever was left of his wings were redlining and were on the verge of shutting down.

TheSeventhSnake was in a bad position. Pinned down by a sniper and with half of his mobility gone, he hadn't even caught sight of his remaining opponent. What he did have was a general idea of where his enemy hid. He remembered clearly that the shot came from the direction of the tallest building in the city.

"I can make it. I only need a couple of seconds."

The Seraphim's remaining wings glowed red as the pilot redirected an ungodly amount of energy in its direction. A brilliantly white flare erupted out of the damaged wings, propelling the Seraphim with supreme speed in the direction of the skyscraper. The unexpected overload happened just as the sniper shot his third round, causing it to miss narrowly as the Seraphim had already raced past its original trajectory.

"I got you now!" TheSeventhSnake yelled as his wings finally broke apart from the stress. His overheated mech blared warnings at him as his rear torso's internals were beginning to melt. Since he couldn't accumulate any more heat, he decoupled and discarded his rifle, instead choosing to draw his combat knife.

Sheer momentum drew the Seraphim onto the roof of the battlefield's only intact skyscraper. The light mech's feet skidded across the surface of the roof as the Seraphim did its best to bleed off its momentum.

The opponent's model surprised TheSeventhSnake. It was another Phantasm. The grey model set its unwieldy rifle aside and drew its own combat knife in response to the Seraphim's approach.

"This is going to be tricky. My mech has higher specs, but its already half-dead. My enemy is still fresh."

The two mechs dove into each other, their knives clashing loudly while their limbs released punches and kicks. Both their cloud generators worked at full steam. The Seraphim generated a lot more clouds, but the black and grey smoke persisted in staying present.

The duel between mechs progressed in the same manner. Knowing that his mech couldn't hold on for long, TheSeventhSnake summoned all of his passion and unleashed it onto the opponent with only a casual regard for defense. The Phantasm player remained cool under pressure, focusing on pure defense in order to outlast his opponent. Once the Seraphim broke down, he could easily swoop down and claim victory.

"As if I'd let you!" TheSeventhSnake yelled as he went forward and extended his mech's free arm, deliberately taking the Phantasm's cautious knife swing.

The Seraphim's arm got sliced through, but the Phantasm's knife lost its momentum, rendering it still for just a fraction of a second. The Seraphim leaned over with its shoulder and bashed it against the unprepared Phantasm, knocking it off-balance. The Seraphim then swung his knife with an underarm swing, cutting ruthlessly into the Phantasm's belly, right where the cockpit rested.

"I've avenged you." TheSeventhSnake sighed as the game confirmed his victory.

"That was COOL!" Triceratopssss exclaimed in the party chat. "That last moment when you sacrificed your arm, I swear the enemy Phantasm just froze."

"I guess he's too new. His marksmanship is top notch, but I think he lacks experience in close-quarters combat."

"Kind of funny how he chose to use that particular model as a sniper. It's not a bad choice in the light weight class, but there's better options out there."

"It's the third Phantasm I've seen so far this week. The Fantasia variants from Chasing Clouds are beginning to pop up here and there in our local server."

Triceratopssss let out a disappointed sigh. "They used to be our secret. You're practically his first customer. You got all of his mechs right?"

"Yeah, except for the 2R-E, the one with the big behind. I just can't bring myself in piloting such a mech in battle."

"I wonder what Chasing Clouds is up to these days. He hasn't introduced a new mech for sale in a while."

Despite the lack of new models, the Phantasm and Nomad enjoyed modest daily sales. In fact, a couple of potentates even bought the 2R-E a couple of times as a joke.

Ves' initial attempts to push his models onto young girls had achieved a small ripple effect. Other girls interested in the feminine looking mechs bought them to play together with their friends. Boys wondering what the fuss was all about checked out the mechs in the store, and bought them as well for different reasons.

Though not the cheapest or most effective mechs, the Fantasia variants succeeded in establishing a foothold in Cloudy Curtain's digital battlefield. They had never been bad models to begin with, they just lacked public exposure.

While sales hadn't grown to the point that they had gone viral, Ves nonetheless enjoyed a steady stream of DP even after his last tutorial mission had finished.

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The Skill Tree featured a virtually endless amount of skills. With enough Design Points, Ves could become the ultimate mech designer, capable of drafting a complete design in minutes with his left hand while pointing out the faults of someone's else work with his right hand. Naturally, Ves lived in a world where time and resources were finite, so he didn't delude himself into thinking he'd ever reach that point in his lifetime.

For all its merits, the Mech Designer System represented an incomprehensible piece of technology. Sometimes Ves felt as if reality itself bent to its whims. He didn't know how sapient the program was or how it determined its own limits. If one day the System's sophisticated AI turned crazy, entire star systems might get embroiled into war.

The System in fact always addressed him as a user, not an owner. It acted as if Ves was just one client who conveniently picked it on the ground. If Ves' father hadn't given him the data chip, the System might have found a way to get its chip transported to some other person with the traits it preferred. This insecurity made Ves question if the System was using him rather than the other way around.

Certainly the System didn't work for free. Some powerful entity had gone through the trouble of designing a reality-bending software working on principles at least a thousand years beyond humanity's grasp, and somehow it ended up in an average person's hands. And it was a question whether the System will stay in that person's grasp for long.

For all Ves knew, the System only treated him as a train. Once it reached its destination, it would leave without a word.

So Ves felt the need to milk the System while he still could. So despite all his doubts and questions, he still skimmed over the Skill Tree and made a shopping list of skills he needed to tackle the redesign of the Caesar Augustus.

[Assembly - Upgrade to Apprentice: 1000 DP

[Assembler Proficiency I: 200 DP

[Assembler Proficiency II: 400 DP

[3D Printer Proficiency II: 400 DP

[Jury Rigging II: 300 DP

[Electrical Engineering - Incompetent: 200 DP

[Electrical Engineering - Novice: 500 DP

[Electrical Engineering - Apprentice: 1000 DP

[Mediumweight Armor Optimization I: 300 DP

These were the absolute minimum required to produce or to redesign a Caesar Augustus. Ves needed to become much more familiar with the tools in his workshop in order to fabricate the CA-1's notoriously delicate components and put them together. And if he wanted to redesign the mech to make it easier to produce, then he needed to become proficient in electrical engineering pretty fast.

Since Ves was attempting to fabricate a stock CA-1 in Iron Spirit, he felt he should make a start on a purchase. He picked the cheapest option in the list and bought it immediately.

[You have spent 200 DP to acquire Assembler Proficiency I. Please view your Status in order to confirm your skills.]

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 98

Attributes

Strength: 0.7

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 1

Concentration: 1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice - [3D Printer Proficiency I] [Assembler Proficiency I]

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice - [Jury Rigging I] [Speed Tuning I]

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice - [Lightweight Armor Optimization I]

Evaluation: Halfway stepped out of the stupidity cave.

His status hadn't changed much except for the painful loss of so much DP.

Now that he had the means to produce a virtual version of the Caesar Augustus, Ves got ready. He logged in the game and entered his workshop. It was a good thing the machines in the workshop scaled to the mech you were working on. Iron Spirit remained a game even if it touted itself as a simulator, so it didn't want to scare people off by being too greedy.

However, some people spread rumors that the game would introduce a future update that 'enhanced' the gameplay experience of designers by forcing them to start paying for upgrades in their equipment. For now, the game simplified many things for Ves which he felt grateful for. He only had to pay 40,000 credits to get the raw materials for the CA-1 delivered to his virtual workshop.

In actually, the cost of raw materials didn't actually represent the value of the digital goods Ves received. The pallets of metals, plastics, ceramics and other materials he received were just a bunch of data that could be infinitely duplicated.

The payment acted more like a tax in another name. Some of it ended in the hands of the taxmen, in Ves' case the Bright Republic. Another portion got sent to the intellectual property owners of the many mechs and components Ves used in his designs. Only a relatively small portion of credits remained as revenue for the BSBH Corporation that ran Iron Spirit.

"Well, now it's time to transform these ingots and pellets into working components." Ves rubbed his digital hands as he approached the virtual workshop's 3D printer.

The house-sized machine was a souped-up version of the one he had in his real universe workshop. Much of its features and quirks carried over. With a familiar hand, Ves started loading the blueprints of the frame, the most fundamental part of a mech, representing the skeleton that anchored the other components.

Since it mostly consisted of solid pieces, with the occasional hinges and joints, the production occurred smoothly. The young Jason Kozlowski hadn't messed with it evidently. Still, due to the higher quality alloys used in its composition, the construction of the frame took up half a day.

Next came the power reactor, the part that generated energy from energy cells or processed fuel. In general, the power reactor was a mature piece of technology. Developers only tinkered with it here and there to provide a few more percents of efficiency or maximum capacity. They could be easily scaled to tailor a mech's weight class, and the CA-1 featured a fairly well-designed medium reactor.

As a long-standing manufacturer of aircars and shuttles, National Aeromotives produced their own lines of power reactors. Jason borrowed a premium reactor available from the company's RD division and stuffed it in his design.

The reactor required extra precision in the fabrication of its many miniature parts. Ves had printed engines from scratch before with the 3D printer, but this was the first time he took the trouble to print each millimeter-sized component one by one, and assembled them all together by hand. The tedious work took up an entire day. Ves felt he did an adequate job, in that the reactor worked. Whether it performed well, that was for later.

With that experience over with, his work on the engine proceeded a little smoother. Unlike the reactor, the engine took in energy to produce motive force. It allowed the mech to move its limbs and run like a marathon contestant. Much like the power reactor, Jason also borrowed it from his daddy's company, so it contained little innovations that made it troublesome to produce. Ves grew highly appreciative of NA's craftsmanship when he finished assembling the engine.

After that followed the musculature that made use of the motive force to move the mech's limbs. Cheaper mechs such as those used in agriculture used hydraulics, electrical engines or a bevy of other cheap alternatives. Combat mechs required something more sophisticated, to better emulate a living being's responsiveness when pilot connected to them neurally. Lucky enough, the technology behind artificial musculature remained stagnant for over a century, so its production went like a breeze.

Next came some of the most difficult parts, the computer chips and cabling that provided instructions and processing power to a machine. It represented the brains and nervous system of the mech.

The chips demanded the most from the 3D printer, but they weren't difficult to produce since they were lastgen technology by now. The amount of miniaturization and other fancy stuff that went into the production of a chip could only be taken care of by an automated program. Ves only needed to inspect the 3D printer beforehand of dust and faults before producing the tiny chips.

Ironically, the cables required more finesse. As if aware his mech required too many cables, Jason chose a special mix of metals and insulators in different proportions depending on the size of the cabling. A single string of cabling could either be thicker or thinner at certain parts depending on its location. It made for a fine mess when you added in the sheer number of cabling, and Ves felt he was growing mad at the end.

After a long rest and a good night's sleep, Ves continued with manufacturing the specialist components of the Caesar Augustus. These components differed wildly from each other, as Jason had filled in a shopping list of all the best commercially available components.

The ECM, radar, boosters, gyroscope, cockpit, sensors and all the other components came from wildly different manufacturers. This meant that Ves had to watch out for certain issues on one set of parts, but needed to pay attention to a different area with another set of parts. Ves diligently read the documentation while he went over each component, so he hadn't been met with outright failures.

However, many parts came off the 3D printer in a marginally acceptable state. Ves lacked a reserve of raw materials to fabricate replacements for all but the worst parts. It just couldn't be helped. He could only blame Jason for blindly picking the shiniest toys and rely on his super-duper expensive industrial scale workshop to reproduce them perfectly.

With much of the interior of the mech done, Ves turned to the most expensive part of the mech, its proprietary armor. Thirty years ago, a manufacturer required a dedicated machine from National Aeromotives to mix a bunch of metals into a highly compressed piece of plating.

Fabrication technology advanced since that time, and now that the armor's formula became semi-public knowledge with the release of the CA-1's licensing options, all modern 3D printers could reproduce it as long as they weren't too cheap.

The Caesar Augustus required a large amount of plating for a medium mech. The large, bulky sword and shield also added to its total weight, almost pushing the mech into the heavy weight class.

The production of the plates came with its own challenges. Due to Ves' inexperience, some of its armor plates came out of the 3D printer with higher than normal stress or other issues. If the virtual 3D printer wasn't so good, Ves might get stuck with a number of half-failed plates.

"Damn." Ves sighed as he finally finished producing all of the CA-1's components. "This is more tiring than I thought. There's a world of difference between 1-star and 5-star mechs. Hundreds of years of technological progress only made things harder to build. I really miss the simple Fantasia."

The challenges he faced with this step alone broadened his vision of what mechs were capable of. Working on a near-modern mech meant for elites taught Ves what this target segment looked for in a war machine.

"An elite mech has to meet different requirements than regular frontline mechs. They pack as much armor and punch as possible in a reasonably mobile package. Energy efficiency isn't necessarily a problem when you can swap fuel or energy cells from a support group on the field."

Jason wasn't wrong to design the CA-1 along those lines. He just went a little bit too far with it. Competing mechs could do almost everything the Caesar Augustus could do, but lasted a little longer in the field. Sometimes that extra time counted, so procurers wanted to be safe than sorry by picking the less exaggerated choice. The Caesar Augustus was also a bitch to maintain in a chaotic battlefield, so generally only wealthy ace pilots who cared a lot about peak performance bought the models.

"Next up, assembly."

To assemble the mech from scratch, Ves first put together the frame. The parts that composed the mech's skeleton were built to be big and robust, so Ves easily got to practice his enhanced assembler sub-skill without much risk. The skill improved his ability to manipulate the lifters and arms that composed the assembler module. The parts that he wanted frozen stayed still, while the parts he wanted moved got shifted around just enough but no further.

As Ves already assembled the power reactor and engine by hand, he only needed to place them delicately in the slotted areas of the frame.

After that, Ves added the other components and systems that made up the functionality of the mech. The biggest piece was the cockpit, followed by the energy storage unit that stored the replaceable energy cells. All the smaller systems followed, such as the sensors and boosters.

Finally Ves reached the most troublesome stage. All of the components had been installed on the mech, but they remained isolated to each other. Ves had to connect each of them together in a mish-mash of cables and pipes. In between these relatively delicate components, Ves also had to squeeze in a lot of artificial muscles. Sometimes that led to very tight fits.

The work tested Ves the utmost. He screwed up many times, having to remove the cabling and do the placement all over again. Sometimes he had to cram a bundle of cables through a narrow opening between pipes by force. The stress and frustration caused Ves to slip his fingers sometimes, causing unforgivable mistakes in the assembly.

After a nerve-wracking day of playing plumber, Ves finally reached the end stage of the assembly. He spent a much more leisurely time putting the armor plates together. Sometimes the improper cabling caused the plates to fail to adhere in its position. Ves sometimes had to hammer the problem areas lightly in order to cram the pieces of armor in their place. It proved the parts he fabricated were of substandard quality.

"It's finally done." Ves said as he sprawled on the ground in exhaustion. The diagnostics and debugging still ran in the background, but Iron Spirit took care of most of the issues that popped up at this stage.

"What do you think, System? Did I do a decent job? Why aren't you giving me an evaluation yet?"

[The Mech Designer System only evaluates designs, not copies. Since you are not the designer of the Caesar Augustus CA-1, you will not earn any Design Points even if you manufacture it a thousand times. Please work hard and make your own designs.]

That made sense. The System didn't want to bring up a technician or a factory supervisor. The main job of a mech designer was to make designs. The act of fabricating a mech in person was only done in order to understand the mech better or to ensure its quality.

Ves could only rely on the numbers given by Iron Spirit in judging how well he built his first Caesar Augustus. And from what he read so far, the news wasn't looking good.

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Reading through the Mech's specifications, Ves felt all of his satisfaction disappear. He accomplished the difficult task of building a highly advanced mech, to be sure. His lack of understanding and his poor proficiency with the equipment caused several problems with the mech. The Caesar Augustus he fashioned paled in comparison to a factory standard stock model. Several criteria showed a few percentage points of deficiencies.

Those percentage points might as well be a chasm in the mech market. When pilots wanted to buy a stock mech, then they at least demand them to adhere to standards. There was no way any sane pilot paid full price for a substandard licensed copy.

Ves took the time to search up the Caesar Augustus and its variants, what few they were. Unlike in the real universe, the Caesar Augustus enjoyed a little more popularity. Logistical issues such as limited energy mattered little when you played Iron Spirit's shorter game modes, such as the 1v1 and the 2v2 arenas. The tricky problem of frequent repairs could be solved with a wave of the hand as the game took care of everything as long as you had gold or credits to spend.

The players who bought the Caesar Augustus tended to be more affluent than normal, but also demanded more of their mechs. Their willingness to pay a little more for a higher performing mech didn't help Ves at the moment because his own product was trash.

"Still, I have no choice but to get rid of it. I've pumped a fortune of credits in its virtual construction. I should at least be able to recoup the cost."

With no other choice, Ves switched to the sales page and put his first Caesar Augustus on sale. He put a tentative price of 45,000 credits. The price range made it seem like a deal, even if it didn't perform up to spec.

[Caesar Augustus CA-1]

Tier: 5-star

Base Model: Caesar Augustus CA-1

Purchase Price: 750,000 gold (-50%)

Premium Price: 45,000 bright credits

Hopefully some schmuck will snap it up without reading the specifications too deeply. Otherwise he'd have to go back to the store and lower the price again in order to get rid of it faster. He still lacked a lot of credits and had no reserve left to build another virtual mech.

"I'll check back in a few days." Ves said hopefully, but he could not keep out the grimness from hsi tone. "One thing's for sure. If I want to untangle this cluster fuck, I desperately need to become proficient in electrical engineering."

Ves checked his Status, and found he had gained enough DP to afford the first Skill in the Skill Tree. As a major skill category, Electrical Engineering was cheap to learn but very expensive to master, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he spent 200 DP to acquire the first tier of the skill, which the System called Incompetent.

Raw information and knowledge streamed into Ves' mind. More knowledge than he could handle tried to nestle within in his brain in a span of minutes, and it almost caused him to blank out. He dropped to the floor and tried to hold his screams as he held his head. Countless irrelevant pieces of data pressed against his mind.

Lucky even got frightened enough to jump up to a cabinet, wary of any intruders.

The pressure eased off after ten or so minutes. Ves let out deep breaths as he tried to regain his composure. Most of the data seemed to have been tossed to the back of his mind, inaccessible for the moment. Perhaps the subsequent skill upgrades unlocked portions of it. Strange.

In order to regain his calm, he took a break, taking Lucky out for a walk. He and his father lived near this stretch of forests and plains for many years. The house of his childhood in the suburbs had been sold, the new owners taking in the property with gusto. Instead, his father moved to build a second-hand modular workshop just outside the town. Its location closer to nature afforded better privacy and made sure nothing else got damaged if his workshop blew up for some reason.

"Do you remember a life before the System gifted you to me?"

The gem cat meowed with a puzzled tone as he explored the nearby bushes.

"Don't know, huh?" Ves said as he stretched his arms and raised his head to look at the wispy colorful sky. "This is my home planet. I lived her for almost my entire life. The only time I left was when I went to college in the capital."

The planet Rittersberg seated the government of the Bright Republic. They heavily controlled the climate in order to make it optimal for human to live there. Sprawling cities, fancy villas and vast stretches of Terran and indigenous wildlife turned it into a paradise, an expensive one, but idyllic nonetheless.

Still, Ves vastly preferred the rugged and untamed lands of Cloudy Curtain. The terraforming corporations who transformed the ball of rock into a live-sustaining planet only stuck around to do the bare minimum. They left with their fat paychecks even as incongruities popped up. The local air smelled different than the standard Terran norm. The summers never lasted long and it was cloudy pretty much every day.

This was his home. He was an inhabitant of Cloudy Curtain first, and a citizen of the Bright Republic next. Few woes occurring in the rest of the galaxy concerned him here on this quiet planet. This corner of the galaxy was on the outskirts of civilized territory. It held few stars, not much exotic resources and only a few small alien polities shared the Bright Republic's rimward borders.

Mech battles only happened occasionally. Besides the wars between the Republic and the aggressive Vesia Kingdom, the most the Mech Corps had to handle were lone criminals and small bandit groups too weak to prey in the bigger neighborhoods.

This led to a life of peace and stability, an enviable state of affairs for some people. His father purposely left the livelier planets of Rittersberg and Bentheim in order to make his home in snoozy Cloudy Curtain. When Ves grew up on this planet, he felt no different from his classmates and other people around him. Only when he studied at Rittersberg did he realize that the rest of the galaxy moved in different speeds.

It both scared and excited him.

Eventually, Ves firmly entered this complicated, murky world in order to fulfill his dream to become a mech designer. Just this decision alone brought him into contact with the government, trade associations, suppliers and more. He felt connected to the galaxy, as if anything he did affected the rest of human civilization. Only a little, but it felt as if his existence mattered.

"Hm, what kind of crap am I thinking? I should go back to work." Ves decided, and led Lucky back to the workshop.

In the meantime, he made a call to Melinda.

"Hi cousin."

"Hey Ves, I was about to mail you back this weekend."

"So do you have any results you can share with me?"

Melinda sent a few documents over the interplanetary comm. "The Caesar Augustus is a rare beast, so the Mech Corps never officially purchased any of its models. However, it did come into contact with a few models piloted by pirates fleeing the authorities of the bigger empires. They even captured one intact, more or less."

"Did they do anything with it?"

