Chapter 216: Evil Plans

Chapter 216: Evil Plans

Arix walked out of the dorm with a blank expression, ignoring the pitying looks from their other two roommates.

It was only when the hall started filling up with people that Quinnie finally stopped talking.

Finally free from Quinnie’s nonstop chatter, Arix let out a long breath and eagerly made her way to the training ground. No matter how tough the special training was, it had to be better than dealing with her clingy roommate.

When she arrived, Arix noticed the usual crowd of national mecha team, but today, there were also a bunch of Alliance special forces soldiers going through their own training. They seemed curious about the academy students, though their sympathetic looks were a little hard to ignore.

The military students, on the other hand, couldn’t help but admire the tall, imposing special forces. You could see the dreams in their eyes, imagining the day they’d stand as proud and strong as those soldiers.

Arix found herself glancing over at the special forces, too. But her attention was snagged by one soldier who stood out from the rest.

While everyone else seemed interested in the students, this guy couldn’t care less. He was like a lone sunflower turned away from the sun, indifferent to the world around him. The way he carried himself made Arix curious.

"Arix, who are you staring at?" Quinnie’s jealous voice broke through her thoughts. She followed Arix’s gaze and spotted the unusual soldier, the one who wasn’t paying the military students any mind.

Quinnie instantly jumped to conclusions. ’Oh, I see what’s going on here,’ she thought, narrowing her eyes. ’He’s probably just trying to play it cool to get Arix’s attention. How pathetic.’

With a sneer, Quinnie muttered, "Bet he’s hiding an ugly face under that helmet. That’s why he’s not showing it."

Arix rolled her eyes at Quinnie’s petty comment. She wanted to say something, maybe defend the soldier, but the words just didn’t come. Annoyed, she shifted her focus back to the military students, silently wondering, ’I hope the coach is someone decent.’



On the side of the Alliance special forces, one soldier had caught Arix’s eye, standing tall and completely focused. His face, sharp and refined, gave away nothing.

Next to him, his buddy nudged him playfully and said, "Zane, some pretty girl was just checking you out. She’s probably into you. Why not go get her contact number?"

Zane, who had been ignoring his friend’s teasing, frowned the moment he heard this. With a serious look, he turned to his friend and said, "They’re still students. Don’t joke around like that."

Seeing the stern expression on Zane’s face, Jaro knew his friend wasn’t playing. He quickly put his hands up in surrender, "Alright, alright, my bad."

Zane gave a slight nod and went back to standing at attention.

Jaro let out a quiet sigh of relief, glad he had avoided another lecture on military conduct. If he hadn’t backed off, Zane would have definitely started on one of his long rants about the rules.

Jaro couldn’t help but think that if it weren’t for Zane’s ridiculously good looks, his strict personality would make sure he never found a girlfriend—or a boyfriend, for that matter.

But that was just wishful thinking. With a face like Zane’s, he could probably get anything he wanted.

Zane noticed his friend’s gaze but was used to it, so he brushed it off. What did catch his attention, though, was the sharp, hostile glare he’d been feeling for a while now. At first, he ignored it, but when it didn’t go away, he finally turned to see where it was coming from.

He spotted a young woman with delicate, almost asexual features, glaring daggers at him. When she realized he’d noticed her, she raised an eyebrow in disdain and made a throat-slitting gesture.

Zane blinked in surprise. ’Is this the girl Jaro said was interested in me?’ She certainly seemed interested, but more in seeing him dead than anything else.



Rather than get annoyed by her threatening gesture, Zane simply nodded politely in her direction and looked away.

But what Zane thought was a courteous nod, Quispe saw as a challenge.

"Damn him," Quispe seethed internally. "Not only is he trying to steal Arix’s attention, but now he’s looking down on me too? Hmph, he’s got my attention now!"

As Quinnie mentally planned out how she would tear him to shreds, the coach of the national mecha team finally arrived at the training ground with Kellan.

Without any need for instruction, the students quickly lined up in three neat rows based on their height, ten people in each row.

Arix, being on the shorter side, greeted Cirilla before standing next to Deanna, who was about the same height.

Meanwhile, Quinnie, still fuming, took her place at the front of the girls’ line, her face dark with frustration.

Quinnie hadn’t expected this—what really set her apart from Arix wasn’t their instructor, their skills, or even their determination. It was something as simple as their height.

As Quinnie watched Arix, who was stationed at the back of the line because he was shorter, a wave of frustration and anger surged through her. Silently, she fumed, "Damn it!"

Meanwhile, Arix glanced at Quinnie, standing at the front of the line, and felt an odd sense of relief. A small smile even played on her lips.

With Quinnie no longer hovering around her, Arix could focus on observing their coach, feeling much more at ease.

The instructor was a man in his forties with a rugged face that only added to his intimidating presence. He stood before the group, silently assessing them for what felt like an eternity. The military students didn’t dare to make a sound, barely breathing as they awaited his words.



After his silent inspection, the instructor finally spoke, his expression stern. "Hello, students. I’m your instructor, Spears. To my left is my assistant instructor, Kellan Kering."

The students clapped politely after the introductions, understanding the significance of the moment. But Spears wasn’t one for niceties. He raised a hand, cutting off the applause with a harsh tone. "First, congratulations to all of you standing here. This means you’re now members of the national mecha team."

Pride swelled within the students, their chests puffing out as they took in the weight of his words. Making it this far meant they were the best of the best in the Alliance.

But their joy was short-lived. Spears’ sharp voice cut through their pride, "However! Don’t think that just being here means you can relax. Only ten of you will actually compete. That leaves twenty of you as alternates. And out of those twenty, we’ll only keep three as substitutes. The remaining seventeen? You’ll be sent back to your military academies, out of the special training, and off the national mecha team."

He spoke with cold precision, like a hunter sizing up his prey.

The thought of being sent back, after all the hard work and hope, sent a wave of panic through the students. The idea of returning home in defeat was too much to bear.

One student, braving the tension, finally found his voice, "Sir, we don’t want to go back." His words opened the floodgates, and soon others were voicing their agreement, determined not to be sent home.

For once, Spears listened, letting them speak. After a moment, he signaled for silence, then addressed them with a challenging tone, "I see your determination. But I expect your training to show the same resolve. Be warriors in action, not just in words. Now, tell me—can you do it?"

"Yes!" The students’ voices rang out across the training ground, filled with energy and eagerness.

Their shouts even caught the attention of the special forces soldiers nearby, who joined in with enthusiastic applause.

Spears shot a cold look at the soldiers, quickly silencing them. He turned back to the students, their faces flushed with the intensity of their shouts, and nodded in approval. They had spirit, and that was a good start.

Satisfied, Spears moved on to announce the day’s training, ready to see if their actions would match their words.