Simulated Starship Training

Thirty minutes into the Cimei versus Du'e battle, Jinfang Taibai had already successfully infiltrated the entire route's system. Since all ships in the game shared a unified system, his intrusion brought the entire convoy to a halt, and the two sides immediately clashed in a fierce space battle.

Cimei held a significant advantage in high-precision space weaponry, especially in battles involving mechs. Ye Yu, piloting Chi Ren, set up a sniper rifle and laid down suppressive fire on Du'e's command post. After half an hour of relentless bombardment, she successfully destroyed the ship carrying Jinfang Taibai and killed him.

The remaining Du'e forces resisted under Li Muyi's command, but they couldn't stop Cimei's advance. Although they prevented Cimei from pushing directly to the finish line, Du'e ultimately lost by a large margin.

"The real issue was that during the space battle, trying to hack both the route system and the command system at once spread him too thin," Jin shook his head. "Otherwise, Cimei wouldn't have had such an easy time dealing with Du'e."

Xu Xiqin nodded. "Actually, Du'e really lacks strong individual combatants, especially S-class mech pilots."

She reached out and poked Liu Zheng. "They tried hard to recruit you this year, didn't they?"

Liu Zheng nodded. In the end, she'd been swayed by Vice Principal Su's grand promises.

"If we run into that guy in a normal fight, we need to take him out first, or our command channel will be in chaos. Cimei won because Ye Yu piloted Chi Ren with the firm resolve to kill Jinfang Taibai," Jin rubbed his chin. "We have Liu Zheng and Shen Shouli who can do the same."

He paused and looked at Xu Lingqu. "You could do it even without piloting a mech."

Xu Lingqu tapped the table absentmindedly. "So what do you think of Cimei?"

"They're strong in space battles, but reportedly not as good on other maps," Jin replied. "Though we haven't fought them directly, so it's hard to say."

"Space battles really test the level of second- and third-year cadets, since most first-years haven't even learned starship piloting," Xu Xiqin said worriedly. "Our team has the highest proportion of first-years among all the academies. If we get a space map, we might be in trouble."

"Instructor Chen has already applied for the starship simulator room for us to learn. We should be able to go tomorrow," Liu Zheng added. "Lin Xiao told me."

Her information was always reliable.

Xu Lingqu nodded and concluded the review with one final remark: "Then I'll go learn tomorrow."

The next day, the other groups of academies were playing their elimination matches. Xu Lingqu had originally planned to watch the legendary Qingjun, but with the starship simulator room available, she set that aside for later.

Liu Ming insisted on following her, saying that since it hadn't been allowed to join the matches, it absolutely had to come along for the starship simulation training.

Xu Lingqu wore it in its ring form and hid the lifeless puppy form in her dorm before leaving.

The starship simulator was provided by the military. As soon as Xu Lingqu connected, Liu Ming appeared beside her—not as the silver-haired youth this time, but as a white-haired girl.

It had no gender anyway; turning into a human, a dog, male, or female was all the same to it.

Xu Lingqu walked through the simulator, which was modeled after the Wanderer. The military's internal simulation was far more detailed than the mech simulation provided by the Sky Network.

There were two seats in the cockpit: the left for the main pilot, and the right for the commander or secondary pilot if there was no commander.

Xu Lingqu raised her hand and brushed across the console's holographic screen, powering up the starship. The control panel was split into two systems: combat and piloting.

Liu Ming lunged at the console, its body dissolving into motes of light that merged with the system.

"Master, you can now connect your psychic power."

The military backend would receive information that Liu Ming would alter or erase, ensuring Xu Lingqu's true data never reached the military's databases.

Xu Lingqu gripped the control stick and felt a jolt in her head, like an electric shock, followed by a mild ache. The pain gradually subsided, and she found she could sense the entire starship's status and energy through her psychic power.

A thought crossed her mind, and the corresponding operation immediately appeared on the floating screen.

"Connecting to a simulated starship is said to be similar to connecting to a replicated mech, but when you connect to a real mech, the psychic strain and pain are greater—roughly double," Liu Ming dutifully explained.

Xu Lingqu's reaction to the simulated starship was minimal, thanks to her SS-level psychic power.

For an ordinary person—an A-class mech pilot barely meeting the threshold—learning to pilot a real mech would cause immense pain until the adjustment period ended and everything returned to normal.

Real starships were similar, though not as extreme as mechs, and within human tolerance. As long as one endured the adjustment period, everything would be fine.

Xu Lingqu selected a space route on the panel and began simulating starship piloting.

Liu Ming, inside the system, could technically take over the piloting system entirely for fully automated flight. In a space battle, it could serve as Xu Lingqu's ultimate trump card, handling both piloting and combat for her.

But Liu Ming didn't tell her this. It knew that even if she knew, she would never rely on it instead of learning to pilot the ship herself. At most, she'd use it as a support tool after mastering the skills herself.

Xu Lingqu was still clumsy at first, even on obstacle-free routes, and the ship wobbled. But she wasn't impatient; she simply restarted whenever she failed and kept adapting through repeated simulations, correcting her mistakes.

Liu Ming watched her enter a state of flow, improving with each attempt. As time passed, she began to push the starship to its top speed on clear routes and even perform complex maneuvers in open space.

Once she confirmed she'd grasped the basics, Xu Lingqu didn't rush to leave. She directly started challenging obstacle-laden modes, and only stopped when Liu Ming couldn't help but call out to her.

"It's dark now," Liu Ming said, transforming into a white electronic butterfly that landed on her hand.

Xu Lingqu took a moment to gather herself, realizing the day's training should end, and exited the simulation.

Her mind was still hazy and unfocused. She stood still for a few seconds before getting up and walking out of the simulator room. Pushing open the door, she found the outside had fallen into night.

Xu Lingqu stretched her sore arms and walked straight ahead.

Meanwhile, a staff member at the military's data integration unit for the starship simulator stared at a newly appearing data record in shock.

Where on earth did this freak come from, completing the Wanderer's piloting modes from beginner to mastery in a single day?!

And why couldn't the identity information be traced?!