"The Mech Corps may be penny pinchers sometimes, but they won't throw away a functional mech. An ace pilot took it over and piloted it for a few years before it got embroiled in a border skirmish with the Vesians. It lost its left leg and a chunk of its waist. When it came back to the hangar, the Corps decided it was more trouble than it was worse trying to fix it up again, so they sold the rest for scrap."

"Damn, so it's gone now right?"

"Yup. Recycled down to the seats."

"Well, there goes my hope of refurbishing it. So anyway, the Mech Corps must have learned a thing or two about the CA-1, right?"

"Nothing officially, but I tracked down one of the technicians that serviced the CA-1."

That was impressive, and also a little dangerous. Melinda could get in trouble if she harassed a veteran too much.

"Don't worry about it, cousin." Melinda smiled over the comm. "He found the Caesar Augustus to be a bitch to maintain, but he still misses it. He freely gave me the notes he kept about the mech. I've sent it through this connection, so you should already have them in your storage."

"That's going to help out a lot. Thanks for taking the time."

"I'm looking forward of what you can do. Be sure to give me a call and show off your work when you finish a design!"

"Will do!"

When Ves returned to his workshop, he perused the documents Melinda sent over. The retired technician had conveyed his thoughts in a haphazard manner, with no apparent order in his many ideas. Ves spent quite some time to iron out the disordered words and plentiful jargon into something legible.

What he got opened his mind. The technician was evidently proficient in improvisation and jury rigging. He kept the Caesar Augustus going for years even without official replacement parts from National Aeromotives. Though the notes contained no schematics or blueprints, just getting to know the changes and the reasoning the technician came up with already gave Ves ideas for his own customization plans.

His newly gained skill in electrical engineering also helped him puzzle out the crude drawings of rerouted cables and shifted systems. The retired technician spent some of his spare time trying to come up with a better layout for the most problematic tangles. Not many of them looked viable, but the technician succeeded in coming up with some optimizations, making the mech a little easier to maintain.

After digesting the material, Ves had the urge to work on a design immediately. He quickly switched over to the Designer and started incorporating some of his ideas on the Caesar Augustus.

He worked on the easy solutions first. He moved a few components, sometimes shifting them just a millimeter, other times swapping them from left to right. Following these actions, he uncrossed a couple of cables and rerouted them through a different channel.

When Ves stepped back and admired his changes, he realized the technician's suggestions did have a basis on reality. The modifications he made according to the suggestions made the mech a little less troublesome to produce and maintain.

"Now that I've picked all the low-hanging fruit, it's time for the real work to start."

Ves intended to redesign CA-1 practically from the ground up. Just making a few changes here and there just didn't cut it. So Ves bit his lips and started to test the viability of more drastic modifications, some suggested by the technicians and some he figured out himself after handcrafting its design in the game.

The changes he sketched improved the base model only incrementally. With limited knowledge and a lack of component licenses, Ves faced limitations everywhere.

At its heart, a humanoid mech imitated the workings of the human body. Though hundreds of years of progress have made a mech's mechanical workings increasingly more sophisticated, it still adhered to the same rules. If Ves arbitrarily cut off a few cables or messed around with its proportions, he might cause the the design to cascade into an unworkable mess just like if he messed around with an actual human body.

Some people started to question whether mechs would evolve to constitute life. Ves wasn't interested in these philosophical discussions that popped up every once in a while in college. He did not delude himself into thinking he was playing God by fashioning new mechs. Ves always thought his classmates who talked that way treated the mech designer occupation as a luxury. Ves preferred to hang out with the more down-to-earth crowd that treated the job as a way to assist the mech pilots that defended their homes.

A week went by as Ves made some accomplishments. He also earned enough DP to upgrade his Electrical Engineering skill to Novice. With his improved insights in electrical engineering, he also simplified a couple of problematic spots. This necessitated a drop in performance, but what he lost in specs he gained a lot more in ease of manufacturing and repair. While Ves had made some minor progress in taming the beast, it still maintained its essential wildness and ferocity.

"I still have a long road ahead, but I'm reaching the limits of what my skills and imagination can do."

He only managed to come up with a half-finished design. While he wanted to wait until he could afford a few more skills with his steady income of DP, he had to validate his design by fabricating it personally. Without getting hands-on, all of his work remained theoretical.

Ves finalized the design when he reached the limits of what he could do. He named the variant the Nero after a famous person who lived in the same time period as Caesar Augustus in Ancient Terran history. Frankly, Ves knew very little about history. He just made a casual search on the galactic net for some cool names and Nero popped up as some dude with a mixed evaluation. This fit in nicely with what he thought about his, which is what he also thought about his recently finished design.

At least he hadn't gone ahead and named the design the Bastard Son.

The System's evaluation of the design was mild, to say the least. All of its core systems and armor remained the same as its stock model, so the System gave him a low rating for effort. The only thing Ves managed to pry from the System was a base reward of 10 DP due to the design being based on a complicated lastgen model.

He was ready to start fabricating a virtual mech. When Ves logged into Iron Spirit and visited the market section, he found to his surprise that someone actually bought his half-baked Caesar Augustus.

TheGrandGreenRoad.

The user name sounded like a complete stranger. Ves checked his friends list and found nothing. Searching the galactic net only revealed that the player wasn't a celebrity.

"Who the fuck is TheGrandGreenRoad?"

Well, whoever he was, he saved Ves a lot of trouble. "Whatever. Since the mech got sold, I have enough credits to fabricate the Nero."

He threw the identity of the buyer to the back of his mind and entered the virtual workshop to go to work. He was eager to see if the Nero he produced could match the specs of a standard CA-1.

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The center of the Bright Republic lay in Rittersberg. Though Bentheim surpassed the founding planet with its vibrant economy and liberal housing regulations, Rittersberg still remained the seat of government of the hundred-planet state. Only inherited and distinguished families were allowed to live in its luxurious housing districts.

In one such district, a row of modest villas rested alongside a placid river. In the backyard of one of those villas, a man reclined in a folding chair as he held a fishing pole in front of him. An empty bucket lay beside him, waiting for fishes to carry back home.

An aircar approached the guarded district. After the local defense systems checked its transponders and scanned the vehicle for any threats, it approved the vehicle's approach. The aircar smoothly descended onto the landing pad next to the garage.

The door opened to reveal the chiseled face of a man in uniform. The man marched briskly towards the back, as if already aware the occupant of the villa spent his time there.

"Father."

Benjamin Larksinson turned his gaze away from the bobber and beheld the new arrival. "Ark. As carefree as ever I see. You've even taken the time to visit your dear old dad. How are the kids?"

"Rambunctious as ever." The uniformed man smiled a little as he loosened up. "I don't know how you managed to raise all seven of us."

"I had a good wife, as do you, Ark. No matter how much the service takes up your time, don't forget your family. You can do anything if the happiness of your wife and children are at stake. It's half the reason why I made it this far."

Ark nodded. "Speaking of which, I might have news of my elder brother."

"Ryncol... I have no idea what he's embroiled himself with. He's always been the most reticent of you bunch. He loves his own son like a treasure, so why did he not come to me? Does he think I will treat him any less? Pah."

"We've spent some time digging into Ryncol's movements of the last year before he disappeared. There's a couple of times when he went off the grid. I suspect he went incognito in order to visit a conflict zone. Accounting for travel time, It should match the times he couldn't be traced."

Benjamin grimaced at those words. "Pirates. What has my boy done now? I didn't raise any of you to make dealings with the scum of the galaxy."

"The trail ends there, unfortunately. We don't possess enough information to infer which conflict zone Ryncol frequented. We're analyzing all of the data devices he left behind, but he's been very disciplined with the trails he left behind, so we're not expecting much from those sources."

Sighing, Benjamin closed his eyes as he leaned back on his chair. "Tell me about my grandson."

"There are some anomalies surrounding Ves that paint a suspicious picture. While he had been an unremarkable student in the Rittersberg University of Technology, he's performing above average in the month-and-a-half that he's been active so far. It's as if he's given wings now that he's free."

Benjamin smiled at the report. "I always expected Ves to catch up to his potential once he got over his inability to join our career path. I'm glad he finally found his way and embrace his role in the world."

"The financing still remains troublesome. Despite receiving a production license grant, Ves is unable to leverage this asset. If nothing unexpected happens, he will fail to meet his impending interest payment. Father... will you give him a hand if he's come up short?"

"No. Not even at the very last moment. Ryncol went through the trouble of procuring those loans, so we should see his plans through the end. I don't believe he has lost grip of his son even if he's indisposed."

The river flowed gently along the stream. The sun shone brightly in the skies. A serene calm descended on the pair as the father kept fishing while the son organized his notes, sending over the relevant documents to his father's comm.

"How's my grandson's work? He's not making more Fantasia variants, is he?"

"He sold most of his 1-star virtual licenses to raise money. He's completely committed to mastering the Caesar Augustus. I bought his first mech, which is unmodified, and tested in simulations."

"Was it up to par?"

"Not really." Ark shook his head in disapproval. "If Ves produced a mech as shoddy as that in the real universe, he'd get chased away as soon as he tries to certify it at the association."

In most of civilized human space, weapons such as mechs faced stringent controls. Designers and manufacturers were only allowed to produce a mech if they owned the necessary licenses. When they finished producing a mech, they needed to be certified at the local Mech Trade Association before it receives permission to be put on sale.

The MTA was a transnational nonprofit organization with branches in pretty much every human state. A colossus of the mech world, they regulated the civilian production and sale of mechs. Most states like the Bright Republic gave them official backing to do so in their territories because they were good at it and adhered to strict neutrality, never overstepping their bounds.

In any case, if Ark said that Ves' product couldn't pass the MTA's strict certification, then he had a long road ahead of him. If Ves managed to shore up his weaknesses within a month, then he may be able to produce a mech that passed certification. But that required a lot of progress in a very short time.

"It comes down to time, huh." Benjamin mused. "If the interest payment didn't hang over his head, Ves wouldn't be rushing with building a mech beyond his capabilities. It's convenient timing on the bank's part that they chose to hang such a term over his head without compromising a single step."

Ark shifted another set of documents over to Benjamin's comm. "We've looked at the Cloudy Curtain Planetary Bank. The shareholders and employees are clean. Their books are also in order. The situation is just as it appears. The bank made a negative assessment of the viability of Ves' business, and just wants to claim the assets before they depreciate in value."

"Greedy bastards. I'm glad to hear they're nothing more than that, though. Saves me the trouble of another visit."

"According to the latest reports, Ves should be working on a new virtual mech right now. Do you want me to snap it up when he puts it on sale?"

"Yes, and keep buying one of every variant he sells in that game of yours. I want you to track his progress in this way and give him a little push while he's at it. Don't buy any more, though. I don't want him to grow complacent."

"Understood, dad. Anything else?"

"Keep digging into the so-called Future Sons Technology Institution. Any organization with the clout to grant a production license of the Caesar Augustus shouldn't be an obscure player."

"We still can't make much progress on that front since they're based in the New Rubarth Empire. Their corporate laws are too opaque, deliberately so. Even if we use our sources, they won't be able to get anything."

Benjamin spat to the side. "Ark, I don't need to know the shareholders or donors of the institute. Just find out if a New Rubarthan or a foreigner taking advantage of the local laws is pulling the strings."

"That should be doable. I'll pass on your instructions."

"That should be enough on your plate for now. Leave me to my fishing. I'll go over the documents later and send you my thoughts in a day or two."

"Very well. Goodbye."

As Ark left the villa, Benjamin relaxed his eyes and smiled. He held a steady grip on his fishing pole.

"What kind of father abandons their son?"

The fish still didn't bite.

Back on Cloudy Curtain, Ves released an exhaustive breath as he finished fabricating the Nero in Iron Spirit.

The customized Caesar Augustus model still had its problem spots. However, with prior experience and the various modifications he made to mitigate a few bad spots, Ves encountered fewer risks during fabrication. The CA-1A Nero as he named it still caused some difficulties, particularly with its armor plates which Ves hadn't modified. Finding a solution for the armor plates

The System offered a fallback. Its Store sold various goods as long as Ves could afford the price. The cheapest alternative armor he could find in the shop cost at least 1000 DP. Ves preferred not to buy them, because the armor plating was several generations behind current standards.

No one wanted to buy a CA-1 variant with crappy armor. A big part what made the Caesar Augustus was its sword and shield, which were made out of the same expensive alloys as its armor. Cutting back on the armor meant not just lowering the CA-1's defense, it also affected its offensive power.

Luckily, it wasn't a problem he needed to concern himself with today. Ves put the Nero on sale once he ironed out the remaining kinks revealed by the last-minute tests.

[CA-1A Nero]

Base Model: Caesar Augustus CA-1

Purchase price: 950,000 gold (-50%)

Premium Price: 60,000 bright credits

Charging 60,000 bright credits for the Nero was stretching the model's value. It only offered a marginal improvement in performance and a slight decrease in repair cost to any player interested in a Caesar Augustus model. Still, seeing how his previous mech got sold fairly quickly, Ves hoped his handcrafted Nero at least provided higher profits. He wanted to see some validation in the work he put in his models.

Now that he finished the Nero, Ves ought to go back to the Designer and create another variant. The problem was that Ves couldn't achieve a breakthrough in either improving the CA-1's internals or replacing its armor. It came down to a lack of skills and resources.

"I can't afford the things I need." Ves sighed. "Stupid System. Why did the pagoda thing reward me with a Caesar Augustus."

He checked his Status again in order to see how much catching up he still had to do.

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 175

Attributes

Strength: 0.7

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 1

Concentration: 1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice - [3D Printer Proficiency I] [Assembler Proficiency I]

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Electrical Engineering: Novice

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice - [Jury Rigging I] [Speed Tuning I]

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Physics: Novice - [Lightweight Armor Optimization I]

Evaluation: An all-rounder in incompetence.

"I've acquired a decent amount of skills, but I've split my attention." Ves concluded as he saw how many low-level skills he currently possessed. "I should either finish upgrading my Electrical Engineering or pick up Mediumweight Armor Optimization I. Raising my Assembly sub-skills can wait for later once I start fabricating the real thing."

Nothing changed after staring at his Status for ten solid minutes. "Come on System. I'm at the end of my rope. You haven't sent me a mission for a while now. Why not give me something to work with? Do you expect me to beg my grandpa for a loan or something?"

[You have received a new mission. Please check the Mission page for the details.]

"YES! Finally!" Ves celebrated as he raised his fists with a grin. He then knelt on the ground, kowtowing towards the computer terminal. "You are my god, System."

He kept praising the System and its timely missions, completely forgetting the times he cursed the System for giving him missions with ridiculous demands.

[Mission]

Mission: Tutorial Part 4 - X-Factor

Difficulty: B-Rank

Prerequisites: Completed Tutorial Part 3

Description

Some have characterized the profession of mech designer to the modern Prometheus. Are mechs purely machines, or are they something more? Please design a mech with a prominent X-Factor, ranking at least E- or higher.

Reward: 1 random 10-year medium armor production licence, 200 tons of raw materials reserved for armor production

The rewards attracted Ves' attention. With a production license and a couple of containers of raw materials in the bag, Ves faced much less financial pressure in gathering the other materials required to fabricate his desired CA-1 variant. This mission was essential to his future planning.

"Uh huh." Ves scratched his head. "What the hell is X-Factor?"

[User, please research diligently and form your own answer to the riddle of X-Factor. There are no wrong answers.]

"Okay. Whatever." Ves had the feeling this problem was a lot bigger than anyone thought.

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From the esoteric manner in which the System described the X-Factor, Ves felt a headache coming. What was all of this stupid talk about Prometheus and life?

A mech was a weapon, a tool in which humanity used to wage war. In ancient history, when humans wanted to find a means in which to leverage a power greater than the human body could carry, they turned to horses. When cavalry added their weight to a charge, a normal footsoldier possessed few means to resist such force.

With the rise of machines and the fuels that could power their insatiable appetites, warfare evolved. The deadliness of a single soldier remained limited, but could be multiplied if they operated tanks or airplanes. Though the uses of infantry never faded out even until this day, the primacy of machines over man in matters of warfare reigned supreme ever since.

The introduction of mechs to the battlefield reinforced this principle. Melding the human form with the awesome power of machinery, the mechs provided humans with an excellent means to wage warfare on the ground. In the past 400 years since the first mechs stomped all over a battalion of infantry and tanks, they remained the mainstay of human planetary warfare.

Ves thought deeply and could not wrack his brains in figuring out where this elusive X-Factor fitted in. It sounded a lot like the metaphysical bullshit that remained a popular topic of conversation among the dreaming students back in college.

"Man, why am I trying to figure this out myself?" Ves shook his head. He sat down in front of his terminal. "Let's see what the galactic net has to say about the X-Factor."

The topic appeared to be obscure, but due to the sheer size of the galactic net, Ves found plenty of sources.

"Does the X-Factor exist?" An interviewer asked the older gentleman across the seat.

"I do not know." The professor replied, shaking his head. "In all my years of researching and developing the neural interface that allows pilots to control a mech like their own body, I have never come across a case where the mech provided measurable feedback to the pilot. The vague stories I've heard about the X-Factor all originates from the mouths of mech pilots, who aren't exactly the most authoritative voice in the area of mech design."

"So you're saying it might be a hoax?"

"I try to keep an open mind, so I'm not inherently dismissing the theory. If someone is able to present me with stronger proof in the form of hard data, then I'd happily convert into a believer. But from what I have found out so far, the primary sources that speak about the X-Factor are mostly veteran pilots suffering from borderline PTSD. Age, combat stress and mental injuries all contribute to hallucinations that mislead them to think a mech is doing more than it should. We haven't conducted enough research on the impact of prolonged use of the neural interface to a pilot's psyche."

"Alright, so you remain skeptical." The interviewer nodded. "Then professor, let's change to a different tack. Do you believe that mechs are alive?"

The academic let out a contemptuous laugh. "Let me ask you a question for once. Do you believe that mechs can think for themselves?"

"Hmmm at some level they do. All mechs possess computing power. Without processors to regulate a mech's operations, the pilot would be overwhelmed by irrelevant data. They act as the unconscious mind of a human's body. Since the infrastructure for an unconscious mind already exists, who's to say a mech can't also support a thinking mind?"

"Just because they have to potential to do so doesn't mean that makes it so. In your eyes, there's a small gap between processing data and independent thought, but in my eyes they are separated by a chasm as wide as the distance between galaxies. We humans have worked on artificial intelligence for thousands of years, but for all our advances we have merely achieved a facsimile of sentience. Computers still can't independently dream or formulate their own desires without an actual human hand-holding their train of thoughts. And never mind these complex desires. The most fundamental part of life is to reproduce, and I have never seen a mech become attracted to another!"

The interviewer laughed modestly. "Certainly that's true. However, they don't have to lift a finger to reproduce themselves. Us humans are doing it for them by developing ever newer mechs. Perhaps we might live in a future someday where the number of mechs outnumber the humans piloting them. Are we raising our own doom? What do you think about that scenario?"

"Accumulating war materiel is a natural state of affairs. No matter if you have 1 mech or 30 mechs, the pilot remains firmly in control. All the conspiracy theorists out there who believe that mechs are the remnants of an ancient machine civilization don't know what they are talking about. The first mechs have been developed using gradual advances in technology, all neatly documented and traceable without any alien influence."

The interview went on for a few more minutes along the same vein. Ves had an inkling of what the X-Factor was all about.

"I suppose most people think just like me, that mechs don't think for themselves." Ves mused as he scratched his head. "But can I still say the same now that I have the System?"

Ves had gone through a lot since the first time he received the System. He interacted through its menu like it was a software program, but he also talked to it like the System was an individual. Certainly the System responded like a living being, even showing some emotion underneath its robotic exterior. The question was if displaying these emotions merely fell into a programmed response. Was the System programmed to follow instructions all this time?

"Goddammit, this is just like the chicken and egg problem. It just goes round and round."

He learned to disregard problems he couldn't solve in a short time. Ordinarily he'd just ignore this issue, but since the mission forced him to figure out the X-Factor, Ves had no choice but to continue wracking his brains around the question of life.

"Man, let's find a more practical source of information. I need more hard facts and less wishy washy talk." Ves thought as he went back to the starting page of the galactic net.

Interviews provided by mech pilots tended to be more direct. Since they weren't scientists, they didn't fear ridicule if they said something wrong.

"Eric is my partner for life." A female pilot gushed as she watched over the technicians servicing her damaged mech. "I can't count how many times he saved my life. The more I pilot him, the more I become him. I put half my mind in his body ever time I connect with the neural interface. I don't believe Eric hasn't learned a thing or two from me in all these years. There were many moments I got into trouble in the battlefield. If Eric hadn't mentally nudged me here and there, I might have never escaped those deadly moments. If it was legal to marry a mech, I'd already be standing here wearing my bridal dress."

"I don't know why I'm still alive." A wounded mech pilot rasped as he beheld the stumps of his arms. "I knew I was a goner as soon as three bastards popped out of nowhere. My mate died, his cockpit blown apart before he could dodge. Something just snapped then. He was my friend, the partner I always shared my patrols with. Even our mechs had been a pair ever since they rolled off the factory. I guess my mech felt the same, because he fed his anger into me while I channeled my fury back into the frame. You know what happened next. We tore those bastards to shreds."

