Tian Xingjian immediately realized that it was that arrogant female lieutenant bringing people here to make trouble.
"Oh, I was wondering who it was, turns out it's the third beauty of the whole division, Miss Alice. What's up? The Combat Department has so much free time? Taking the Special Forces Camp for a stroll?" Rashid seemed to be at odds with Alice too. This guy looked simple-minded, but when he insulted people, he could twist his words without any profanity. Fatty immediately got the meaning behind Rashid's words. He particularly emphasized "third," clearly reminding Alice that, in terms of beauty, she could only be ranked third, meaning she shouldn't be so full of herself; there were two people prettier than her. The rest of his words obviously implied that the members of the Special Forces Camp were like dogs being led around by a woman.
"Platoon leader, where's my dorm? I've been smoked by mecha exhaust all day. I need to clean up." Fatty was naturally the type to say the most inappropriate things. This made Alice tremble with anger as she pointed at Fatty and yelled, "Fatty, you ran away because you didn't dare to compete. You're not a man!"
Fatty looked astonished and said in a deep voice, "How do you know I'm not a man? Did you peek at me while I was bathing? With something so big, you can't see it? Are your eyes out of focus?" Everyone around was petrified. They had never seen someone as obscene as Fatty, his shamelessness was outrageous!
Alice, too furious to speak, was cut off by the lieutenant colonel who smiled slightly and said, "The Special Reconnaissance Battalion only knows how to bully girls, really living up to their reputation. Even the newcomers are the same."
Fatty rolled his eyes and said, "Why are you bothered if I bully her? Is she your mom?"
"You..." The lieutenant colonel was rendered speechless.
Ignoring him, Fatty turned to Rashid, who was laughing so much he could hardly stand, and said, "Platoon leader, you better take me to the dorm. It's too noisy here; I have a headache." Then he mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, "When I stepped out, I thought seeing used sanitary pads was bad enough, but here I find entire sheets smeared with discharge, yuck!"
With a boom, the crowd exploded. The Special Reconnaissance Battalion laughed heartily, while the Special Forces Camp members were furious. It turned out the standard military hats of the Special Forces had a distinctive white ribbon around them.
In a fit of rage, the lieutenant colonel took a step forward, reaching out to grab Fatty's clothes, and roared, "Who are you calling a sanitary pad?"
Fatty, born with a knack for being a rogue, replied smoothly, "Whoever grabs me is the sanitary pad." As soon as he finished, the lieutenant colonel had already twisted a handful of Fatty's collar.
"Hahaha," the Special Training Camp members laughed uncontrollably, clutching their bellies.
Tian Xingjian thrived on such attention-seeking antics, especially when the conflict between the Special Reconnaissance Battalion and the Special Forces Camp was already out in the open. He knew very well where to stand.
Sure enough, the Special Reconnaissance Soldiers' looks at Tian Xingjian changed completely from top to bottom. This time they were genuinely impressed, for only this newly arrived deputy company commander could infuriate Special Forces Camp leader Grant to such an extent.
"Fatty! If you have the guts, beat me in a mecha fight! Stop taking advantage with your words!" Lieutenant Colonel Grant said through gritted teeth, tightening his hold on Fatty's collar.
Tian Xingjian bared his teeth, still acting recklessly, and glanced at the lieutenant colonel with disdain, saying, "Are you worthy?"
Never had Grant felt so humiliated. He was about to punch the nasty Fatty when a voice from the side intervened, "Grant, this is not the place for you to act wild."
It was the voice of the Special Reconnaissance Battalion's captain, Nadal. The soldiers of the Special Reconnaissance Battalion made way for him as Nadal walked in with his hands behind his back, looking disdainful, "Picking a fight with a new deputy company commander over a woman? Shame on you. Go back to where you came from; my canteen doesn't have bones to feed you."
Geez, it seemed the Special Reconnaissance Battalion was not short of sharp-tongued people. From top to bottom, none were pushovers. Tian Xingjian instantly felt a liking to this place.
Grant's face turned red and white with anger, and he gritted his teeth, "Since I'm here, I must see what your Special Reconnaissance Battalion is capable of! If you're afraid, admit defeat and make this Fatty apologize to Alice. We'll leave right away!"
"Hah, the Special Forces Camp leader competing in mecha combat with a newcomer? Do you find that interesting? How about you and I have a go?" Nadal didn't know Fatty's background, but he was well aware that this Special Forces Camp leader's mecha combat skills were among the best in the entire 16th Armored Division.