A shaggy-haired prisoner of war sat down on a metal chair behind a metal table. He looked around the interrogation room with distaste. "You want to know my secrets? Hah, you unfeeling murderers don't know the first thing about the mechs you're piloting. Have you ever rubbed your hands against them affectionately? Have you sat down next to their gigantic feet and tell them about the stars? Did you for one tiny moment stop murdering innocents long enough to treat your mechs like a person? I guess not. That's why I've been able to kill over two hundred of you bastards with just me and my mech. Because I was never alone."

"I've chased after the oft-rumored X-Factor for my entire life." An elderly executive stated as he sat behind an imposing desk in his office. "I bought and piloted over three thousand mechs. Bipedal, quadrupedal, humanoid, avian, reptilian, whatever the shape, you can be sure I piloted it at least once. I've also painstakingly tracked down over a hundred damaged, scrapped or second-hand mechs piloted by some of the most famed aces in the galaxy. All of them were excellent machines, especially after I restored them to their glory."

"So did you manage to fulfill your life's ambition?"

The old man smiled wistfully. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I certainly think that the X-Factor exists now more than ever. But is everyone fated for it? Perhaps us three-and-a-half percenters are not the cream of the crop we believe to be. Maybe only 3.5% of the 3.5% of humanity possess the right aptitude to trigger the X-Factor. But these so-called superpotentates cannot all be blessed. They need the right mech to unearth their full potential. But that's just a random idea I'm tossing out, don't take it too seriously."

"A mech is lifeless. It isn't born, it's created. It doesn't die, it gets destroyed." A famed New Rubarthan ace pilot said as he resolutely stood before his mech in a hangar. "All of these myths about the silly X-Factor are mistaken. I believe in the endless potential of the human heart. When one puts his body and soul to a single purpose, he can achieve 110% or even a 120% of his maximum potential. The mech is not the source, but the means in which we pilots can achieve miracles. I don't disrespect the pilots who believe in the X-Factor, but they attribute too much of their success to their mechs and not enough to their humanity."

Ves always believed mechs were machines. They were born for the purpose to be used, and if they failed to perform up to spec, then they'd be discarded as heartlessly as one would throw away a broken chair. You might feel some affection for sitting on it for years on end, but in the end it was just a piece of furniture.

But now he came across plenty of hearsay that suggested that mechs were more than unfeeling tools. They had to capacity to think, to feel emotions, to make decisions on their own, even if only faintly. Was this what the System referred to as the X-Factor? Though skeptics provided plenty of viable alternatives, Ves leaned more in favor to the idea that mechs could possess life.

Still, his beliefs changed nothing by itself. His mission wasn't to uncover the mystery behind the X-Factor. Instead, he had to design a mech that incorporated the vaguely defined X-Factor. How the hell was he supposed to bring life to a mech?

Then he remembered that he might have already touched the threshold. He activated the System and switched to his old designs. He called up the Seraphim's evaluation.

[Design Evaluation: Fantasia 2R Seraphim.]

Variant name: Fantasia 2R Seraphim

Base model: Fantasia 2R

Original Manufacturer: Kezia Armaments

Weight Classification: Light

Recommended Role: Aerial Marksman

Armor: D

Carrying Capacity: F

Aesthetics: A

Endurance: D-

Energy Efficiency: D-

Flexibility: C

Firepower: C

Integrity: F

Mobility: A-

Spotting: B

X-Factor: F

Deviance: 44%

Performance improvement: 17%

Overall evaluation: The Fantasia 2R Seraphim features a superior aerial performance at a horrible cost. Its performance in close-ranged combat has been sacrificed for powerful long-ranged firepower. The mech is able to outperform its opponents as long as it has energy to spare, which isn't much. The Seraphim further shines out due to its attractive appeal.

The description commented on the Seraphim's fundamental attributes. Nothing in it hinted at anything metaphysical, yet the System still gave him an F in X-Factor. Ves almost couldn't believe it. The Seraphim, a kludgy variant of the four hundred year old Fantasia model, carried the potential to ignite a mech pilot's performance beyond its pinnacle.

"What makes the Seraphim so special? The R2-E, Phantasm and Nomad are also based off the Fantasia, but why don't they have a whiff of X-Factor?"

The puzzled nagged at Ves. He felt as if he had the pieces in front of him, but he just couldn't make it fit. He doubted spending more time in the galactic net would help. A lot of the people who researched it never experienced the X-Factor for themselves.

Maybe he should find someone closer. He considered calling Melinda, but he didn't want to distract her from her work. Serving in the Bentheim Planetary Guard was a great honor for a pilot as young as her. Ves already crossed the limit when he asked her to pass over information on the Caesar Augustus.

"I don't need to find a real pilot. Iron Spirit is supposed to simulate reality accurately. Can it also simulate the X-Factor?"

It was an interesting question that Ves had no way of answering, but he was willing to bet the answer was favorable. He went to his store page and checked his sales log. Only five players bought the Seraphim. Four of those only piloted the mech occasionally, with mixed results.

Only one player piloted the Seraphim frequently and with considerable prowess. A Bronze Leaguer with the nickname TheSeventhSnake.

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Joshua drained the energy drink down his throat and tossed the can to the ground. A cleaning bot appeared out of nowhere to take the garbage away.

"Mom! I'm home!"

An elegant woman entered the foyer whilst carrying a babbling toddler. She approached the teenager and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Joshie baby! How was school."

"I'm not a kid anymore, mom!" Joshua whined as he avoided his mother's embrace. He ran up the stairs to his room. "And I did fine in school. My mech trainer complimented me again today."

"That's good news. The higher your performance, the higher your rank when you become a reservist. Just don't join the Mech Corps."

"I'm not going to mom." Joshua said as he threw his bag on his bed. "I'm going to play with the simulator again, okay?"

"Don't forget about dinner again."

"Yes mom!"

After fending off his nagging mother, Joshua left his room and went downstairs. He took two flights down and entered the basement. Situated in a cooled and isolated room was his personal mech simulator pod for Iron Spirit. An expensive piece of machinery, it outperformed the rental pods at the game center. His parents even forked out the money to dig a secure set of cables to the nearest galactic net node in order to ensure his bandwidth never conked out. All of this turned Joshua's pod into the best performing unit on Cloudy Curtain.

As Joshua entered the pod and let it close around him, he leaned his head back into the headrest that served as the neural interface. It hummed as it came to life, connecting Joshua's brain signals to the programs executed by the pod.

The world changed. The cool steel walls of the simulator pod made way for a vibrant world. Many young men and women around his age walked through the digital streets of the starting area. Some sat next to fountains, watching the live streams of popular players that chose to broadcast in public. Others entered one of the many stores in order to shop for a new outfit.

As for Joshua, he pulled up his friends list and tapped at one of the names to begin a dialogue.

"Yo Tops."

"Heya Snake." Triceratopssss greeted as his face appeared at the corner of Joshua's view. "Up for another bout of Arena?"

Joshua shook his head. "Hmmm I don't feel like it. The 1v1s and 2v2s have been getting kind of stale for me lately. I'm ready for something different."

"Oh." Triceratopssss mulled as he switched to matchmaking. "You wanna play Capture the Flag or Base Conquest?"

"Let's do Capture the Flag. It's 5v5 so I feel my skill still matters in that game mode."

The two paired up and entered matchmaking for Capture the Flag as a duo. They first received three random players to fill up their 5-man team.

"Hey fellas." Triceratopssss greeted his new teammates. "Me and Snake here are pairing up as light mechs."

"Medium missile platform." The third player spoke, his tone conveying his distaste in further interaction.

"O-kay. What about the rest?"

"Heavy Knight. Just plant me next to our flag and I'll make sure anyone who takes it will be dead." The fourth player boasted. Defending the flag was the most traditional role in Capture the Flag and perfect for a heavy mech.

"Got any guns on your knight?"

"Nope. But I'm faster than other knights."

"Great." Triceratopssss sighed. "At least you can chase the enemy if someone manages to steal the flag from underneath us. So what about the last guy?"

"I'm a girl thank you." The young woman emphasized with a sneer. "You just get out of my way. If you must know, I'm piloting a Genesis-18."

"The medium spider mech?"

"So you do have more than three brain cells! Congratulations doofus."

"Haha." Triceratopssss deadpanned. "Well, our team's a little light on weight, but we're very mobile. Let's do a 4-1."

"3-2." The missileer interjected. "My mech's a glass cannon. I'm best at supporting the heavy knight and providing long-range missile support."

"I'm attacking from the rear." The spider girl said. "I work best if I can sneak up to them alone, so don't you dare follow me."

Triceratopssss sighed again. Joshua, or TheSeventhSnake consoled him in a private chat. "Don't bother too much. Getting your teammates work together like we learned at school doesn't always work. A lot of players just want to blow off steam."

"God, I hope they make an effort then. My win rate for Capture the Flag is already in the dump due to getting teamed up with egoistic morons."

The matchmaking system released a bell, signifying a successful search of an opposing team. The screen changed into a small lobby where their team could inspect the enemy's loadout while the random battlefield loaded in the background.

TheSeventhSnake analyzed the enemy's team composition and felt a headache forming. "The enemy team has a three-person premade. They're all kitted with the same heavy mechs."

He didn't recognize the variants, but they looked a lot like the strikers he fought the other day.

"One of them carries a bunch of close-ranged heat projectors. The other transformed his arms into medium-ranged ballistic cannons. The last guy appears to be their long-ranged marksman with his jumbo-sized laser rifle."

It was a composition that lacked mobility but possessed power in spades. Relying on their tough armor and plentiful energy reserves, they could bulldoze anything in their way.

"The two randoms pulled in their team adjusted to the trio and came with their light mechs." Triceratopssss noted. "One aerial scout and one saboteur. That's plenty of mobility for them to plug their gaps."

TheSeventhSnake shook his head. "Not really. You can be sure the three meatheads will stick together. We're either going to face a heavy push or a full-on defense."

"If they keep turtle up in their base, I can bombard them with impunity behind a hill." The missileer said curtly.

"And if their team attacks, their flag will only be defended by two lights."

The map finished loading, causing everyone to appear in a small open fort. A lengthy flagpole stuck out from the middle of the parade ground.

"Alright, let's move."

The spider mech girl crawled over the walls with her eight limbs and disappeared from their view. The missileer took off in the other direction while the heavy knight planted its feet right next to the flag.

Triceratopssss followed TheSeventhSnake on the ground as he flew up in the air.

"The first thing we need to do is find the three heavies and figure out what they're up to." TheSeventhSnake spoke to his fellow teammates. "Me and Tops will scout the enemy first."

As a flyer, Snake's Seraphim traversed the forest prairie environment with effortless grace. Tops' Phantasm could only slink through the trees as third as fast. However, the ground mech was able to minimize its emissions to stay hidden while the flier radiated heat and also color as its iconic cloud generator spewed clouds of vapor.

TheSeventhSnake didn't care if he got spotted by the enemy first. Even as his Seraphim extended its sensor hair in the flowing wind, he was pretty much waiting to get shot at. After piloting the Seraphim for many hours, he grew confident in his ability to dodge.

"Hm?" TheSeventhSnake got distracted as a strange notification popped up. "Someone is spectating me? That's strange. Oh well, as long as he isn't feeding information to my opponents, I don't care."

A barrage of laser fire shot from a cloud. Some of the beams scorched TheSeventhSnake's armor, thankfully not damaging anything essential.

"I'm under fire by their air scout! Engaging! Tops, keep searching for their heavies, don't let this distraction fool you!"

Triceratopssss nodded as his Phantasm kept combing the surrounding area. "Roger that, pal."

"My ground-to-air missiles are ready to fire." The missileer interrupted. "Maintain contact and feed your target lock to me."

"No, stay out of this fight. I can handle this fellow myself. Don't reveal your position."

The Seraphim flared its wings and juked side to side as it fired back with its light DMR. The jerky lateral movements made it hard to hit by the enemy lightweight, but the long-ranged rifle also scored very little hits.

That was okay, because Snake increased his speed and approached with fury. His heart pumped faster and his brain went into a heightened state. His Seraphim holstered the rifle on his back, which was difficult with the wings in the way, and retrieved a pair of heated knives. Like the fangs of a predator, he wielded them in a reserve grip and rocketed in a charging attack towards the enemy flier.

The enemy mech panicked a bit as it had been loaded for long-to-medium range harassment. The pilot felt much less confident in melee than the enemy's so he flew back and engaged his mech's thrusters in order to escape the approaching rainbow mech.

"Death!" TheSeventhSnake yelled as he exerted his Seraphim to the utmost, managing to slowly close the distance at the cost of overheating his mech's wings. "I can take it! My mech is meant to rule the skies!"

The enemy mech dove downwards in order to gain more speed and perhaps seek help from its allies on the ground. However, the Seraphim anticipated the move and accelerated just a split-second earlier. The brilliant decision allowed it to close the distance just enough for Snake to feel the opposing mech's heat.

"You're mine now!"

The light mech gave up escape and flipped in the air, presenting its medium-powered laser rifle at him. The Seraphim crossed its arms just as the lasers pelted its form, causing a lot more spots to blacken and melt away. The enemy mech evidently overheated its rifle, sacrificing its endurance for a massive boost in firepower.

"It's too late!" Snake yelled as he made his Seraphim spin. The rotation allowed it to dodge the last set of lasers while adding momentum to its poised and outstretched knives.

The light mech extended its rifle in desperation, blocking with its bulk. One heated knife snapped right through its body, shearing the weapon into slag. The other knife passed around the weapon and scored a deep blow in the shoulder, practically crippling the mech's left arm.

The Seraphim finished delivering its attacks, leaving it open for the light mech's kick. The feeble attack hardly damaged the Seraphim, but it successfully pushed it away, leaving the half-crippled mech enough space to continue to fall.

Instead of chasing after its prey, the Seraphim holstered its knives and brought its rifle back to its arms. With a calm and steady aim, the Seraphim fired a constant stream of energy bolts.

The first bolts went wide, but as the light mech failed to adjust in time, the next bolts hit its wings. The damage was light, but it disrupted the operation of its wings. The light mech posed an easier target now that its speed reduced. The subsequent energy bolts shredded the rest of the light mech's wings, leaving it incapable of correcting its fall.

"Their aerial scout is doomed." TheSeventhSnake stated as he watched the smoking mech crash into the ground and explode. "What's the situation down on the ground?"

"Their saboteur is good!" The spider mech girl responded. "He got two of my legs, but he hasn't come out unscathed. Don't bother me. Lemme focus on the duel."

"Their heavies are attacking our base! I'm having a hard time keeping them off our flag!" The heavy knight gasped. "Mister missile fan is helping, but I really need more help!"

Triceratopssss also filled in his status. "I've taken their flag since spider mech is doing a good job keeping their remaining light mech occupied. I can either help her out or go back to base. I won't be able to deliver the flag with the heavy boys around."

"Return to base. We need to destroy at least two out of three of those heavies in order to give you an opening to deliver the flag."

"Okay boss."

The Seraphim flew back to base while the flag-carrying Phantasm ran across the terrain while holding a large flag. TheSeventhSnake assessed his mech's damage and energy reserves, and concluded it could withstand one more all-in assault.

"Damnit! They got my sword arm! I'm only left with my shield now."

"Hang on, I'm coming!" TheSeventhSnake responded as he broke through the clouds and flew over his team's base. His sensors rapidly detected the glowing hot forms of the enemy trio.

The close-ranged heat projecting enemy pinned down the heavy knight whilst slowly melting its armor. The medium-ranged ballistic gunner had succeeded in blowing off the heavy knight's sword arm and now went to work on its legs. As for the long-ranged marksman, it had already circled round the sides to suppress their missileer.

To his credit, the missileer used its superior mobility to stay one step ahead of the enemy marksman, taking advantage of the surrounding hills to keep out of its line of sight. All the while, it fired sporadic volleys of arcing missiles onto the other two heavy mechs with the help of the telemetry the heavy knight sent back. The missiles hadn't inflicted any critical damage to the two mechs, but the frequent explosions degraded their sensors and stripped much of their top-facing armor.

The two bruisers were so engrossed in bullying the heavy knight that the Seraphim was practically able to position itself at their rear. It then dive down in a descending, heart-stopping powered fall.

TheSeventhSnake overcharged his DMR, causing its chamber to accumulate so much energy that smoke started to escape. He even overloaded his rear-side cloud generator so that it created a vast rainbow wake that approached the unsuspecting two mechs like the front of a tsunami.

The heavy knight's facing allowed it to see the oncoming attack, and fell slack for a second, which proved to be a fatal mistake as a cannon shell ripped apart its right leg, causing the mech to lose its balance. The heat projecting mech pounced on the vulnerability while the cannoneer reloaded its shells with the confidence his target was already dead.

Just as it was in the middle of swapping its magazine, the cannoneer somehow felt an invisible pressure form from its rear. After switching to the rear sensor feeds, it suddenly noticed a gigantic attack coming from the air.

"DEATH!" TheSeventhSnake bellowed as he aimed and fired a humongous energy bolt at the flat-footed cannon mech. The bolt zapped through the air like a hot knife through butter. The huge ball of energy splashed against the mech's rifle, coincidentally also damaging its magazine, causing it to explode in a devastating ripple. The bolt fell apart with most of its energy dispersing in the air, but some of the damage landed on the mech's front, ruining its surface internals.

TheSeventhSnake had already decoupled and tossed aside his slagged rifle. With his twin heated knives he struck the damaged and bleeding mech in its head and upper torso. He landed with so much momentum behind him that the knives tore through the remnants of the heavy mech's armor and ruined several of its critical systems, the most important of which was the power reactor embedded near the heart area.

The Cannoneer, now cut off from power, shut itself off. Snake's Seraphim landed its delicate legs against the disabled mech's chest and bent its knees to mitigate its falling momentum.

That left it open to the remaining heavy mech. The heat projector ignored the heavy knight that had been slagged into a molten statue, and ran back to avenge his comrade. With his Seraphim already running hot like an oven, even a glancing hit by the wide-area heat projectors could cause Snake to be boiled alive in his own mech.

Acutely aware of the impending crisis, TheSeventhSnake acted in desperation. In a feat of exemplary control, the Seraphim spread its legs like a stripper and leveraged its grip on the embedded knives to spin around the unpowered mech's torso.

The air flashed with white-hot heat and the projectors fired. The cannon mech's ruined armor suffered a catastrophic amount of damage while some of its internals even caught fire. The Seraphim's exposed legs also melted into a half-puddle shape, rendering them incapable of supporting the light mech's weight.

However, TheSeventhSnake managed to preserve his mech's waist and upper body. The Seraphim leaned over, using the burning cannonneer as a shield, and did something stupid. It threw its knives at its opponent. The heat projecting mech got startled and hastily tried to angle its armor against the incoming projectiles, only for them to fall short and land on the ground.

The heat projector grew enraged, and stomped over with his lumbering mech while firing its heat weapon without regard. TheSeventhSnake continued to make his mech hug the increasingly hotter cannon mech, hoping desperately that it would last.

"Tops!"

"Got it!"

The heat projector inadvertently walked away from the center. This left the waiting Triceratopssss a narrow window of approach. His Phantasm swiftly but quietly climbed over the walls of their fort and made a beeline to the center where his own team's flag also rested.

Noticing his mistake, the heat projector's pilot commanded his mech to turn its torso. With his pair of heat projectors poised to fire, the Phantasm was bound to suffer greatly.

That was until TheSeventhSnake managed to pry off his battered and half-molten Seraphim away from its shield. With a disabled pair of legs, the Seraphim nevertheless crawled forward with all the strength its feeble arms could muster. It approached underneath the distracted heavy mech and reached out to grab on the heat projectors.

The Seraphim succeeded in spoiling one of the heat projector's aim. It unleashed much of its molten fury harmlessly against the ground.

The other heat projector succeeded in hitting the Phantasm. However, the Phantasm suffered no damage beforehand, and with only one projector achieving a hit, the Phantasm maintained its ability to move. With a limping run, Triceratopssss succeeded in planting the enemy's flag right next to their team's unconquered banner.

"YES!"

"WOOHOO!"

"You interrrupted my duel!"

While his teammates cheered and grumbled, TheSeventhSnake sank back in his cockpit with a satisfied expression. He could feel the victory invigorating him even as he felt as if the excessive heat had cooked him into a crispy state.

"We won..." TheSeventhSnake smiled as he let out a warm and deep breath. "I'm getting better at this, though my Seraphim won't be happy I trashed it again."

Then he remembered someone had spectated him throughout the entire match. TheSeventhSnake opened his personal page and switched to his stream. He read out the name of his only spectator.

"Chasing Clouds. That sounds familiar..."

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Watching TheSeventhSnake's replays impressed Ves. The mech pilot's flamboyant piloting of his Seraphim showed a remarkable mastery of its capabilities. The Seraphim domineeringly claimed the skies, fighting particularly well against other fliers, and launched aggressive attacks against opponents on the ground.

Though Ves knew little of mech piloting, he still recognized TheSeventhSnake's remarkable skill. His aggressive play style and continuous risk taking hid a keen sense of timing. If this Snake wasn't at the threshold of promoting to Silver, he was absolutely in the upper tier of Bronze League.

When Ves noted that TheSeventhSnake had come online and entered matchmaking, he chose to spectate his match. What he saw of the young pilot's performance reaffirmed his judgement. Snake piloted the Seraphim in ways even Ves hadn't imagined.

"But does he have the X-Factor?"

Good piloting didn't necessarily mean one has the X-Factor. Disregarding the phenomenon's vague definition, the X-Factor might not even work in a virtual reality environment! Perhaps TheSeventhSnake was only a good pilot, and nothing more. Still, Ves believed it would be beneficial to his understanding of his mechs if he had a talk with the pilot.

When Ves initiated a call, the mech pilot answered immediately. "Hello. I saw you spectating my last match. Who are you?"

"I'm the mech designer who created the Seraphim variant you're piloting."

"Wow." The pilot gasped. "No wonder I found your nickname familiar. So you're the famous Fantasia customizer."

"I'm researching a new project, and I need some feedback from the people who pilot my older work. Can you spare me a moment of your time?"

"Yes!"

Ves was taken aback at TheSeventhSnake's enthusiasm. This was the first time since he became a mech designer that someone afforded him respect.

"Hey, calm down kid. I just want your thoughts on some stuff, so don't be too stiff." Ves told the player, hoping he wouldn't be paralyzed into silence. "Let me ask you my first question. Your records show that you've been piloting the Seraphim ever since you bought it. What makes you stick with the model? I think you must have realized by now that it isn't the best mech in its weight class."

TheSeventhSnake paused as he tried to formulate his words. "I can't describe it. I never thought about replacing my Seraphim. I love it far too much to get rid of it. The mechs that I've piloted before are all good machines, but they don't fit my style."

"What do you mean when you use the word 'style'?" Ves asked, wondering if it had anything to do with the X-Factor.

"My play style. My way of fighting. Something like that. The Seraphim just clicks with me in a way no other flier could. It's like we're part of the same brain wave. I can feel my passion engulfing the entire mech when I'm deeply engaged in a fight. No other mech can make me feel this good."

"Alright. Let me ask you something else. Have you ever experienced a moment where your mech gave you a push? For example, did the mech warn you of danger while you were unaware of it? Were there moments when you thought doing something was impossible, but you still managed to achieve it because your mech gave you a helping hand?"

TheSeventhSnake fell into silence. "I don't recall any moments like that. I'm always in full control of my mech. What I'm pretty sure of is I feel more at ease with the Seraphim. It's easier to play at my best when I'm piloting the Seraphim than with any other mech. I've even bought your Phantasm and Nomad models, but I never could get quite as comfortable when I play with them. Maybe it's the lack of wings. I've fallen in love with flying."

Ves asked TheSeventhSnake some other questions. What distinguished a good pilot and a great one? Are mechs better when they are smaller or larger? Does he believe in metaphysics?

The young pilot's answered revealed no surprises. The boy wasn't aware of the X-Factor, nor did he seek to pursue anything magical. Ves formed an image of the young potentate. Young, wealthy and well-trained, his view of the mech world had been colored by the many teachings of his tutors. It was therefore no surprise that they avoided telling him about the X-Factor. A young man like him had no business chasing after a fantasy.

"I have one last question." Ves wrapped up the interview. "Try to take a moment before you answer this. Do you believe your mech is alive?"

"Uhh.. I don't know." TheSeventhSnake replied with a confused expression. He scratched his head, trying to recall the times when he piloted the Seraphim. "I'm not delusional. Of course its not alive. The Seraphim's a great mech, but it doesn't have an AI as far as I know. What I can say is that piloting my Seraphim makes me feel more alive than anything else."

"Alright. Thank you for taking the time to tell me about your experiences."

"Goodbye. I hope I helped."

"You certainly did, don't worry about it."

"Uh, can I ask you something before you go? Are you going to put more 1-star mechs on the market?"

Ves shook his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't plan to do so. I've sold most of my 1-star licences so I can't construct any new 1-star mechs. My hands are kind of full trying to start up my real universe mech business."

"Oh, so you're a real mech designer? No wonder."

"That's not to say I still don't have a use for Iron Spirit." Ves responded carefully, naturally not mentioning that earning massive DP was his main reason for sticking around. "Once I earn some revenue, I'm transitioning to 2-star mechs. The profit margin is better in that tier."

He would also have an easier time to reach beyond his limited customer base in Cloudy Curtain. In a few months, he'd hopefully gain enough skills to produce a competitive design.

After shutting down the game, Ves stood up and stretched his limbs, mentally reexamining the interview. TheSeventhSnake spoke with a peculiar accent that reminded him of the officials working in the capital of Cloudy Curtain. Despite his good upbringing, the young potentate described his piloting in the same vague way as the veterans did when describing their incredible feats that others thought involved the X-Factor.

In other words, the interview provided inconclusive results.

Ves hadn't come much closer to understanding the elusive X-Factor. Was it some kind of energy that hid inside a mech? Was it some evolutionary catalyst that manifested in only a couple of pilots?

"There's one thing all interviews about the X-Factor have in common."

Love. Affection. Grief. Vengeance. Whatever was the case, most of the extraordinary performances mentioned in the galactic net were backed by strong and unrestrained emotions. It seemed unrelated. What do emotions have to do with the performance of a mech? That's like suggesting that an aircar can fly faster if the driver felt happy or angry. It made no sense.

"But an aircar doesn't have a neural interface." Ves remarked as he thought he found a clue. "The neural interface allows mech pilots to receive sensory input from the mech, allowing them to treat the frame like its their own body. Any decision a mech pilot makes is sent as output through the same interface, thus causing the mech to move according to its commands."

Ves went back to his terminal and sought out a few articles about the neural interface.

The neural interface was a highly restricted and highly controlled piece of hardware. Under no circumstances did any manufacturer allow the neural interface to leak out unnecessary signals. Excessive sensory input would overload a pilot's brains, while excessive movement output would cause the mech to lose control. The neural interface was strictly programmed to detect and block unauthorized signals, and technicians checked them frequently if they weren't tampered with. Pretty much every mech designer and technician trusted the neural interface to work as advertised.

"If thousands of industry insiders are sure there's nothing fishy with the neural interface, then its not the source of the X-Factor."

Emotions also elicit brain signals, and since those were different from the sensory and movement signals, they were explicitly blocked by the neural interface.

"But.. what if those signals are inseparable?"

Could emotions be conveyed through the same signals, therefor making it impossible for the neural interface to filter them out?

For example, if a mech held a sword over a fallen enemy, did its pilot's desire to kill his opponent get blended in with the same signal that commanded the mech to thrust down its sword?

If a mech spotted missiles flying in its direction, did an emotion like fear accompany its sensor signals of the incoming threat?

Unfortunately, Ves had no background in the neural sciences. Everything he learned about the neural interface in college was how to install it and how to maintain it. A designer had no need to know how the gadget worked in order to use it in their designs. This left Ves unable to answer this question.

"I don't think all those other people who have hunted down the X-Factor are that stupid. If someone like me can think of it, I'm sure they exhausted themselves to death trying to see if the neural interface was capable of doing more."

In the end, Ves was stuck again. With no solid theory on how to achieve the X-Factor, Ves had no starting point in designing a mech that incorporated it. With the huge interest payment looming over him, time began to run out for him. He could not waste the remaining days on a fruitless quest.

Lucky chose this time to barge inside. With a nonchalant walk, the mechanical cat dropped the shiny blue sapphire before Ves' feet. It then nuzzled his legs with its slim but lively body.

"Another gem I see. At least you didn't bury it in the backyard again." Ves picked up the sparkling blue gem and inspected it briefly before storing it in a small safe. "Good job, buddy."

Ves took a break. He picked up his gem cat and sank down on a sofa. He scratched the cat's metallic hide, not really sure if the cat even felt his fingers, but sure acting like it did. Lucky closed its eyes as it lay down comfortably on Ves' lap.

As he looked at Lucky, a strange thought inserted in his head. "Are you alive?"

The cat kept purring as if he didn't understand the question. But Ves knew the gem cat was smarter than he looked. It possessed an AI way more sophisticated than the thoughts of an average household cat.

"What is life?"

The age old question of life engendered a lot of controversy over the years. Many scientists mentioned that life had the ability to learn, adapt and reproduce. These clinical definitions of life try to encompass all manner of life, including even the tiniest bacteria. That made the definition far too broad to be of use in this situation.

Instead, Ves wondered if Lucky could be called a living being. Sure, he probably couldn't mate with another mechanical cat, but Lucky was no different from any other pet. Whether Lucky's responses formed spontaneously or through a large script of possible responses, it didn't matter. Humans worked in the same way if one pulled up their microscopes and sunk deeper into a person's cells and DNA.

"I don't care what the scientists and experts say. Since you're capable of expressing your emotions, you're alive in my book."

Ves was also pretty certain the key to unlocking the X-Factor lay in emotions. If Lucky could express emotions like Love, hate, fear and disgust, why not a mech? Certainly, a mech didn't possess the programming to ferment such redundant thoughts in the eyes of scientists. But what if a mech bypassed the neural blockade? It could borrow the pilot's complex neural system to form its own emotions.

Since the mech neurally connected to its pilot's brain, its emotions mirrored the pilot's own feelings. A mech's anger would neatly mirror its pilot's own hostility towards an opponent. This would only enhance a pilot's current mood and not display anything abnormal in the neural interface.

"I'm kind of reaching out there. How can a novice designer like me get it right while countless of experts missed this gap?"

At this point, Ves stopped caring about the opinions of others. He kept it simple.

"Lucky is alive. The System is also a living being. If these two entities are capable of life, then I believe that Mechs can also live."

If he presented these words to one of the researchers who studied the X-Factor for decades, he'd be laughed and ridiculed at. It was a stupid sounding argument that relied entirely on subjective anecdotal experience. But when he looked down and stroked Lucky's back, he felt no regrets.

"I can't phrase it in any better way, but my faulty logic doesn't matter. My belief is enough. My heart tells me I'm looking in the right direction, and that's good enough."

Now, Ves had finally obtained a somewhat coherent picture of the relation between life and the X-Factor. He felt as if a weight had disappeared.

"Now I have to put theory into practice."

Ves was ready to design a new mech. One that hopefully unlocked the X-Factor.

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Ves revisited the CA-1A Nero. He was never proud of the mech, even if he learned a lot about the Caesar Augustus when working on it. The small solutions he implemented in the Nero only helped him fabricate a less horrible Caesar Augustus. In that regard, he succeeded modestly. When Ves checked his sales again, he saw that the Nero had already been sold once for a whole 60,000 credits.

"At least I don't have to worry about paying for the raw materials of my next model."

The Nero always felt like a half-finished job to Ves. Now that he came back with a lot of new ideas, he wanted to revisit its design and see whether he could transform it into a mech that enables pilots to reach the X-Factor.

Ves opened up the Mech Designer System and switched to the Designer page. The Designer stored all of his old designs, so he pulled up the Nero effortlessly.

When he modified the CA-1's design, he made changes based revolving around reducing its cost and increasing its efficiency. He treated the Caesar Augustus as a robot and rearranged its internals without any regards to its presumably non-existent feelings.

Ves wasn't sure working like that was the right approach. In his beliefs about the X-Factor, emotions played an important role. While he still wasn't certain how to engender these emotions in a giant machine, he had some guesses he could try.

First, he theorized a mech designer's emotions and intentions played an enabling role. In other words, his own feelings bled over into the design and fabrication of a new mech. The clues to this idea came from remembering the circumstances of designing the Seraphim.

Ice-cold designers who barely put any passion in their designs could never spark a semblance of life in these mechs. When Ves worked on the Phantasm, Nomad and Nero, he constantly tried to maximize his gains while minimizing his losses. Though he was upbeat, he didn't put in an excessive amount of passion in his work.

Despite being overburdened with toys, the Seraphim had been designed in a fit of passion. Ves vaguely remembered the emotions he experienced back then. He became elated at his first sale, and the completion of his second ever tutorial missions. He received a windfall of resources and also got drunk on purchasing a lot of virtual component licenses. With such an affected mind, he got straight to work at designing a colorful mech that embodied extreme joy and passion.

"These all happened to be the same emotions TheSeventhSnake felt when he performed at his best."

Ves formed a bold idea. The alignment of the emotions expressed by the designer, mech and pilot determined whether they could produce the X-Factor. Almost every speculation about the X-Factor Ves had read on the galactic net only focused on the mech and its pilot. It almost never included the designer. Even if they did, they focused on the designer's physical objectives, not his emotional demands.

How can a sword in the hands of a warrior shine bright when the blacksmith forged it casually?

There was no proof for Ves' assertion that the craftsman mattered. As far as humanity knew, emotions weren't bundles of energy that had a definable existence in he material universe. It certainly sounded highly unlikely that when Ves designed and fabricated the Seraphim, he somehow embedded it with some sort of voodoo mental energy.

No. Perhaps the mystery lay in purpose and intent. The strong emotions of the mech designer sharpened his intent. A mech designed to break through fortifications would not only possess the physical qualities that enabled it to perform such a task, it would also be built carrying the designer's intent to succeed. Paired with a pilot who carries the same wish, such a mech crystallized the intent of all three entities in a single machine.

In order to gift the new Nero with a purpose, Ves first had to look back on the intent of its base model.

"The Caesar Augustus is a product of a young, spoiled mech designer's desire to show off." Ves concluded as he recalled the debut of Jason Kozlowski. "At the time, it was built to be the best all-rounder currentgen mech."

Jason obviously hadn't been modest in his demands. However, he possessed one thing many other mech designers lacked. "He was incredibly passionate when he designed the Caesar Augustus."

The heir to National Aeromotives made a bet that he'd produce the design in a month. If Jason spent only one month to come up with a completely original design with so much pressure hanging over him, the emotions that he carried over in his creations would be immense.

"I've done a disservice to the Caesar Augustus." Ves realized as he recalled the times when he fabricated the virtual versions of the stock model and the Nero. Even though he crafted them in a simulation, the life-like circumstances meant that the frustrations and difficulties he felt must have bled over to his end products.

"I need to adjust my mood. Redesigning the new Nero without emulating Jason's passion will just deliver another half-assed result."

Ves felt as if he was forced to go up to a stage and begin acting while he had zero experience. The only thing he could do is recall the times when he was still young and bright, before his moody teenage years set in. He used to dream of following in his father's footsteps and become a mech pilot.

"I was naive back then. Naive but happy." Much like how Jason felt thirty years ago when he just graduated from Estelon.

While he didn't succeed in summoning up a youthful and arrogant mood, Ves somewhat managed to instill confidence in himself. "I don't have anything great to draw upon in my past, but with the help of the System I can still dream of the wonders I'll experience in the future."

The Caesar Augustus' main attribute was exuding absolute confidence. Jason believed the mech he designed was the best of the current generation. It surpassed any frontline or elite mech within the same technological boundary.

Only the most advanced nextgen models carefully developed and kept hidden by the first-tier states could beat it in a fair fight, and those mechs were usually kept hidden from the public, employed only in the most frigid battles by the geniuses of the largest empires.

In other words, the Caesar Augustus had reason to be arrogant.

After matching his confident mood with the arrogant and narcissistic mindset behind the Caesar Augustus, Ves went to work making adjustments to the Nero. Naturally, in the perspective of improving the Nero's physical capabilities, he only had limited options. He hadn't learn any new sub-skills since the time he designed the Nero, after all. He also couldn't undo all of his work in the misguided intention to emulate Jason.

Instead, he sought to bring back the charm of the base model. Ves had originally smoothed out the minute incongruities Jason incorporated in CA-1's armor. He used to regard them as sloppy flourishes that added nothing of value. Now he noted the seemingly useless contours enhanced its domineering image.

Next, he payed attention to its internals. The changes he made to produce the original Nero were minor optimizations. They reduced the risk of catastrophic faults and made the mech easier to maintain, but the underlying idea behind the changes was that he made the mech more timid.

Jason designed the CA-1 to be a showstopping elite, focusing purely on its martial prowess and not nearly enough attention to its practicality. Ves somehow had to reconcile two opposite intents. One was the need to make the Nero more practical to maintain and repair. The other was to retain the Caesar Augustus' aggressive edge.

The way Ves decided to go about it was to revert a couple of changes and implement a couple of new ones. The Caesar Augustus emphasized confidence to the point of recklessness. The Nero emphasized self-preservation to the point of timidity. Therefore, the Nero Redividus should be focused on competence that its systems could take a better beating. Essentially, Ves left out much of the arrogance embedded in the base model.

Since he hadn't made any major changes, Ves finished updating his Nero after only half a day. After Ves added in the finishing touches, he let the System evaluate his redesigned variant. He aptly named it the Nero Redivivus, after a somewhat dubious legends that the Ancient Roman emperor rose from the dead. Ves imagined he succeeded in bringing his older work back to life.

[Design Evaluation: CA-1B Nero Redivivus.]

Variant name: CA-1B Nero Redivivus

Base model: Caesar Augustus CA-1

Original Manufacturer: National Aeromotives

Weight Classification: Medium-Heavy

Recommended Role: Elite Vanguard

Armor: A

Carrying Capacity: C-

Aesthetics: B

Endurance: D

Energy Efficiency: D

Flexibility: E

Firepower: B

Integrity: E

Mobility: D

Spotting: C-

X-Factor: E-

Deviance: 4%

Performance improvement: 3%

Overall evaluation: A customized design that barely improves on the original. While it is slightly easier to fabricate and repair, this variant offers barely any benefits. Rare among other variants, this design has not butchered the base model's X-Factor. Instead, it has retained a shadow of its presence.

[You have received 50 Design Points completing an original design of a last generation mech.]

[You have received 100 Design Points for designing a mech with a trace of X-Factor.]

"Yes! I did just enough to get it to work." Ves rejoiced, happy for reaching the finish line just as he put in so much work. The windfall of DP he received also helped. At least Ves received some indication from the System that his attempts to recreate the vaunted X-Factor succeeded. "I haven't wasted all of my time."

Ves waited for a moment, but nothing else had happened. "Uh, System. I've completed the mission. Won't you give me the rewards?"

[Please continue fabricating your design in order to complete the mission.]

Regardless of the Nero Redivivus' inadequacies, it offered the possibility to unleash the X-Factor, but evidently the possibility wasn't enough. He had to prove its existence by making the design come to life.

"I'm pretty sure the mission stated that designing a mech should be enough. Do you just want me to finish what I started?"

It didn't hurt to practice. "I might as well do it. But first, let's spend my DP."

Enough time had passed for his Fantasia variants to sell several hundred times, though their sales trend started to decline. And while Ves only managed to sell the Caesar Augustus and the Nero once, their higher tiers resulted in more DP when they were sold. Together with the DP he received as a reward for designing the Nero Redividus, Ves saved enough points to purchase the Mediumweight Armor Optimization I sub-skill in the Skill Tree.

"I'd rather purchase the 3D Printer Proficiency II upgrade since I still have trouble reproducing the Caesar Augustus' parts, but I really need to learn how to work with armor once I receive the new licence."

It was a matter of priorities. Without becoming more proficient in modifying armor, he might fail in adapting the new armor to the Caesar Augustus. He'd be wasting the valuable license if he botched the design.

He checked his Status again to see if anything else had changed.

[Status]

Name: Ves Larkinson

Profession: Novice Mech Designer

Specializations: None

Design Points: 74

Attributes

Strength: 0.7

Dexterity: 0.7

Endurance: 0.6

Intelligence: 1.2

Creativity: 1

Concentration: 1.1

Neural Aptitude: F

Skills

[Assembly: Novice - [3D Printer Proficiency I] [Assembler Proficiency I]

[Business: Apprentice

[Computer Science: Incompetent

[Electrical Engineering: Novice

[Mathematics: Incompetent

[Mechanics: Apprentice - [Jury Rigging I] [Speed Tuning I]

[Metallurgy: Apprentice

[Metaphysics: Incompetent

[Physics: Novice - [Lightweight Armor Optimization I] [Mediumweight Armor Optimization I]

Evaluation: Achieved a step into novice territory.

Surprisingly, he gained some benefits from his focused research. The long hours he spent reading and watching interviews rose his Concentration by 0.1 points. The scattered but varied theories he learned and formulated by himself also gained acknowledgement by the System, resulting in a new sub-skill called Metaphysics.

"Seems like you acknowledge that metaphysics has merit." Ves remarked coyly at the System. It didn't deign to reply.

Shrugging, Ves switched back to his Skill Tree and saw that the Metaphysics sub-trees were under a special condition. He spotted plenty of icons, but fog shrouded their names and descriptions. He also couldn't spend his DP to unlock them. He wasn't allowed to cheat his way into mastering the X-Factor.

This only underscored its value.

Well, he could figure it out later. First he had to fabricate the Nero Redividus in order to prove his assumptions and complete the mission.

"First, I need to get in the right mindset again. I can't treat the fabrication process as a chore."

He began work on fabricating the new Nero whilst keeping a confident, trusting attitude. This wasn't always easy to keep up for hours. Ves frequently took breaks in order to keep his mood fresh. This caused him to take twice as long to finish the Nero Redividus, but when he finally read through the testing and diagnostics of the completed model, he gained a pleasant surprise.

Despite his fumbling, the Nero Redividus had actually improved. Its construction went a little smoother, causing less sub-standard parts to pop up. This improvement helped along the assembly process, where Ves spent much less time wrangling ill-fitting parts into a whole.

"I'm finally done with this." Ves sighed. He visited his store page, removed the first Nero from his catalog, and added in the Nero Redividus to take its place.

The System finally gave Ves what he deserved.

[Congratulations for completing the mission. The road to understanding the X-Factor is long and bumpy. There are many destinations at the end of the road. Believe in yourself and advance towards the end point unique to you.]

[You have received a 10-year random medium armor production license lottery ticket. Please visit the Lottery page to redeem your ticket.]

[You have received a 200 ton medium armor raw materials package. Please visit your Inventory to open the package.]