Let go of Fatty's collar, Grant spat fiercely on the ground, and looked at Fatty with disdain: "Fine, so I won't be accused of bullying a newbie. Dealing with a guy like you, one move is enough."
Tian Xingjian didn't get angry at all. He tidied up his clothes and put on that flattering expression again, saying to Nadal: "Commander, it's just killing a chicken. Why use your sledgehammer for this? It would be giving the chicken too much face. I'll go get my special mecha for killing chickens."
With that, Tian Xingjian darted out.
Grant laughed angrily and said to Nadal: "Alright, alright, it's his own request. Later, don't blame me for not holding back." After saying that, he jumped into the mecha that had been prepared long ago, waiting for Fatty to arrive.
Nadal and Hillard exchanged a wry smile, but after all, Fatty used to be a Mechanical Repair Soldier, and he was new here. Even if he lost, it wouldn't be too embarrassing. However, thinking about Fatty's shoddy mecha, the two couldn't help but feel a bit of a headache.
A few minutes later, a shaky Magic Beast Type III Mecha walked in through the door. Just as it entered, it tripped and fell, spewing black smoke from its rear. The mecha struggled to stand up, making a series of teeth-grating creaks as if the entire mecha was rusted. After a few steps, it collapsed onto the ground again with a loud thud, raising a cloud of dust.
Is this Fatty's special mecha for killing chickens?
All the soldiers of the Special Reconnaissance Battalion felt that the hope of winning this match was bleak. Grant was piloting the top version of a Seventh Generation Warrior-class mecha, the "Leader." Could a Second Generation Mecha possibly win in combat against a Seventh Generation Mecha?
The special soldiers who came to pick a fight with Grant all burst into laughter, thinking that even if Fatty had some wits, he had probably used them all up. But sitting in the cockpit, Grant was seething with anger. He vowed to himself that he would dismantle this show-off Fatty into pieces.
Fatty walked shakily, with the mecha making strange noises with each step. Some parts even emitted black smoke, and everyone doubted whether the mecha could even walk up to Grant.
Grant couldn't wait any longer. He thought Fatty was simply fooling around with a scrap machine.
"This Fatty must be taught a lesson," Grant thought fiercely. He drove his mecha forward.
Grant's mecha quickly approached the dilapidated, black-smoke-emitting mecha. Just when everyone couldn't bear to watch anymore, Fatty had another mishap. The mechanical legs of the dilapidated mecha seemed unable to support it any longer and it collapsed right in front of the "Leader's" feet. As Grant was slightly stunned, the dilapidated mecha's arms had already tightly grasped the "Leader's" ankles.
The broken mecha stood up again while the "Leader" was held upside down by it. Grant reacted quickly. The "Leader" twisted its body, and its mechanical arms reached for the cockpit of the broken mecha. He didn't succeed. Almost instantly, a series of clangs and clangs were heard, and parts fell to the ground like rain. The "Leader's" mechanical legs had been dismantled into pieces. Then, the broken mecha flung the "Leader" far away.
With a bang, the "Leader" smashed a pit into the ground. The Seventh Generation Mecha, stripped of its legs, became much shorter and struggled comically on the ground, unable to get back up.
The broken mecha's cockpit opened, and Fatty jumped down with a smile, clapping his hands: "It really only took one move. I'm no good at fighting, but dismantling mechas is my specialty."
Everyone was stunned. The mechanical legs of a Seventh Generation Mecha had almost instantly been dismantled into parts. Fatty still claimed he was no good at fighting; if this wasn't good, what was? Moreover, Fatty was truly despicable. Seeing the broken mecha later standing strong and dismantling the "Leader," even if those falls weren't intentional, the mecha definitely wasn't as broken down as it looked.
Fatty looked at the "Leader" still lying on the ground with a mischievous grin. As a Mechanical Repair Soldier familiar with mecha structures, he certainly knew the weak points of the "Leader." Using the sharp blades in the arms of a bipedal mecha and the mechanical assembly and disassembly functions designed for repair, dismantling two mechanical legs was easier than a butcher killing a pig.
"Hehe, who told this idiot to engage in hand-to-hand combat with a mecha? My blades are hidden in the mecha's hands. Getting tricked serves him right!" Fatty secretly laughed to himself.
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