Ves was already filled with glee. "My luck's been bad lately. The heavens must surely compensate me this time. Hopefully I won't encounter another pagoda."

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Ves waited for a long time to receive an armor production license. The good ones cost as least as much as an advanced mech license, but even bargain bin armor cost a pretty penny. Demanding a 100 million bright credits to license a decent armor system was considered reasonable.

Of course, if Ves was really desperate, he could license outdated armor or even stuff that was so old, its owners didn't even bother charging a license for its use.

The latter was useful if Ves made a civilian mech, such as a machine designed to lift containers in warehouses or sow crops in a farm. There was no way he'd ever implement such rotten armor in a combat mech. Any pilot that chose to bring such a poorly armored mech to the battlefield was asking to be sniped in a single shot.

Over the 400-year development cycle of mechs, the components that accompanied their designs also evolved over time. Lasers got more efficient, enabling them to deal more damage with less heat. Ballistic weaponry featured new iterations of propellants and explosives. Energy cells provided more energy to the mech with the implementation of highly energetic fuels and advanced batteries.

In the face of progressing weapons, a mech's armor had to match their pace. There were certain moments in mech history where firepower dominated over that period's armor level. Those were miserable times, where wars caused immense casualties to all the parties involved. In other times when armor easily endured against stagnating weapons, conflicts often dragged on into exhausting wars of attrition, draining much more resources than anticipated.

Only when the level of firepower matched the level of armor could mech battles remain short and limited. More wars started during this period, but they also ended quicker.

"Hopefully the lottery will bring me something average."

Ves had no desire to 'win' another good license. The Caesar Augustus was already bad enough. He did not want to compound his expenses with some kind of super deluxe armor plating that required special machinery to produce.

When the wheel of fortune showed up, Ves let out a relieved breath. "At least it's not the fucking pagoda again."

The only thing Ves had to worry about was getting an awfully cheap armor license. The Caesar Augustus required a certain standard of armor to work. Anything older than last generation was useless in the battlefield. Even certain newer alloys might not work if they aimed at the bottom segment of the market.

"Wish me luck, Lucky."

His gem cat meowed disinterestedly, not even deigning to glance at the holographic prize wheel. Despite his name, Lucky hadn't helped Ves gather much luck so far. He still had his uses though, so Ves just ruffled his cat's head and spun the wheel.

Clacking sounds echoed in the workshop as the wheel's pins clacked against the pointer. Various different plates of armor spun past too quickly for Ves to recognize their names.

After about thirty seconds of solid spinning, the wheel slowed down. Ves was able to read the labels now, but he failed to recognize their brands. "Way too many products are introduced each year. The names don't really matter. I only care about their capabilities."

The wheel dragged its heels for a couple of suspenseful seconds before it stopped. The pointer landed on a grey-ish piece of plate.

[Congratulations! You have received a 10-year production license of the following armor component:

Marlin Solutions 1004-HRF 5th Generation.]

"It looks a little cheap."

All Ves had to say it could be worse. As he studied the armor's specifications and sought more information on the galactic net, he realized his bad luck struck again. At least he hadn't suffered critical damage. The 1004-HRF was actually a bog standard piece of armor. It was also popular, seeing as Marlin opted to renew its formula for five generations. A favorite of small and medium-sized mech manufacturers, the HRF required a complicated manufacturing process to produce decent quality armor plating.

Decent quality for average second-line mechs, like law enforcement or planetary guard regiments. The 5th generation of the HRF thankfully qualified as current generation armor, so its fundamental specs weren't inferior to the mechs his cousin Melinda piloted at the Bentheim Planetary Guard.

The HRF's performance actually featured no unique strong points. Neither did it have any glaring weaknesses. It's main advantage was cost. Its formula used no exotic raw materials, just a large amount of widely available minerals and ingots. The HR in its name stood for highly refined, which meant it took a lot of energy to extract the useful parts of all those materials and combine them into a single plate. Thus, the production of the armor generated a lot of waste products.

Ves' comm unit pinged with the arrival of a new message. Just like with the Caesar Augustus, one of the System's shell companies sent him the production license for the HRF via the galactic net. After combing over the license agreement and finding nothing amiss, he signed it and sent it back to the fake institute. The System would take care of the rest of the paperwork, like registering his license at Marlin Solutions and the local branch of the Mech Trade Association.

He unpacked his virtual box of raw materials next. A huge set of containers got dumped in Ves' storage area, practically filling it up halfway. Opening them to take a look inside revealed neat boxes filled with ingots, minerals and powders.

"Damn. 200 tons should be enough for a couple of mechs with plenty to spare, if I had any other armor license. But the HRF wastes so much input that I'm not even certain I can produce enough plates for two mechs."

If Ves bought the 200 tons from the open market, he'd have to cough up almost twenty million bright credits. Processing them into finished plates of armor used up a lot of energy and a fair amount of time, so Ves also needed to pay tens of thousands of credits in his next electricity bill.

This was also why he appreciated the System's rewards for this mission. The materials gifted to him saved an enormous amount trouble. For most mechs, armor plating cost the most, due to its excessively high material needs. Other components such as the power reactor and engines demanded a lot of precision in its manufacturing, but asked a lot less of its materials. Their main value lay in their sophisticated architecture, which fell under intellectual property that the license already covered.

Ves had checked the price of a 10-year Caesar Augustus production license shortly after he first got it. Such prices weren't made public, so he had to visit a couple of mech fan sites to find a couple of estimates. The license's price supposedly ranged from 500 million to up to 2 billion bright credits.

"Jason stuffed his mech full with goodies from different companies. It's no wonder they all want a piece of the pie when he licenses out his mech."

That was the way business worked. It was extremely fortunate that Ves had earned the licenses through the System. If he had to resort to other means, he might have been forced to sign away his independence. For example, a competing manufacturer might 'lend' his leftover licenses if Ves sold a majority stake of his company's stock.

To any other mech designer, they'd feel fortunate if someone decides to invest in their startups. To someone who has the System like Ves, it'd be satisfying thirst by drinking poison. He refused to be shackled by anyone.

With only about four weeks left until the start of the Young Tigers Exhibition, Ves wanted to complete a viable design that he could show off to the elites attending the event. The manufacture and sale of any model based on the Caesar Augustus was still too difficult for Ves to achieve by himself in the limited time before he had to meet his interest payment.

Even though the base model could still compete with currentgen models, the Caesar Augustus only had a very small circle of customers. It was not viable to produce the mech first and put out a few ads on the galactic net to sell later. It might take years for some random pilot looking to buy a cheap elite mech to stumble upon his work. By then he'd already be bankrupt.

"No. It's better to seek out a customer first. I won't be wasting the remaining half month I have left. I don't want to do a fruitless job manufacturing a mech I'll never earn anything from its sale."

"Hopefully a lot of wealthy people will visit this year's YTE. Anyway, let's not put the cart before the horse. I need to get to work with the new design."

Ves loaded the Mech Designer System's exclusive Designer and looked at his available models. He considered iterating on the Nero Redividus, which would save him a lot of time, or start over from the base model. Both choices had their pros and cons.

"While I'm rather short on time, four weeks should still be plenty. What's more important is that I start designing a variant with the X-Factor in mind from the beginning. If I keep working on the Nero, I'll just muddle it further by blending in different emotions and intents."

He'd certainly be able to design a decent mech, just not one with a strong X-Factor.

"The X-Factor doesn't matter very much if I'm designing a mass production model. But if I want to sell something based off the Caesar Augustus, I need to tailor it to an elite who treasures his mech as a partner. I absolutely can't be casual about this point."

With the base model loaded, Ves wasn't in a hurry to fiddle around. According to his self-made theory about actualizing the X-Factor, the intents of the designer, mech and pilot had to align. This sounded simple, but Ves wasn't designing an original mech. Instead, he adapted from another designer's existing work.

"What really happens to the X-Factor if a mech has multiple designers?"

The Nero Redividus showed that the X-Factor hadn't disappeared from the base model, unlike with the first edition of the Nero. This meant that if the intents and emotions of the two designers overlapped, the X-Factor would be preserved.

This fit in with his theory. But what if he had an opposite intent from the original designer? Say designer 1 has developed a mech design that emphasizes defense. Designer 2 comes along and makes a variant of the design that focuses heavily on offense. Would the opposing intents neutralize themselves, or would designer 2's intentions overwrite designer 1's original imprint? The truth might be a mix of the two, where designer 2's intent becomes predominant but in a diluted form.

"I don't have enough time to experiment with intents."

Ves chose to keep his intent simple, one that did not clash with the base model. "I want a mech that retains its dominance. Though it's too outdated to become a mainstay in a modern battlefield, it can still rule over civilian and mercenary mechs."

A warhorse. An aggressive mech that needs to perform at its best when the pilot needed to show off his prowess. It didn't need to stick around in extended engagements and try to outlast the enemy. It preferred to break through and smash any obstacles in its way.

He already had a name in mind for his new variant. The Marc Antony. A rogue and a bastard, he nonetheless served as a daring cavalry commander under some dude called Julius Caesar. He later became rivals with the guy who eventually got called Caesar Augustus, and died because he wasn't as competent.

"Sucks to be you, but I got to thank you for providing a fitting story to your name."

Marc Antony's history paralleled with how Ves envisioned his mech both in its role and its relation to the base model. The Marc Antony would be a cheaper and less armored version of the Caesar Augustus. It should retain or even expand on the aggressive arrogance of its base model in order to prevent its opponents from exploiting its weaknesses.

Now that Ves formed a strong image of his future design's purpose, he could finally begin working for real this time.

"Let's start with the armor. It's the biggest job by far, and I need to replace the original model's armor wholesale. This is going to take a while."

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Designing an armor scheme for a mech took a lot of skills and knowledge. Ves was frankly impressed by the young Jason Kozlowski's work in making the armor of Caesar Augustus look majestic while still doing its job. Of course, he also enjoyed limitless resources and help. With an abundance of processing power, Jason could easily layer the armor plates in a way that minimized the gaps.

Ves lacked a room full of processors ready to solve any problems by brute force, but the Mech Designer System came with its own perks. The Designer offered a number of simulations that showed how certain sections responded to laser fire or other types of damage. It simulated a mech's maximum capacity for damage. It also had a tool that showed how to disable the mech with the least amount of effort.

Using these aids saved Ves a lot of effort. Together with his newly gained Mediumweight Armor Optimization I sub-skill, he felt competent enough to start his job as an armorer. Rather than copying Jason's armor contours, Ves decided to remove most of it and start from the bare minimum, only keeping the ingenious ways Jason and his helpers kept the joints protected.

He started with the legs. For mechs, legs not only provided movement, they made sure the mech stayed stable. While the mech's engines devoted most of its power to supporting the legs, the limbs had to bear the entire mech's weight in addition to its own armor. The mech's legs were absolutely crucial to a mech's operation. Crippling even one of them might immobilize a mech, effectively achieving the same results as killing it. Protecting the legs was a top priority.

The Caesar Augustus enjoyed luxurious armor on its legs. National Aeromotives knew their business when they developed its proprietary armor. It offered excellent protection at a decent weight. Now Ves somehow had to keep his Marc Antony's legs protected while not piling up too much armor. Excessive bulk reduced a mech's flexibility and speed.

"The Marc Antony is a spear that breaks through obstacles. It needs mobility more than armor. The legs has to facilitate a charge. It doesn't need to be excessively nimble. The Antony doesn't pretend to be a light mech in that regard."

The Marc Antony featured slightly thicker armor, especially on its front axis. While it made the legs vulnerable to crippling strikes from the rear, it could take about 75% of a beating the base model's legs could endure. This was already very generous considering the enormous differences in price between Ves' newly acquired HRF and the original armor plating.

Next came the torso. The core of any mech, it features by far the most space for its systems. The cockpit, power reactor and engines all resided in the torso. This placed unparalleled importance on its protection, especially with regards to shielding the pilot inside.

Mechs were expensive, but potentates were rarer. Only 3.5% of the total population of humans possessed the potential to pilot a mech, but not everyone of them actively pursued a military career. Mechs could be gained fairly easy by spending enough credits, but pilots represented a limited resource that replenished slowly. Thus most countries treated pilots like gold but mechs like silver. The armor schemes of most mechs reflected this demand, making it the thickest part of their armor.

In keeping up with the Marc Antony's indomitable intent, Ves became bold when working on the torso. He pursued aggressive lines that largely mirrored Jason's own scheme, but added more bulk to the lower torso and shaved a bit of armor from the upper torso.

The upper torso of a mech usually housed the cockpit and some other delicate components that could fit by the side. Surrounded by the shoulders and arms, it took a lot to excavate the cockpit from the heavily armored chest. The lower torso housed the power reactor and engines. Their central position ensured energy and motive power could flow in all directions of a mech equally. Naturally, not all mechs followed this scheme. Some lighter mechs such as the Fantasia 2R swapped the positions around.

In the Marc Antony's case, Ves decided keeping its engines and power reactor working his main priority. The mobility of the mech must not be compromised. The cockpit still enjoyed adequate protection, but not to the exaggerated extent of the base model. The cockpit's frontal protection got reduced by as much as 50%, an inevitability considering the HRF armor plating's lack of exceptional attributes. Layering too many plates on top of each other not only wasted Ves' armor budget, it also threatened to upset the mech's balance.

Still, considering the HRF's much cheaper cost, it was a price worth paying in some situations.

Ves spent some time with the rear torso, but not too much except for thickening it a little bit. The Caesar Augustus possessed above average rear armor, but if Ves replaced it the same thickness in HRF plating, he'd turn the Marc Antony in a mech with its rear section dangerously naked. He had no choice to bulk up the rear, choosing to incorporate some subtle angles that helped deflect damage aimed at the cockpit or engines, but otherwise keeping it plain.

The shoulders deserved special attention. Jason's CA-1 employed shoulder launchers for long-ranged missiles. This wasn't anything unusual for mech designers who wanted to offer a long-ranged solution to round out their mech's deficiencies in that area, but Jason very clearly half-assed the attempt. The Caesar Augustus was not a mech that specialized in lengthier engagements at longer ranges, so it carried no room for additional missiles. In short, the launchers only fired the missiles in its tubes before they became useless ornaments.

He considered removing them. Sure, the launchers were relatively small and light, and didn't hinder the mech's mobility all that much. On the other hand, it added little firepower beyond its initial salvo and the addition of the system and its mechs meant its logistical footprint grew larger than what could be justified.

"Well, it's not like anyone has to stick to these missiles. They can easily change them to something to their liking."

These days, missile systems became a lot more standardized than in the past, where each manufacturer used different sizes to monopolize the sale of refills. The missile launchers employed by Jason came from a reputable manufacturer, so plenty of missile types could fit in. Shorter ranged missiles that lacked sophisticated guidance options packed a lot of punch, which might be crucial when employed with great timing.

He spent a lot of time refining the torso before moving on to the arms. Most humanoid mechs employed arms as their primary weapon platform. They required protection from harm due to their essential role in a mech's offense, but they also had to retain their nimbleness in order to operate their weapons as smoothly as real human arms.

Regarding the use of arms, mech designers generally chose from three different options. One was to keep the arms articulated like a human's, letting the mech depend on external weapons like pistols and rifles. Great importance is placed on mimicking the arms to its biological equivalent, sometimes achieving a synchronization of up to 99%. This allowed marksmen to fire their weapons as accurately as they could in real life without depending on aim assist and other guided aids, which provides a remarkable advantage in certain times.

Another route was to embed weapons in the wrists. Usually smaller and less powerful than handheld weapons, it kept the arms free to wield weapons while simultaneously offered additional firepower without detrimentally affecting weight and carrying capacity all that much. However, such weapons systems needed to be fed energy or other resources from the torso. Accommodating these needs weakened the arms internally and created more weak points. The wrist-mounted weapons also unbalanced the arms and made hand-mounted weaponry less accurate.

The third, most extreme way of employing arms was to replace the lower arm or even the entire arm for a dedicated weapon emplacement. This made mechs lose the ability to hold external equipment, but they gained a powerful weapon affixed to a stable platform. Mech designers generally regarded these designs as trying to marry a tank into a mech. Such a solution is generally employed on frontline mass production models. Larger Mech Corps made the best use of large numbers of uniformly equipped mechs and also had the most need for large-caliber weaponry that the weapon arms usually affixed.

In the case of the Caesar Augustus, Jason went with the wrist-mounted weapons. The laser cannons were actually high quality weapons even in the current generation. They provided a substantial amount of short-to-medium ranged firepower as long as the mech's energy lasted. They did have a tendency to overheat the mech, and with Ves' HRF replacing the base model's heat-resistant armor, the Marc Antony had a much smaller capacity to absorb the heat. Ves could only tune down the cannons to a lower default setting, allowing it to last a little longer.

The base model employed a sword and a shield as the mech's melee weapon. This lowered the demand for articulation, so Ves happily bulked up the arms in order to improve its armor and heat absorption. It stiffened the arms, but Ves did not place excessive demands on the mech's accuracy. Its laser cannons remained effective in medium range, only having trouble in closer ranges due to the ability for lighter mechs to circle swifter than a mech's ability to rotate.

This left Ves with the armaments. Made with the same materials as the armor, the heavy shield could endure a lot of damage at an acceptable weight. The valiant-looking sword possessed enough qualities to cut through enemy armor when it was treated slightly differently at the end of the manufacturing process.

Ves wouldn't be able to retain the original shield's design. It offered too little protection for too much weight. At its current state, Ves could either increase or decrease the size of the shield.

"The HRF plating is cheap, so I should employ the shield as a disposable object. The Marc Antony's main feature is its ability to charge and break through the enemy line, so I'll make it longer and thicker."

With the Designer's helpful tools, he reconstructed the bulky kite shield of the base model into a longer and slightly thicker tower shield. Taking inspiration from the equipment of the historical Ancient Rome, Ves emulating the iconic curved rectangular shields. When held in its armed position, the mech could cover almost the entire mech's length, protecting it from the knees to the lower half of its head. The specific length prevented the lower edge of the shield from bumping into terrain and also left the mech's eyes unobstructed by the upper edge.

The shield turned out to be incredibly heavy and was difficult to move, but it also covered a lot more area so it didn't need to. Made entirely out of cheap HRF plating, pilots wouldn't feel any heartache when they threw it away if it sustained too much damage or if the mech required a burst of speed. Ves was highly satisfied with the end result. The big rectangular shield fit heavy infantrymen more than cavalry, but Ves didn't bother reconciling these contradictions. He only borrowed the Ancient Roman theme to make his mech look cooler.

As for the weapon, the HRF was distinctly unsuited to serve as a sword material. Its composition focused fully on frontal protection, and couldn't retain an edge suitable for bladed weaponry. It also broke much easier when struck hard. He'd either have to change to a different weapon or keep the arm empty.

"The HRF only excels at cost."

Ves took the same approach as with the shield. He bulked up the mech's weapon and didn't bother adding any edge. He eventually ended up with a short mace with a bulky rounded end. Since the mech already carried quite a bit of weight from its armor and shield, Ves hadn't opted for something larger like a hammer or staff. Despite the mace's simple looks, it still dealt a fair bit of damage if the pilot put its weight behind its attacks.

"It kind of sucks. Too bad I can't afford another production license."

Even the virtual licenses cost too many credits for Ves to bother buying them. He had to hoard money for now in preparation for producing a real mech.

Only the head remained now. In modern mechs, the head housed the best sensors of a mech. It was a rather poor position for something so important. It stuck out too much. However, most humanoid mechs retained the head due to pilots massively preferring their main view to come from such an elevated position. Mechs that hadn't bothered with heads and moved their main sensors to the torso, the so-called 'Pangu' types, never really caught on in the market.

The Caesar Augustus featured an ornate head design that appealed to Jason's aesthetics. It housed fairly good sensors behind enough armor and embellishments to make them difficult to pick off by a stray shot. Ves hadn't messed around with the head too much, but he did add a dramatic touch by adding a vertical helmet crest, much like the cool helmets worn by the soldiers of Ancient Rome and Greece.

For its plume, Ves embedded the small Festive Cloud Generator at its neck. With some creative plumbing, he ensured the cloud generator's red vapor to erupt from the head crest in an even fashion. He put enough power in the ejection of vapor that it held onto its semicircular shape in the wind even if the mech moved around.

Having finished working on the exterior, Ves stepped back and beheld the entire mech. It matched what Ves envisioned for the Marc Antony. A medium mech carrying a heavy shield to facilitate its tendency for head-on and charges and collisions. Discarding the shield allowed the mech to regain its mobility, enhancing its maneuverability in melee combat and leaving a hand free for a spare pistol or knife.

Despite the long hours of fiddling with armor plates and figuring out the best arrangements, Ves enjoyed the entire process with the enthusiasm of a kid trying a new toy. The Designer's many tools allowed him to waste less time with boring calculations, leaving him more time to utilize his sharpened creativity to come up with aggressive designs. His work culminated in a mech that embodied Ves' intent of aggression, momentum, burst power and a little bit of flamboyance.

Whilst Ves expected the armoring process to be the most challenging job, his method of channeling his intent while he made his designs paid off. He was sure that others could have done a much better job, but he did a decent enough attempt that he could confidently say he hadn't wasted his time.

"Now, it's time to revisit the internals."

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A mech's armor defined the machine's appearance. The changes made to the internals might not be visible to outsiders, but it affected the heart and soul of the mech. His experiences in muddling around with the Nero and making more focused modifications with the Nero Redividus taught him a lot about the design philosophy behind the Caesar Augustus.

Ves already knew that Jason wanted to cram as much goodies in his frame as possible. This adversely affected the mech's internal integrity as any damage that passed by its armor could spark a cascade of faults.

While Jason relied on National Aeromotives' excellent armor to mitigate this issue, Ves had to make do with Marlin Solution's budget-focused 1004-HRF 5th Generation. Despite his best efforts, the Marc Antony's armor only withstood about a third as much as the original armor in the worst locations. The best places only matched the original armor by 80%, which was already extremely generous.

With an armor scheme that only protected the Marc Antony's internals by an average of 50% of the base model, Ves wondered if he should vacate some unnecessary components in order to make room for more structural support.

The internals of a mech consisted of every component underneath a mech's outer shell.

The internal frame that acted as the skeleton of the Caesar Augustus was strong and thick. It needed to be, as it sometimes came under intense stress due to the weight it carried and the attacks it bore when the armor was penetrated.

The highly durable synthetic muscles that controlled its limbs also took a lot of space, as an abundance of power was required to move the CA-1's generous armor.

The components themselves varied in their requirements. The cockpit, engine and power reactor all took up most of the space in the torso, but other systems such as sensors and processors had plenty of space in the mech's otherwise useless head.

The pipes and cabling that connected the components together looked thin, but added up together they made up a significant and important portion of a mech's internal space.

The original Caesar Augustus' models came installed with some truly fine components. Even though the mech was now considered last generation, the quality of its numerous components allowed the mech to overcome most current generation frontline models as long as its energy lasted. However, this led to the CA-1's internal space becoming congested by cabling as all those components needed to be connected to the engines, power reactor, cockpit or more. It exceeded all the recommended safety margins Ves learned in college.

The mech only supported so much weight. The Caesar Augustus had been classified as a medium mech. Such mechs were the mainstays of battles, able to dodge slow attacks and tank the lighter ones. To retain the minimum amount of mobility required to pilot the mech in such a manner, Jason already stretched the Caesar Augustus to its maximum limits.

Any heavier and the mech would end up into an uncomfortable weight class beyond mediumweight but lighter than heavyweight. It was hardly able to dodge most attacks, but its armor couldn't endure against a sustained assault.

Ves mulled the difficult problem of solving the mech's internal structure while keeping his mech effective in performing its role.

"The Marc Antony is aggressive. As long as it's able to charge at the enemy and thump them in the opening moments, it's sufficient. Battles of attrition and extended engagements are not its specialties. The mech doesn't demand too much endurance."

His first internal modification was to make the painful decision to remove 15% of the mech's energy cells. This reduced the mech's ability to sustain a pitched battle, but it freed up quite a bit of space.

Mechs generally featured two kinds of energy cells. The most often used cells acted as batteries or capacitors with a fair amount of readily available energy. These battery type cells could be used to power a high-intensity laser cannon, allowing the weapon to fire in quick succession as it drained power very fast. Battery cells generally were employed on mechs that depended highly on energy weapons and were expected to fight short but intensive fights.

Other types of energy cells carried fuels or other energetic materials. While these cells couldn't provide an immediate boost of energy to power a weapon, they provided a lot more energy for the same amount of weight and space. When these fuels were injected into a power reactor, the mech enjoyed a steady output of energy that could sustain it in a medium intensity battle for an extended time. This energy profile worked great for mechs that emphasized endurance and staying power, such as frontline mass production mechs.

The energy cells Jason used were high end batteries that provided the mech with a decent amount of instantaneous energy. However, once they were drained, the Marc Antony could only rely on its slower working power reactor. At low intensity mode, these usually provided enough power to keep a mech moving, but could not power anything else, such as weaponry.

Ves dared to reduce the amount of energy cells because he had also tuned down the wrist-mounted laser cannons previously. The weapons should last the same amount of time even with a reduced maximum capacity. Naturally, this came at the expense of a mech's total damage output, which many mech pilots placed an undue amount of attention on. It was also just plain uncomfortable knowing you'd run out of juice faster.

It nevertheless freed up sufficient space to rearrange some placements in order to optimize the extra breathing room Ves created. He carried out more extensive modifications than the ones he made with the Nero and Nero Redividus. With the older variants, he had to really force himself to squeeze maximum value out of every millimeter he moved something away. The larger buffer of space he had now did wonders in untangling a crowded internal space.

It was like rearranging a crowded suitcase, when you had stuffed it with clothes, toiletries and other objects to the point that it wouldn't close. There came a point when no matter how many tricks you pulled, you couldn't reduce the volume any further. Simply removing a few unimportant items let the suitcase have a breath of air, allowing the owner to easily fill up any excess empty space and ensure the contents were distributed equally.

Ves kind of treated his design the same way. The energy cells didn't take up a lot of space, but removing a chunk of them still freed up 5% of the mech's internal volume. This allowed him to shift part A, making room for the shifting of part B, which made room for part C, and so on until Ves could finally untangle the highly congested portions of parts X and Y.

It took several days of constant work to rearrange the base model's internals. The modifications he made reduced the amount of weak points by at least half. The mech's ability to receive internal structure damage had improved quite significantly. Not to the point of calling his mech a zombie, but just enough to make up for the Marc Antony's inferior armor. Ves made sure to prioritize the most critical components related to the engines and power reactor. Above all else, the mech had to keep running.

The Marc Antony neared its completion. Ves had put the finishing touches on its internals and even readjusted some of the armor's contours in order to accommodate the changes. A faint and barely present sense of anticipation built up in Ves. In the end, he spent two weeks pouring much of his heart and soul into creating the Marc Antony. The mech represented his first foray into real mech design.

"Then why do I feel my design is incomplete?" Ves wondered as he zoomed out the mech's image in the designer. He felt a sense of incongruity that prevented him from finalizing his design. "There is something lacking about my mech."

This was the intuition Ves had recently acquired when he crafted based on intent. It guided his actions and decisions, not necessarily making him choose the most efficient routes, but always one that fit.

When Ves studied the mech's crest and the red plumes floating out of the narrow slit, he finally realized it. "It's the paint job."

The Caesar Augustus came primarily in white. Jason chose this color in order to echo ancient marble statues of majestic figures.

The Marc Antony lacked the regal air of a ruler. Ves instead molded it in the image of an aggressive vanguard. The stately white appearance felt out of place.

"Luckily the standard paints only cost a couple of thousand credits." Ves muttered, and went to work in the Designer's painting function.

He choose to dye the mech in black, and accompanied it with red and bronze accents. It contrasted nicely with the Caesar Augustus, and gave his own design an intimidating, bloodthirsty appearance. He dyed the shield in red as well, and added a couple of yellow stylized eagle wings and lightning bolts in homage to the historical Marc Antony's homeland.

Ves stepped back and viewed his mech in its entirety. The dark colors, the aggressive contours, the red vapor helmet crest, it all combined together in a mech designed for battle. It exuded masculinity. Where the Caesar Augustus stately appearance made it suitable to rally its subordinates in battle, the Marc Antony instead preferred to press upon the enemy.

It was time to finish the new design and let the System take a critical look at his work.

"I'm ready. Let's hear it System. Gimme your best shot."

[Design Evaluation: CA-1C Marc Antony.]

Variant name: CA-1C Marc Antony

Base model: Caesar Augustus CA-1

Original Manufacturer: National Aeromotives

Weight Classification: Medium-Heavy

Recommended Role: Shock Trooper

Armor: C

Carrying Capacity: D

Aesthetics: A-

Endurance: D-

Energy Efficiency: C-

Flexibility: E

Firepower: B-

Integrity: C

Mobility: D

Spotting: C-

X-Factor: C-

Deviance: 35%

Performance improvement: -35%

Cost efficiency: 60%

Overall evaluation: An acceptable variant of the Caesar Augustus. Though very lacking in its armor compared to the base model, it has achieved an admirable amount of cost savings over the original model.

[You have received 200 Design Points for completing an original design variant of a last generation mech with significant cost savings.]

[You have received 500 Design Points for designing a mech with a moderate presence of X-Factor.]

The System added a new parameter since the last time he received a design evaluation. Reducing the cost of Ves' first real variant had been a top priority for him, and it was nice for the System to acknowledge his intentions and take the time to judge whether he succeeded. Considering he made the mech 60% cheaper while only losing 35% performance, he had accomplished his aim.

Ves felt he had tasted what true mech designers called pride. In order to come this far, he gambled his workshop and his father's legacy. he rejected all other career opportunities and insisted on running his own business.

"This is worth every sacrifice I made so far." He said as he inspected the Marc Antony's design from every angle. This was a product of his own design. He could base his nascent mech boutique on the sales of this new design.

The invisible but potentially influental X-Factor was the single biggest draw of this mech. Ves devoted almost all of his time constructing his mech with a single purpose in mind. Though not a mech pilot himself, as its designer he felt the Marc Antony possessed a faint aura of aggression. His customers might not be aware his design could spark the X-Factor, but it remained a minor benefit even if they remained clueless about the X-Factor.

He was sure the Marc Antony could please his customers. The variant might not feature excellent specs, but it cost 60% less to build compared to the base model, allowing him to set a competitive price if he wanted to drive sales.

Naturally, he'd have to pay taxes and license fees for every mech he made and sold. Yet even the crumbs left over was sufficient to reinvest back in his business, allowing him to upgrade his machines and license more mechs and components. Even better, he'd gain more opportunities to earn a lot of DP.

"Hot damn. 700 Design Points. That's more than twice than what I'm earning in a week." And his existing sales also kept diminishing. The apparent craze about the Fantasia variants had run its course, and every young mech pilot that wanted to own a Seraphim, Phantasm or Nomad already bought them. This reinforced the notion that Ves always had to keep moving on. He couldn't rest his laurels after designing a successful mech variant.

"Also, I can earn a shipload of DP designing a mech that's still in use today compared to a hundred prehistoric mechs."

It made sense. Costs had risen while technology advanced and became more complex. The 400 year old 1-star mechs exercised the knowledge Ves learned in college, but he hadn't truly made any breakthroughs. In contrast, Ves learned much more about mech design when he worked on what Iron Spirit considered a 5-star mech.

With the points he already saved up, Ves possessed just over a thousand DP. It represented an unexpected windfall, and opened up many goodies in the System Store.

"Lottery tickets, attribute candies, I can even buy a brand new 3D printer for my workshop." Ves muttered to himself as he gulped his saliva. "There's even a time capsule that allows me to slow time by two times. How crazy is that? The System's so powerful it can even affect spacetime."

Perhaps the System wasn't bluffing when it boasted it was omnipotent as long as it had enough DP.

He shook his head. "Gotta stop dreaming these fanciful ideas. I've already budgeted my upcoming DP spending."

With a reluctant and painful gesture, Ves bought the Assembly skill upgrade from the Skill Tree. A whoosh of energy burst in his mind as an explosion of knowledge started to press on his brain. He screamed in pain as he felt information he once read but never really understood become clear as day. Outside data also continued to stream in, settling into the deepest parts of his brain.

Ves breathed deeply once his brain stopped stampeding inside his skull. "I thought I did decently in my studies, but it turned out I was too ignorant."

Raising his Assembly skill to Apprentice level deeply impressed him of the power of the System once again. He imagined he went through school as an average slacker, only to trip on the ground and hurt his head, causing him to inexplicably turn into a genius. He learned so much about Assembly that it put his previous work to shame.

The benefit of learning a main skill was much more comprehensive than upgrading a single sub-skill like learning how to operate 3D printers. He filled a lot of gaps that fell in the cracks between his increased proficiencies in operating the 3D printer and assembly machines.

"I'm ready to bring this design to life."

Naturally Ves wanted to fabricate the mech. It was too risky to build up the mech for real, but constructing it in the simulated environment of Iron Spirit will allow him to test his product and iron out the kinks he missed.

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When Ves logged into Iron Spirit, he visited the support section in order to register a free virtual license. The game charged a lot of credits for the virtual license of the The Marlin Solutions 1004-HRF 5th Generation armor plating. Considering that anyone could make a living if they designed and sold even a halfway decent mech, the prices weren't unreasonable.

The support staff processed his request promptly. Ves had made this request before so they still possessed all of his information. After confirming that he possessed an authentic production license for the armor, he received his approval half an hour later. With all the paperwork done, he loaded the Marc Antony's design file into the virtual workshop.

"Let's get to working."

Still motivated from his previous evaluation, Ves had no trouble getting into the right mood. The Marc Antony embodied aggressive passion, so in order to keep its X-Factor intact, Ves entered a state of mild frenzy.

With the help of his much more comprehensive Assembly skills, he operated his 3D printer with gusto. Parts rolled off the printer as if he printed paper. It was not as if his skill in operating the 3D printer had improved remarkably. The reason for his increased fluency was that his knowledge base had increased. He knew better how to tweak the printer in such a way that it resulted in less problems when fabricating a particular component.

Rigid armor needed to be treated much differently than delicate sensors. Heat affected one procedure much more, while another fabrication process couldn't be done properly unless vibrations stopped. All these kinds of trivial details that Ves neglected to learn had come to the front of his mind. The ease in which he applied the newly learned knowledge impressed him of the power the System wielded once again.

Naturally, not every component came out perfectly. Knowledge did not necessarily translate to better tool use. It was like learning how to play a piano by studying a book. At least the armor plates came off without any deficiencies. The HRF required a lot of processing to produce, but all it took was time and loads of resources. As mass production armor, it had been developed in a way to make it easier to produce in bulk. Fabricating one set of armor plates for his mech was easy.

Ves moved to the assembler and worked to put the parts together. From the internal frame, to the components, to the artificial musculature, to the cabling and pipes, until finally he molded the last pieces of armor in their places. His Assembly skill allowed him to optimize the order in which he put the components together, avoiding a couple of difficulties arising from inconvenient spacing. Working with parts that lacked any major defects also helped smooth the process along.

Frankly, the fabrication process could still be improved. With his prior experience in working with the Caesar Augustus, Ves felt confident he wouldn't screw up if he had to fabricate the Marc Antony in his real universe workshop.

His biggest difficulty was actually sustaining the proper intent while fabricating the mech. Despite his best efforts, it took over a day of work to finish the mech, and it was impossible to maintain the same mood throughout the fabrication process. He took brief pauses whenever possible, but his time constraints urged him to keep working.

He nearly collapsed when his virtual workshop finished testing the finished mech. Lucky left his perch at the couch and bumped his head against his body with worry.

"Haha, I'm fine buddy."

The specifications sheet showed his mech possessed no faults. Only minor errors marred the mech's performance, but they only impacted it in a minor fashion. In other areas, the specs performed as expected.

"Now I have to set the price."

The art of pricing was a subjective and delicate art. The Caesar Augustus CA-1 sold for a default price of 50,000 credits in the in-game market. As Ves had built the CA-1 himself once before, he knew the game set the base model's cost of 'raw materials' at 40,000 credits. Without taking into account the cost of labor and the time spent to produce the model, Ves could expect a profit of 10,000 credits a sale just for pumping out the base model.

The Marc Antony cost a lot less to produce. Iron Spirit only charged Ves with 18,000 credits for the raw materials. He had to thank the HRF armor plating for that. The reduction didn't entirely account to the cost savings in reality, but that was because the fees associates with the licenses remained fixed. Even if Ves replaced every component of the Caesar Augustus with discarded paper and wood, he'd still pay several thousand credits at a minimum.

The Caesar Augustus only outperformed the Marc Antony by about 35%. If Ves wanted to set a price based on utility value alone, he'd set the credit price at about 29,000 credits. This provided Ves a profit margin of 11,000 credits, a significant improvement for a variant that's cheaper and faster to produce than its base model.

It's not all sunny though. Not all mechs were sold through credits. A lot of players spent their in game gold to buy the virtual mechs. The exchange rate between gold and credits was never fixed, as players with certain privileges could buy gold for credits, but not the other way around. The BSBH Corporation didn't want to lose any money on their game. This also meant that mech designers like Ves could not earn any real credits when players bought one of his designs with gold.

"Fucking greedy bastards. With the astronomical amount of revenue they're earning each year, they could spare the 0,01% of money they earn to remunerate the designers that work their asses off in their virtual workshops."

Ves was able to disable the gold prices if he wanted to. Plenty of elite designers did so in fact. These famed designers produced great works that sold well even if players had to fork real credits for their work. Ves had no fame or reputation to rely on to sell his products with real money, so he left the gold prices alone.

"With two weeks left to go until the Young Tigers Exhibition starts, I don't have the time to advertise my mech. I'll just set a reasonable price to keep sales going.

[CA-1C Marc Antony]

Tier: 5-star

Base Model: Caesar Augustus CA-1

Purchase Price: 425,000 gold (-50%)

Premium Price: 25,000 bright credits

The in game price of 425,000 gold was a steal for a mech with such a performance. However, even if the handcrafted version got sold, the automated mass production models still remained within tolerance at 850,000 gold. It was unfortunate that Ves wasn't exactly sure if the X-Factor still worked if the game took over production.

"It'll introduce a weak link between the trinity of designer, mech and pilot. The intent of a cold machine in charge of pumping out mechs and nothing else will pollute the emotions I've invested in the design."

Perhaps the design's impressive X-Factor rating of C- as given by the System might get demoted to a D or E rating. "It probably won't drop any further. My intent is so strongly embedded in its contours that some of it will likely stick even if the most unfeeling robots worked on my design."

And from what he understood, the game would be stupid to simulate such a tedious process. Iron Spirit merely copied the mech designer's handcrafted design, reduced the specifications a little, and slapped a doubled gold price for its efforts. In such a case, the X-Factor should retain a large amount of its potency.

"At least I hope so. X-Factor can't be measured as far as I know, and I'm still not completely certain it can express itself in a virtual game."

Ves planned to look it up later when his model got sold. He logged onto the galactic net to do his usual marketing routine. He left messages at message boards and online communities. Hopefully the mech received enough exposure from someone to make the first sale.

"All I can do now is wait on that front."

He checked his spending account and found he could afford to fabricate the Marc Antony again. Having nothing better to do for the next two weeks, he dove into the virtual workshop again to handcraft another mech.

"I'm going to need all the practice I can get. The more models I build, the better I'll be able to build the real version of the Marc Antony."

Screwing up in the virtual world only resulted in a few hundred credits worth of damage. Messing up in the real world might mean writing off a million credits if the mistake was costly. He couldn't afford to get tripped up by the more challenging portions of the fabrication process.

Meanwhile, many light years away from Cloudy Curtain, Ark Larkinson sat at his desk, processing the paperwork for the day. His comm unit lit up as he received a call.

"Heya uncle Ark."

"Melinda." The man smiled, releasing his hard-faced expression now that he spoke to one of his favorite cousins. "Since you're calling me while I'm still on duty, I suspect you have something that can't wait."

"Right-o. You know about Ves right? That he's recently received a pair of production licenses from god knows where?"

Ark frowned at the mention. The so-called Future Sons Technology Institution were run by people he'd never heard of, received donations from empty shell companies, and offered no means to apply for any of its grants. As far as the Larkinsons had found out, the FSTI was a cover for a third party influence. The question was who. The Vesians? The New Rubarthans? The Terrans? Ark dismissed those options from his minds. Ves was too insignificant to bother manipulating.

"We're still looking into this organisation. New Rubarthans can be remarkably opaque in their bookkeeping."

"They're running so many plots against each other that they've taken shady accounting to the highest level." Melinda grinned, not really worried about what was happening with Ves. "The kid is fine. The production licenses are held in his name, so the institute can't take that away from him now."

"Let's shelve this discussion for later. What did you call me for, Melinda?"

The woman's grin widened. "Ves finally did it. He just released a mech that looks like its going to be his first money maker."

"He was working on modifying the Caesar Augustus. That's not an easy thing to do. It's been only a month or so since he received the mech production license. When I checked on his progress, all he released so far were models with only marginal changes."

"This time it's different. He's successfully incorporated the HRF armor."

"That is.. faster than we'd expected." Ark replied, his eyebrows raised. "The technicians I consulted at the depot told me it's not simple to fully replace a mech's armor."

Though he lacked the technical background to understand the finer points in mech design, as a veteran mech commander he still knew a thing or two. If replacing a mech's armor with a different composition was so easy, then the market would be flooded with re-armored mechs.

In actuality, any seasoned mech designer could do the same, but they disdained playing around with customizing someone else's design. They'd rather work on their own projects, in order to avoid losing a massive amount of revenue paying licensing fees.

Melinda swiped her hand, causing her comm unit to send a document over to her uncle. "You should look at the mock up images and the spec sheet. It's an exceptional work for a designer as fresh as Ves."

"He has my respect so far." Ark nodded as his eyes swept over the specifications with a laser focus. "It's a shame what happened to Ryncol, but the sudden responsibility has done the boy a lot of good."

"Boohoo, my little Vessie is all grown up now. He doesn't want to cuddle with big sister Melinda anymore." Melinda mock-cried with fake tears. Then she resumed smiling. "Anyway, I'm here to borrow some credits from the family. I spent all my salary on some new digs, so I can't take my little cousin's mech for a spin. And you know I don't play Iron Spirit all that often so I don't have enough gold either."

"You don't have to worry on that account. Your uncle Kantor bought every single mech the boy released in the game and reported back to us of his impressions."

"Well this ain't one of Ves' practice designs. This is the real deal, a mech that Ves plans to sell in the real universe." Melinda slammed her fists together. "I think we owe it to him as a family to push along his sales."

"Your grandpa was quite clear on this, Melinda. We will only purchase one mech for testing purposes, no more."

"Then at least give me the credits to play-, ahem, TEST the new mech. I can do the job just as well as uncle Kantor."

"He won't be happy."

"Then he can buy the mech with his own money."

The two Larkinsons stared at each other over the comm, its signals instantly sent across star systems. "Fine. You'll have your credits. I expect a professional review of Ves' work. Don't try to slant things in his way."

"Sure, sure, I know how to do my job."

Ark slided his hands, opening up a small menu. After selecting his banking options, he prepared to send over some cash to Melinda. "How many credits?"

"Only 25,000 bright credits. It's a lot cheaper than his Nero thingie."

"That does sound cheap, for a variant based off the Caesar Augustus."

After sending the credits, Melinda bid him a quick goodbye, leaving Ark alone in his office and a terminal full of reports to sign off. He resumed reading the latest report, an intelligence update that remarked about the unknown parties being sighted near the country's border to the alien race referred to as the Basilisks.

As a commanding officer in the Bright Republic's Mech Corp, he knew more about the undercurrent running throughout this star sector the last few years. Explorers, mercenaries and pirates have sporadically shown up at the borders of an alien race they should not have any dealings with. It smacked of another third party interfering in their star sector.

Not that they'd find any evidence, and even if they did, so what? Unless it's the Vesia Kingdom or any of the other third-rate states, the Bright Republic couldn't afford to confront the bigger powers.

"The woe of a small country." Ark smiled ruefully. The issues concerning Ves paled in comparison to what was on his plate.

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Melinda Larkinson had a busy life. As a junior member of the Bentheim Planetary Guard, she spent most of the time on patrols or back at base learning the ropes. As she was determined to reach the pinnacle of mech piloting, she continually sharpened her skills by sorting out troublemakers and sparring against her fellow guardsmen.

A great number of business flowed through Bentheim, the economic 'port' of the Bright Republic. Due to a complex system of spatial distortions, spaceships had an easier time navigating towards Bentheim. This especially facilitated ultra-long-ranged FTL or faster-than-light travel. Put simply, a ship can travel directly towards Bentheim without making any stops in between in order to reorient themselves and cycle the FTL drive.

Humanity actually stole the FTL technology they use today from a long-exterminated alien race. Through hundreds of years of study and refinement, they have already pushed their knowledge base on the tech to its limits. Nowadays, to go from one end of human space to the other only required a couple of years of non-stop travel. The existence of FTL-friendly ports formed the basis that made this swift travel possible.

Bentheim therefore formed the economic heart that kept the Bright Republic prosperous. It also invited greedy eyes, such as their ever-present rival the Vesia Kingdom. Not content with their own port system, they always hungered to invade the Bright Republic's territory and snatch the strategic planet away for themselves. Some of trouble the Bentheim Planetary Guard had to handle could be traced to the covert actions of the Vesians.

Just the last month alone Melinda had to respond to several emergencies. One case was a lone wolf who took an illicit drug and went on a rampage with his heavy mech. Another case involved a family who fell into ruin in the past returning from the dead and taking on one of Bentheim's established family businesses. Then there were always the ever-present pirates skulking in the outskirts, ready to snap up a lightly defended transport convoy.

Though only in the service for four years, the amount of petty and not-so-petty conflicts she had to resolve numbered in the hundreds. While not a genuine substitute to the high intensity battles of a full-scale war, Melinda was able to increase her experience and sharpen her rough initially rough piloting skills.

Right now, Melinda finished her shift for the day. She deposited her mech at the hanger, waved the technicians goodbye, and left for the Guard's exclusive training center.

"Hey Melly." A fellow junior Guard pilot sidled up to Melinda. "What's up? I can see the smile in your eyes a light-year away. Got a date or something?"

Melinda huffed. "I wish Janet. Nah, I nagged my uncle for a few thousand credits and pried it out of his hands."

"Wow. And he let you do that? Must be nice to be a Larkinson." Janet held out her hand as if she was a crippled grandmother. "Spare some alms for a poor commoner?"

"Ouch!" Janet received a playful punch in return.

"Scram! I already have something in mind."

Melinda entered the training center with a curious Janet trailing after her. They skipped past the physical exercise rooms and entered the virtual simulation area.

"Oh, are you going to spar against someone again?"

"Not really." Melinda grinned. She picked a random simulator pod and hopped right inside. "I'm going to play a game."

"Iron Spirit? Haha, it's been a long time since I last logged in. I must have dropped down to the bottom of the Platinum League by now." Janet laughed with faint contempt. After all, playing a game never beat the real deal.

Shaking her head, Melinda was about to close the pod. "I'm not logging into the game just to fool around. Grab a pod and log into the game. Let's add each other to our friend lists. I'll show you what I'm about in-game."

Shrugging, Janet hopped into a pod, curious what Melinda wanted to do with a large bunch of credits. "Don't tell me she wants to buy a virtual mech? Is she crazy? If she wants to gain experience with advanced mechs, there's plenty of other programs installed in the simulators."

After the two young women logged into the game, they searched for their counterpart and added each other to their lists. Janet playfully hugged Melinda's virtual body. "I'm here now! Please tell me what you're up to now."

"We'll have to take a visit to the market for that."

They both entered the market, encountering a bustle of virtual avatars and computer-controlled personnel. Instead of approaching one of the many public access terminals to call up a shopping interface, Melinda led her colleague through the narrow streets of the simulated market city. She took a sharp turn into an alley and entered a small, rickety shop with a wooden door that almost seemed to fall apart. The interior hosted no furniture and almost appeared abandoned if not for the glowing blue ball floating in the room.

"Welcome to Chasing Clouds Mech Shop. How may I assist you, customers?" The default robotic shopkeeper asked the pair.

"Wow Mel, are you sure you want to buy something from this shifty store? I don't think the owner even bothered investing a single penny in this store."

Melinda just bumped Janet onto the head. "This store's owned by my cousin, dweeb. He's a little short on cash so he can't waste it on a frivolous expenditure like a virtual shop."

Most sales happened through the public terminals or from a mech pilot's exclusive room. The lively city and its many ancient-looking storefronts were only recent additions to the game. The BSBH Corporation wanted to increase Iron Spirit's appeal by facilitating social interactions.

"The only reason why I brought you here is so you can take a closer look at the Mech my cousin designed."

"Oh? This is the first time I heard of you having a cousin who works as a mech designer. Is it an original design?"

"How can it be an original design." Melinda shook her head as she navigated the menu provided by the shopkeeper. "It's only a variant, but it's also quite impressive."

With a final press of her finger, the dark and empty shop seemed to fade away into an endless starry sight. A mech gradually materialized in front of the two women. The Marc Antony revealed its dark and menacing visage to the two women for the first time.

"This..."

"My cousin calls it the Marc Antony. It's a cheaper variant of the Caesar Augustus. Impressive, huh?"

"Wow. And you say it's cheap? It looks just as grand as the original Caesar Augustus, just with a different flavor."

The dark armor plates, the blood-red shield with its lightning bolts and eagle wings, the various red and bronze accents, they all contributed to an image of unbridled blood lust and aggression.

"What's that cool looking thing at the top?" Janet curiously asked as she spotted the strange helmet crest and the red vapor spouting quietly from the slit at the top.

"Beats me. My cousin used the Festive Cloud Generator that's famous on his home planet to achieve this effect."

"Haha, he actually used a party trick on such a serious mech." Janet laughed, though she inwardly admitted that it added very nicely to the mech's flamboyant flair. "So what's its tier and how much for one?"

"It's a middling tier 5 mech, but it costs just 25,000 credits."

"Sounds like a good deal to me." Janet nodded. Despite not having logging in for a year, she still retained much of her knowledge of the game, including the going prices of virtual mechs. "If it's as good as the Caesar Augustus, then it's a steal."

Melinda swiped her hand, removing the illusion and returning the pair back to the shop. She went through with the purchase. "How can my cousin throw away money like that? He made a lot of changes, but the most important one is he replaced the stock armor with the 1004-HRF."

"The fucking HRF? That shitty armor the bean counters at the office loves so much? Wow, your cousin should win an award for using such a cheap material to make such a cool looking mech. No wonder it carries such a huge shield."

Once Melinda finished her purchase, the pair exited the store and they walked back to the central plaza where they could transfer to different areas.

"Give me 15 minutes so I can get the hang of my new mech. Let's head into a match after that, okay?"

"Sure, Melly. I need to go through my mech stable and make sure my mechs are still configured right. I haven't played in ages, after all. What game mode do you want to queue up for? I vote for the 2v2 Arena."

Melinda shook her head. "I won't be able to play the Marc Antony to its fullest potential in an arena match. Let's queue up for the Wartorn Instances."

"Damn, sister, so you wanna jump straight into it. I'll go prepare a long-ranged support mech for you then, because you'll need the cover."

As Janet left to sort out her neglected game account, Melinda entered her mech stable and walked to the stall where her new purchase awaited her entry. The dark mech emanated an invisible aura even as it silently stood inert.

"It feels as if I'm being sucked into hell." Melinda shivered a little, unnerved that a mech that hadn't even started up give out so much intensity even if she couldn't describe what she felt. "It's as if this mech is not a machine but a god."

Even as she closed the distance, the unease increased. She activated a lift to bring her up the cockpit that opened up from the chest. Like entering the belly of a beast, she slipped inside and strapped herself on the chair.

"It's just a mech and not a monster, so why am I being so melodramatic?"

She calmed herself down and booted up the mech. It came to life with a flicker, causing its golden eyes to shine like twin suns as various systems engaged their checks. After all the systems reported no errors, Melinda finally gained full control over the mech. It blew away the constant unease Melinda felt before. It was as if it was all an illusion.

"Okay now, I only have a few minutes to get used to its quirks."

Melinda dove into controlling her mech with gusto. After using the neural interface to connect with her mech, she felt as if she had become a giant filled with strength. The neural interface worked great, with no lingering issues unlike with older, second-hand interfaces.

The Marc Antony's shield overburdened her shield arm, throwing her mech out of balance. She carefully trod then jogged then sprinted with her mech, getting familiar with the angled posture required to move with her tower shield held in front. She then repeated the same motions only without the shield, just to see how much her speed had been affected.

The fifteen minutes came and went in a flash. Janet opened up a private conversation with Melinda. "Come on Melly, show me what you can do with that beast."

"Alright. I'm kind of curious as well if my cousin's work can stand up to a real fight."

The both of them paired up and entered matchmaking for one of Iron Spirit's larger game mode, the Wartorn Instances. It simulated real battlefield circumstances, as most mech battles between the smaller human states employed at least a few dozen mechs. Wartorn Instances usually played out as a team deathmatch mode with an impressive amount of players on each team, ranging from the standard 50v50 to a gigantic 1000v1000 during special events.

Since Melinda wanted to drop into combat immediately, she selected the fastest 50v50 mode. Only a couple of minutes were required for Iron Spirit to match them up with 98 other Platinum League players around the galaxy.

Iron Spirit customarily limited the matchmaking for Bronze League to a single planet or star system. Only until a player reached Silver, they'd be able to play with mech pilots from many light-years away, though in the lower leagues most of their teammates and opponents came from the same star sector.

Naturally, as career pilots, Melinda and Janet easily achieved their Platinum ranks, and had the qualifications to play in a league filled with veterans, e-sports athletes and geniuses.

As the large map started to load, the fifty players of team blue, evidenced by the blue glow encompassing the name tags above their mech's heads, came together in a large holding area.

One impressive looking flying mech had a small crown hovering over his name tag. He was the highest ranked player in their team, and enjoyed commanding privileges as a result.

"The name's Jaxon645, as you can read. I'm too lazy to form a plan, so you can do whatever you wan to do. It's not as if you're kids."

Janet and Melinda both shook their heads. Just because most of the players in the Platinum League were professional pilots in the real universe, didn't mean that leadership was unnecessary to win in the game. But it was usually difficult for fifty complete strangers to agree to a single person's ideas, so nobody really bothered to take over the vacuum in leadership.

So with an awkward silence, the fifty pilots waited silently in their mechs until the holding area opened up a ramp. It turned out they waited in a massive transport ship.

The lightest mechs already sprinted out the exit as soon as possible, leaving the slower medium mechs up next. Melinda in her Marc Antony and Janet piloting some kind of medium cannon-wielding mech both exited in the next batch, stepping foot into a muddy, cratered battlefield.

"Looks like it's Mud Planet. Hooray." Janet cheered without a hint of celebration. "It's going to be tough to hold a firm footing with all the wet soil. At least the bomb craters are able to provide some form of cover."

As if aware that running from one side of the battlefield to the other side posed many risks, their team stayed in place and started to entrench their positions. The enemy team must be doing the same as well. Only their light mechs have gone ahead, their nimble legs and adept piloting avoiding much of the hazards the muddy terrain posed.

A scout on their team reported back in the team-wide voice channel. "Enemy position spotted. They are backed against a small mountain. Impassable by medium mechs and heavier. My judgment is that they're in it for the long haul."

A series of groans escaped from many of the other pilots. While they had been dumped into a muddy flat ground that offered no geographic advantages, the enemy team lucked out and got deposited right next to a defensive position.

"We can't out-turtle them, so lets not bother." Jaxon645 said unwillingly. "I'm going to fly around and see how tall this mountain is. I might be able to snipe them from the top."

Thus, the nominal leader of the team left their starting position with a small crowd of other flying mechs following behind.

Melinda furrowed her brow. By taking away all their fliers, the ground mechs became vulnerable to aerial harassment. "Spread out or advance together?"

"The terrain's not bad enough to force us to spread out." A heavy mech pilot said, worried about getting ambushed from the flanks. "Let's not thin ourselves out too much and let the enemy pick some easy bargains."

"I agree. We've got a large number of heavies, so let's escort them to the front line."

Halfway to the frontline, the plodding mechs encountered an ambush. A deluge of long-ranged missiles rained down from the sky with the wrath of a god.

"Incoming! Dive for cover!"

"Goddammit, are our scouts sleeping?!"

The missiles accurately focused on two of their heavy mechs, bombarding them with so many explosions that only a couple of burning parts were left.

"There's another salvo!"

"We can't do shit here! Let's run back!"

"You retard, they're just going to keep shredding us with missiles if we turn back! There's no cover between here and our starting point. The only way we can survive is if we advance."

As another heavy mech got torn apart while another dodged in the nick of time, the team's channel devolved into chaos. Indignant at the inaction, Melinda felt her temper rise. She piloted her mech forward and banged her tower shield against the hull of a skittery heavy spider mech.

The noise deafened the arguments. "Look boys, our flyers are gone and our light mechs are asleep. We'll never get rid of the target locks on our mechs, so what's the point of running? I plan to charge at the enemy. Who is with me?"

Silence prevailed in the interlude between missile launches. The Marc Antony banged its mace against the side of its heavy shield, letting the clanging shake their minds awake.

"I asked, WHO IS WITH ME?!"

Now that everyone on the team turned to Melinda, they began to notice the mech's unusual appearance. It had an aggressive build, carrying a stylized tower shield and a bulky mace. The red vapor helmet crest lent the mech an ancient, authoritative air, as if they were facing a martial general instead of just another mech.

"WHO IS WITH ME?"

"WHO IS WITH ME?"

"WHO IS WITH ME?"

Janet stepped forward with her mech. "I am!"

Taking the opportunity to push the rest of her team into something other than sitting ducks, Melinda turned around and led Janet forward. "Follow me if you want to win!"

As if pulled by inertia, most of the medium mechs followed the strange black-and-red mech. The heavies struggled to follow in their footsteps. Soon enough, their entire team approached the enemy team's position like a wave crashing against a cliff. Lacking any fear, Melinda kept her bulky shield in front and focused her eyes for other ambushes. Her blood pumped faster as she relished the upcoming clash.

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The noise of battle echoed all around her as missiles kept raining down in salvos. Only now the blue team started to employ countermeasures. The medium mechs kept zigzagging while the heavies used their prodigious firepower to strike the missiles down.

Melinda and Janet skillfully navigated forward. They dipped in the many craters to spoil line of sight and hide behind cover in case snipers aimed at them. Though not high-powered weapons aimed at them, they received sporadic rifle fire from their entrenched opponents. Melinda resolutely shielded Janet from incoming fire with her shield.

"Their team's light mechs must be engaging the enemy scouts by now." Melinda noted as the missile fire stopped landing with unerring accuracy. Spoiled by their ECMs, the deadly payloads sprayed down in a wider spread, damaging many mechs but not to the point of wrecking them completely.

"What are Jaxon and his flyers up to?" Janet whined as she felt useless trudging behind Melinda's shield. Her cannon mech had no chance of firing back against an enemy hiding behind makeshift trenches.

"We're dueling their fliers. Don't bother us." The highest ranked player in their team spoke before shutting off his comms.

"Janet, you're too vulnerable if you go any further. Stay here and provide support, okay?"

As a trained pilot, she recognized her circumstances, so she nodded without a word.

Melinda already scanned the sight in front of her. "Open terrain. Trenches. A lot of ordnance thrown in our way. I don't think they want us close."

"No shit Melly. The only thing I can do is huddle behind a crater hoping they don't send arcing missiles at me. I really picked the wrong mech for this battle."

A heavy knight bumped next to Melinda, his shield outweighing even her own. "Hey, what's the plan?"

"We charge forward. Once we get in their midst, we can turn this situation around. At the very least we won't be in a one-sided slugfest."

"You heard her lads, follow us!" The knight-type mech yelled as he raised his hammer in the sky and lumbered forward.

Melinda overtook the heavy mech and kept her shield squarely in front. She checked her sensors to see if their team came with them, and when she saw they only kept plodding behind craters, she grew agitated. They were close enough for their rifles to deal a lot of damage. She clanged her mace against her shield so hard it almost dented the edge of the giant slab.

"Step on it! Keep running and don't stop until you get in their faces!"

Though she was just one mech of many on the field, somehow her eye-catching form seemed to attract more gazes than normal. Her red crest that made her appear as a valiant warrior inspired others to follow along. Most of them were veterans or expert players after all, so they knew how bad they had fallen into the enemy's kill zone. They put down their apprehensions and followed after the shield bearers at the front.

Perhaps recognizing that Melinda's mech led them forward, the enemy fire started to slant towards her position. She utilized her mobility as best she could, trying to weave to the sides in order to throw off their aim. Nevertheless, she wasn't as nimble as a light mech, so quite a few cannon shells and laser beams impacted her gigantic shield. One large-caliber cannon round even blasted the right corner of her shield into pieces, almost throwing her off-balance.

"Get on your feet!" The heavy knight player yelled as he interposed in front of her, taking the brunt of the volleys while she regained her balance.

"My shield can still take much more." She pushed past his trudging form and sprinted faster. "We're halfway. Just a bit more and we can pound their faces."

Melinda felt an overwhelming desire to crash in their faces. She forgot she was playing a game, she forgot that her real life wasn't at stake, she even forgot to take note of the Marc Antony in order to write a report. No, the only thing in her mind was to bull through their firepower.

Her HRF-plated shield started to crack from all the ballistic impacts she received. The laser beams exacerbated the damage by melting the cracks wider. The shield was thick but eventually the fact that it was made out of inferior metals and received a deluge of firepower couldn't prevent the bottom half from cracking away.

"Fuck!"

The loss of that section threw her off balance, and some sharp-eyed shooters immediately lowered their aim, hitting her legs. She could manage the laser fire, but the heavier cannon shells further threw her off-balance. Only through skillful piloting did she manage to stumble past the initial seconds. After she regained her balance, she charged forward and closed in on the enemy trenches. She raised her other arm and held up her mace.

"Bash their heads!"

Ragged warcries escaped the throats of the other players in their team as they finally closed the distance. They lost 9 mechs throughout the run, but they finally made it to the trenches where the enemy's ranged superiority ceased to offer a decisive advantage. The enemy team possessed a clear lack of close-ranged fighters. However, a heavy striker appeared before Melinda and fired his over-sized shotgun at her approaching form.

"I can still take it!" Melinda said with gritted conviction as she felt her tattered shield fall into pieces. She flung the remainder at the shotgun mech, causing it to flinch for a split second. Her mech's raised arm began to fall, allowing the mace to travel in a dangerous downward arc towards the enemy's head.

The heavy striker's shotgun crunched as Melinda feinted her attack, successfully deceiving her opponent as she slipped her mace further downwards and cracked his main weapon. However, the lunging strike left her open to a counter attack, an opportunity the heavy striker took as it raised both its arms. The glowing hot holes on top of the wrists spewed a gout of flame as searing as a spaceship's engine exhaust.

"Ahh!"

Melinda awkwardly rolled away, throwing mud and burning liquids in every direction. Just as the striker adjusted its aim, a barrage of cannon shells impacted its torso, pushing it back and spoiling its attempts to take its opponent out.

"Thanks Janet!"

"You're welcome!"

Before the other mechs in the trench ganged up on her, Melinda was determined to finish off the striker. She got into its face and smashed the mace against its left wrist, disabling the flamethrower. Still moving forward, she used her free hand to grab the mech's other arm, keeping it from turning the remaining flamethrower in her direction.

She then bashed her mace against the enemy mech's face to disrupt its main sensors before bashing lower in order to disorient the pilot sitting in the cockpit. The heavy striker's armor largely held against her mace, but the amount of force she was putting in strained the pilot to the point of almost passing out. The shock waves passing through the armor could be deadly in itself once it gained a certain level of strength.

Sure that she knocked out the pilot, Melinda dropped the unresponsive heavy and turned to face a pair of medium laser riflemen. They had qualms about firing at her when she stuck close to their ally, but its defeat left them with a clear line of fire. As she stormed over, Melinda raised her own fists and charged up the power of her laser cannons.

The three exchanged laser volleys. Both sides tuned up their weapons so the damage they all took caused a couple of systems to malfunction. Nevertheless, Melinda remained steadfast, closing the range until she got into melee range. The two riflemen discarded their rifles and unsheathed their combat knives, but before they could do anything, Melinda shoulder bashed one mech while pounding her mace against the other mech's grip, redirecting its path.

The mech that received the bash rolled onto its back, its knife only leaving a deep groove off the Marc Antony's thick front torso. It tried to retrieve a pistol to fire at her, but before it could do so her heavy knight teammate finally reached the trench with an awe inspiring jump that landed onto the fallen mech's leg, the many tons of weight crushing them into broken parts. The enemy mech was finished.

Melinda already turned her attention to the other rifleman, who tried to scamper away to higher ground. Melinda didn't let off her prey, pouncing forward in order to beat the fleeing mech with her now-battered and misshapen mace.

"Die!" She screamed as she crunched the mech's back plates into deformity. She took advantage of the gaps she created by firing the lasers with her other wrist, burning or melting tons of critical components.

Her team was about to overrun the enemy team, but a barrage of shells and lasers rained down from above. The unexpected attacks threw team blue for a loop, taking the wind out of their frenzied assault. Team red used the opportunity to retreat.

"So much for the top ranked player in our team."

"Fucking lone wolf! Go back to arena if you wanna play hero."

With no fliers left on the blue team, their opponents enjoyed complete air superiority. The red team's fliers flew so nimbly that it would take a lot of trouble shooting them down.

It was better to chase the ground pounders and finish them off first.

"Don't let the runners off!" Melinda yelled as she charged forward even as her mech received a couple of dents from the aerial assault. With a frustrated growl, she primed her shoulder launchers. With the amount of firepower the fliers were throwing in their way, she had little trouble establishing target locks. She instantly dumped her entire payload into the air. Not even looking at whether they reached their targets, Melinda detached the launchers from her shoulders, freeing up more weight.

"Suppressing their air power." Janet spoke over the channel as their team's anti-air started to support the team from the rear. Tracer fire from rapid-fire cannons streaked through the air while volleys of missiles tracked the elusive figures trying to cause havoc.

Unfortunately for them, the enemy successfully regrouped to a second line, where a reserve of fresh mechs took over from their battered teammates. The fresh round of volleys suppressed the blue team's advance.

"What are you guys standing for? Get going!" Melinda yelled as she spurred her own mech forward. The raised her half-wrecked mace with one arm while blasting the enemy positions with laser fire with her other arm. When the laser cannons overheated from the rapid firing, she threw her mace to her other hand and fired with the other wrist cannon.

The Marc Antony always carried heavier armor than usual among mediumweights, but the mech's armor started to show some cracks. Her left eye blew apart while her reactor's power generation reduced by a third. Nevertheless, she still managed to haul her mech to the second line with both wrist cannons blazing with excessive heat.

The enemy was ready for her. A sword wielder closed in while firing a ballistic pistol. The heavy bullets impacted her mech's damaged chest, exacerbating the damage and causing her to stagger a little. By the time the sword wielder closed in, his weapon already aimed at the gaps in the armor.

Melinda threw her damaged mace at the approaching enemy. The weapon bounced off the mech, startling it and slowing down its charge. Melinda took advantage of the pause to bounce backwards while firing her already stressed laser cannons. The lasers melted the sword wielder's frame here and there, achieving little effect due to the poor accuracy of the shots on the move.

"There!" She yelled in triumph as she picked up a sword from a fallen mech. With a weapon in hand, she met the enemy mech's second charge. With some ingenious manouvring, she deftly avoided the charge while parrying the opponent's blade. At the same time, she extended a leg to trip the mech and succeeded. The mech sprawled in the muddy soil as gravity and momentum did their work.

"Who else!?" She yelled in the public channel as exulting in her triumph. "Is this the red team's best?!"

"Your opponent is me!" A grizzled voice called out as a sword down struck from the air.

A damaged medium flier slammed down with its entire weight supporting the sword. Having received the alert from her damaged but functional sensors, Melinda barely managed to dodge to the side, unfortunately leaving her mech's left arm and a part of the shoulder behind. Despite the catastrophic damage, the Marc Antony still maintained integrity, not having suffered too much loss in performance except for the missing limb.

"So you must be the one who tore our fliers apart." Melinda noted as she scrambled to perform whatever damage control she could from her sparking cockpit.

"I did my job." The flier replied as he detached the damaged wings from his mech's back. "Too bad my teammates on the ground are worthless. I'll just have to sweep you all myself, starting with you and your morale-raising antics."

"You must think highly of me if you think I'm able to keep this bunch in shape."

"It also helps that you're damaged. I'm here to finish you off."

Without any other exchange of words, the two clashed against each other, sword to sword. The flier possessed most of the advantages. His mech was nimbler and still possessed both arms. The pilot also revealed polished sword skills that could only have achieved this state through constant battles.

The ex-flier aggressively sought to tear the Marc Antony into pieces. It took all Melinda had focusing on defense and firing the occasional wrist laser to hold back the onslaught. The smart play here was to wait until Janet or some other mechs came by to lend a hand.

"I can't hold on." Melinda gritted her teeth as she admitted it. She threw away all her reservations and threw her mech forward.

The ace pilot reacted far too quickly, as if already expecting such an action. Melinda almost couldn't reach her opponent, so she exerted the utmost of her piloting skill and jumped her hefty mech forwards. The impulsive action caused her to impale her mech onto the enemy's sword. Nevertheless, she managed to redirect the sword strike into stabbing the less important components such as the energy cells. This left Melinda's remaining arm free to chop straight down.

The first chop split the flier's head in half. The second slash cut through the enemy's thinner armor and slashed the engines into a mess, immobilizing the mech. The third stab ran straight through the torso and out the back. Red blood faintly coated the sword as she had deliberately aimed at the enemy's cockpit.

With a tired sigh she surveyed the battle. With most of the enemy fliers suppressed, the battle between the ground mechs determined victory and defeat. Team red obtained a decisive advantage at the start by disabling many mechs at long range. Team blue evidently had the advantage in close-quarters combat, and dished out plenty of payback.

"Did we win?"

Not a lot of mechs remained. Shortly after, only one remaining mech from team red still stood on its feet. Melinda kept back as support, only firing her over stressed wrist cannon whenever an opening presented. A high-powered cannon shell ripped apart a damaged foot, causing the enemy mech to tumble for a bit. The mechs fending it off now pounced at it like it was a bowl of caviar. The last of the red team didn't make it through the dismemberment.

[Team Blue has won the match.]

Melinda rubbed her eyes as she came down from the high. "Is the game always this intense? I enjoyed this match way more than I thought."

Despite its ragged state, the Marc Antony performed well for a discounted 5-star mech. Even in its damaged state and missing an arm, the mech still exuded dominance, especially now that it left the battlefield. It was as if feeding the machine with the flesh and blood of its enemies allowed such a machine to grow.

"That's just nonsense." Melinda shook her head. "I don't know how Ves did it, but I actually want to hop back in and queue for another match."

Janet's voice popped up from their private channel. "You. Were. AWESOME!"

As Janet babbled in the many ways Melinda pounded her opponents into pieces, the girl in question still digested the previous battle. "I don't know why but the game has grown more realistic. I've been affected by the realism of this game."

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Now that Melinda got out of the high of super-realistic combat, she remembered why she stepped into the simulator in the first place.

"This mech... the specs aren't bad. It's a pity about the armor. It doesn't hold up in a large melee. The shield's also far too heavy for the scant amount of protection its offering."

Still, when she saw how few gold she had to spent to repair her mech and replace her shield, she smiled. The total amount she lost paled in comparison to the amount of gold she earned from performing well in that last match. She even received the coveted MVP award. The game really went all-out in retaining its older customer base with these tricks.

Janet whistled her appreciation as she read the score list. "Damn Melly, you went to town on them. You've personally disabled four mechs."

"Yeah and pretty much wrecked my entire mech in the process. At least I won't cry about the repair bill."

"You wanna go for another match?"

"Yeah. I need to get familiar with this mech. My little cousin did a good job with this machine."

"That's for sure. If your new mech is fully equipped with the HRF, then he has my respect. Half the red team fired potshots at you and you still made it through the end. I didn't know you were so gutsy for leading the charge."

"I got caught up in the moment, I guess."

She didn't know what made her enjoy piloting the Marc Antony so much. For a 5-star mech, its specs were mediocre and it clearly tried to do too many things at once. Yet when she hopped into its cockpit, she felt as if she embodied a war god ready to wipe out heretics. Its dark paint scheme and blazing red shield brought out the urge to go on the offensive.

"Janet, do you think the game's become more realistic? I hardly noticed I was playing in a simulator."

"Duh, that's because you're playing with the Planetary Guard's best simulator pods. They simulate movement and impacts with ship-grade artificial gravity."

"Hmm, maybe that was it. The simulator pods from the game center don't go that far in providing the most realistic experience."

The simulation pods of the Guard might not be the best in the galaxy, but they still provided excellent training opportunities.

The two queued together in another Wartorn Instance. This one was the map of the day, a 200v200 featuring a massive battleground with multiple objectives to capture or destroy. Matches could last up to two hours if both sides were evenly matched.

The matchmaking took a few minutes to gather enough players. Once it finished matching players, their team entered another lobby. This time Melinda ignored the posturing and smack talk between her more dominant team members. Trying to assert leadership of a group of 50 pilots was barely doable, but it almost couldn't be done with 200 unless you were famous.

"Let's stay on the defensive this time. I want this mech to last a little longer this time."

"How about the forward depot? We can refill our ammo and energy cells there if we need any, which you sorely do if I recall your mech's energy expenditure."

As the match started, the mass of mechs left the giant hangar and entered an urban combat environment. Modeled after an old Terran historically preserved city, most of the structures were only a couple of stories high. Enough to cover mechs at ground level, but not enough to provide significant protection if enemies shot at them from the air.

All 200 mechs in their team split up as they attended to their chosen objectives. Some players intended to assault a remote location, while others planned to defend a spot to the last mech. Melinda and Janet were joined by a gaggle of random mechs as they reached a small forward depot that represented one of the secondary objectives in the game.

"Our main win condition is to conquer the city hall, while the enemy team has to take over our military HQ."

The asymmetric conditions forced the two teams to adopt different strategies. The military HQ offered better repair and resupply, while the city hall possessed better active defenses. It encouraged the blue team to attack and the red team to defend. However, if the red team just kept turtling behind their walls, they'd run out of ammunition, energy cells and other resources. So the fight for the secondary objectives prevailed at the start of the match.

When they reached the bunker-like depot, the group of mechs spread out to form an effective defense in each direction. They needed no discussion to decide where they'd be best employed. Janet brought her cannon mech to a reinforced firing position just within the bunker. She had a great forward view while being completely protected from aerial attacks.

The first sounds of combat already rang out further in the distance. Scouts from both teams encountered each other, leading to limited skirmishes. A distressed light mech with a missing head suddenly barged the bunker's perimeter. Only its IFF or identification system prevented it from being blasted to pieces.

"They're coming! Eight mechs! Mediums and lights!"

The light mech disappeared before providing greater detail. Seeing that no heavy mech had joined their defense, likely due to the depot being situated too far forward, Melinda readied her shield and held her other arm ready to fire laser blasts.

The missiles came first. An arcing volley of missiles flew from a couple of blocks away and splashed against the surface of the depot, damaging its reinforced exterior. The second volley that came after got shot down by their team's anti-air. Subsequent missiles kept getting intercepted.

While half of their team preoccupied themselves in shooting down the missiles, a couple of townhouses split into pieces as a group of five melee mechs burst through. Their guns blazed as they focused their firepower on a rifleman. The structure it hid behind got smashed to pieces, allowing the enemy mechs a clear line of fire to heavily damage the rifleman.

Melinda kept her Marc Antony in the open, trying to offer an alternative target to the attackers. Unfortunately, they played it smart, keeping their attention focused on the more vulnerable ranged mechs.

"Hey! Over here buddy!" She indignantly called, and charged towards their position while firing half her missile complement. The projectiles successfully diverted the attention of one of the medium strikers, who activated its head-mounted rapid-fire machine guns to shoot down the missiles one by one. Nevertheless, Melinda made it through halfway by that time and her wrist laser kept pelting the striker, dealing moderate but sporadic damage due to the spread of her shots.

The striker retaliated with a barrage of shotgun fire, the pellets stripping the front layers of her shield. Nevertheless her shield held up against the attacks which could easily shred a light mech to pieces.

Melinda stopped firing her lasers. Instead, she raised the mace in her mech's grip and prepared to smash it down against the opposing mech's face. The striker responded by activating a wicked looking bayonet on his shotgun. As her mace came down, the striker dodged the telegraphed attack and thrust with its bayonet.

Grinning, Melinda rotated the torso of her mech, causing her unbalanced mech to haul its shield in an angle that neatly deflected the bayonet attack in time. She then leaned her mech's entire weight against the shield, pushing the striker off-balance with its weapon extended. A kick caused the shotgun to fly away, while the mace came around to smack viciously against the striker's face, crushing half its head. A few further whacks on the disoriented mech caused its cockpit to cave in, squishing the pilot into meat paste.

Her other teammates had the attackers well in hand by now. Melinda and another fellow striker kept the four remaining mechs to stall, leaving them vulnerable to medium and long-ranged fire from Janet and her fellow mechs. The opponents left another fallen mech behind before fleeing back to their lines.

The reprieve bought some time for them to get a grip on how their team fared in other locations.

"Forward depot is secure. Fended off a small raid."

"The fucking communications center is heavily entrenched. We ain't gonna capture a thing with a squad of heavies ready to rain missiles and cannon shells down on us."

"We were beaten back at the evacuation shelter. They took complete control of the civilians there. They're loading hostages. I can't make out which kind."

"The red team is up to something. If they're defending the satellites while hauling hostages, then they must be calling in reinforcements."

"Shit! We gotta stop them before they call in something nasty!"

"Yeah go ahead. Unless we divert at least 50 mechs to the comm center, we're not going to dislodge them from their cozy position."

"Well they're going to win if we're sitting around!"

"Relax. They've diverted so many mechs that the power plant is less secure. Once we take it over, we can pull the plug and say goodbye to all of their fixed defenses."

Melinda nodded as she understood why there hadn't been a second wave of attackers. She felt agitated at the lack of heads to bash in. Her mech wasn't made to sit around idly. "Janet, let's resupply and go."

Most of the mechs present at the forward depot used its ample supplies to refill their energy cells and ammunition. If an enemy came to attack, they'd be highly vulnerable. Luckily, no one came, and Melinda managed to refill her missile launchers and a couple of spent energy cells.

They decided to approach the communications satellites, which was currently under sporadic assault by their fellow team members. Missiles and other ordnance shot at the massive structures. However, most of the physical projectiles got shot down, while the lasers only caused surface burns against the surprisingly resilient antennas.

"It's useless trying to melt those antennas. They're built to last against a siege." One experienced pilot spoke over the comm. "If we want to deny them the comms, we've got to destroy the control centers or backup power generators."

"We need to get close somehow. It's too risky to go in by air or at ground level. Is there an underground access point on this map?"

"There are, but our enemies have mechs holed up behind a lot of barricades. It's going to be hell pushing through any of the tunnels."

"We've got no choice." Melinda said, already having a bad feeling about this situation. "Unless you want to keep dicking around trying to melt all the antennas with your lasers, we've got to do something to disrupt whatever they're up to. Let's meet up to the north access point."

Melinda left Janet behind. Her cannons wouldn't be useful in the tight confines of the underground. While Janet and her cannonneer stayed behind in order to provide supporting fire, Melinda gathered a ragtag bunch of mechs with the same thing in mind and entered the tunnel to the north of the comm center.

The dark environment only lit up with red emergency lights, too dim to provide effective lighting. Melinda and the dozen other mechs switched their sensor mode from optical to whatever night or dark vision they possessed.

Their scout went ahead at a faster but less noisy stride, disappearing for several minutes before sending back his observations. "Six light and medium mechs spotted at the juncture ahead. It's a warning post. They're going to make a run for it as soon as we appear."

"We're not built for stealth." A rifleman noted. "Let's focus on storming half of them while letting the rest go. It's gonna suck if they get off a warning, but I don't think we have any better solutions."

"Sounds alright to me."

"Ok."

"Let me go in front." Melinda insisted despite the presence of several light mechs in their mids. "I might not be as fast, but I'm the only one with a big-ass shield."

"Fine by us." One of the light mech pilots spoke. "You might stand a decent chance surviving their booby traps if they set up any."

With a short deployment plan set up, they barged through the tunnels and into a small open storage area. A few empty containers stood in the way between them and the startled enemy mechs. Some had evidently been playing cards or something, as they responded to the intrusion half a second slower than normal.

Keeping her shield in front, Melinda used her other arm to blast a few lasers at a missile-carrying mech. She managed to score a couple of hits at the same place, melting one of its launchers. Sporadic fire from her teammates caused the launcher module to take further damage, until a small shell caused the entire thing to detonate all of its missiles. The massive chain of explosions wrecked the missileer and disrupted the enemy's formation.

A few of the nimbler mechs dodged the incoming fire and successfully slipped away. However, the same couldn't be said for the medium mechs. Slower and easier to hit, Melinda's allies shot at their legs to disrupt their posture and prevent them from gaining speed. They eventually reached the outnumbered enemies.

Though everyone used their night vision, the eerie red glow of the Marc Antony's eyes gave the dark mech a grim facade. The vapor crest at the top of its head caused the medium mech in front of her to quail. Nevertheless, the pilot was a Platinum Leaguer, and he wasn't resigned to death. The enemy mech fired off an entire salvo of short-ranged missiles that blew back the Marc Antony, yet still the shield held though with half of its layers gone.

"You're going to pay for that!" She yelled and dove back in to bash the mech into a battered pile of components.

The other mechs finished off the remaining enemies. "Let's move on."

As they reached the end of the tunnel, they met with a stream of cannon fire. One of Melinda's teammates got hit in the leg, severely damaging his mech's mobility. "Shit! My left leg's a goner!"

"Make way!" Melinda yelled and surged at the front to hold her shield over the fallen mech. "Someone drag his ass behind cover."

"What do we do now? We haven't got enough firepower to contend against their cannons."

"Did you forget our objective? Push through no matter the cost!"

Without waiting for a reply, Melinda stepped forward and bravely took the lead. The other mechs hesitated before deciding that they didn't have another opportunity. They followed with gusto. Those with ranged weapons fired while on the run, causing very little damage to the cannonneers down the tunnel but it did force them to keep their heads behind cover.

As Melinda kept up her run, her mech continued to get hammered by shock waves as its shield received constant cannon impacts. It was tough for her to bull through the sheer amount of kinetic energy thrown in her way, but the adverse circumstances only made her heart pump faster.

"That's it. Keep firing on me. My mech can take the punishment."

The shield started to lose its square shape as the ends got shot off. Some of the shells even exploded against her armor, causing several cracks. Still, she successfully closed the distance before the cannons could do worse. With her halved shield, she bashed one enemy mech aside while her mace pounded against the cannon of another enemy, disabling the weapon.

Her opponent retaliated by throwing the useless weapon towards her, causing her to falter in her follow-up. The mech used the gap unsheathe the sword behind its back. By the time the sword slashed down at her, Melinda managed to regain enough balance to block the strike with her shield, causing it to split apart.

Angry at the loss of her shield, she fired a couple of quick laser blasts before pouncing aggressively with her mace. The lasers distracted the mech long enough for her mace to disable the enemy mech's sword arm. Her subsequent strikes successfully wrecked its four limbs.

The narrow confines and the barricades made it difficult for both sides to see how the battle progressed. Nevertheless, Melinda felt confident her team had the upper hand. She conveniently scavenged her fallen opponent's sword before hunting her next victim.

That was until a salvo of long-ranged missiles streaked from the dark. Melinda hastily jumped back and picked the recently disabled mech. Its IFF systems was still operating, so most of the missiles turned at the last second to acquire other targets or explode against the walls of the tunnel. She dropped the half-dead mech once the missiles had been spent.

"That was a neat trick." A surprisingly young voice echoed from the tunnel. "But I'm afraid that's where your luck will end."

The darkness made way for a brightly colored mech. Its white exterior showed no marks, and even its shield looked pristine. The tall and majestic-looking mech had held back so far, keeping it and a small squad holed up at the exit to the surface.

"Well shit." Melinda said, noting how her shield was gone and her armor looked cracked and scorched. "You're running the stock model?"

"Indeed I am." The pilot replied conceitedly. "I have no tricks. I find the original to be a pleasure to pilot, even in reality. You could say that I'm a fan. Just so you know, there's one thing I hate."

"And that is?" Melinda idly asked as she grimly readied herself for perhaps the toughest fight with her new mech.

"I hate impostors."

The sparkling white Caesar Augustus thundered forward with its kite shield in front and its other arm blasting an even more powerful salvo of lasers.

Melinda growled as she side-stepped the assault and retaliated with firing the cannons on both her wrists. She used her superior mobility and all the piloting skill she possessed to keep the damage to a minimum.

"I'm not afraid of you. Bring it on!"

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