Iron Rider

To delve into this, we must specifically introduce the "Iron Rider" system.

First, let's talk about mechas. In this interstellar era, technology has advanced to unimaginable levels, leading to a myriad of mecha models and types. However, they can essentially be divided into two categories.

One type is the agile and convenient single-pilot mecha; the other is like the mammoth, a large-scale field mecha developed specifically for warfare. Compared to the latter, single-pilot mechas are more lightweight, less costly, and boast superior maneuverability, operating solely through a neural connection. Field mechas, on the other hand, are bigger in size, equipped with thicker armor and more potent weaponry, and feature two modes of operation: neural connection and manual control. In most scenarios, neural connection is preferred, with manual control serving as a backup in case of connectivity issues.

The difference between the two? It's akin to the contrast between controlling a marionette with strings and embodying the puppet itself. Once the neural connection headset is worn, visual signals and sensory simulators activate, allowing the pilot in the cockpit to command the mecha as naturally as their own body, performing incredibly complex maneuvers with its heavy steel frame.

The second key point to discuss relates to this neural connection: the Mech Synchronization Rate. This rate, a complex indicator comprising numerous data points, is too intricate to detail fully. Simply put, it represents the depth of the neural connection. A higher Mech Synchronization Rate indicates a more complete neural integration, resulting in more thorough control over the mecha.

This innate talent cannot be detected by any instrument. The Mech Synchronization Rate of every Iron Rider is determined after they enter the mecha. Professionals calculate it based on the delay between the mecha and neural commands, the completeness of the mecha's movements, and the probability of successfully executing complex maneuvers.

Statistics show that most ordinary people have a Mech Synchronization Rate of around 20%. However, to become a professional Iron Rider, one must achieve a rate of at least 45%. This 25% gap may seem small, but it separates 99% of the universe's population, making the disparity between ordinary people and professional Iron Riders even greater than between amateur and professional athletes.

Given the low training costs and significant battlefield impact of Iron Riders, nearly all civilizations treat them as precious assets. Regardless of their rank, they receive life-extension treatments and a full range of benefits.

LCH, being an Iron Rider with an impressive 64% synchronization rate, should theoretically live a comfortable life anywhere. "If it weren't for the boss, my sister and I would have starved to death. My life has always belonged to the boss," LCH shrugged, offering Thomas an answer but not delving into details. Thomas sensed LCH's reluctance to elaborate and was about to resume work when a noise in the distance caught his attention.

Looking up, he saw a flying car rapidly approaching, eventually landing nearby. The doors opened, and several prison guards disembarked, taking up positions before two young prisoners in uniforms stepped down. One was a common human, while the other belonged to the rarer Thanos species, similar in facial features to humans but with green skin and a distinct tentacle-like appendage on their head. This appendage, typically limp, stiffens in extreme anger or excitement.

The tentacle on the Thanos person's head, once limp like a drooping braid, now stood rigid like an iron rod. LCH, with a grim expression, nodded in recognition and pointed at the two newcomers. "I know them. That human is Jet Lee, and the Thanos is David. They're also participants in the Capture the Flag battle. They're part of the group that caused trouble for Boss Simon. The damage to the Mammoth mecha during the melee was partly Jet Lee's doing."

"I see... You handle them then," Thomas said, patting LCH on the shoulder before turning back to continue his search. He was just a part-timer for Simon, aiming to survive and find a way out of Prison Nine. He had no interest in getting involved in personal vendettas.

"Wait a minute..." Thomas paused, his attention suddenly caught by something. He walked over quickly, just as Jet Lee and David approached LCH.

"Disen, I didn't expect to see you here," Jet Lee said with a surprised look, hands behind his back. "You're quite naive. Your mecha is already badly damaged; you're not still planning to compete, are you?"

"Why can't I?" LCH replied indifferently.

"You can, of course. I don't mind blowing you up again," Jet Lee said with a thickening smile. After five rounds of Capture the Flag, seven of the twenty mechas from the twenty sectors of Prison Nine were already out of commission, and the Iron Riders had become somewhat familiar with each other. Due to the rarity of professional Iron Riders and the generous benefits they received, even the grey powers above the Cal Star Nation couldn't find high-level Iron Riders to participate. Thus, vanguard-class Iron Riders like Jet Lee were already considered high-tier.

Among the remaining twelve Iron Riders, only three were on par with Jet Lee. LCH, however, stood out as a Major General-class Iron Rider, a rank higher than Jet Lee. Despite the evident disparity in mecha performance, LCH had still managed to snatch victory from their hands twice. Destroying such a competitor, though through dubious means, was a source of pride for Jet Lee. His only regret was that he had damaged the cockpit but hadn't eliminated LCH.

"Let's see who gets blown up this time!" LCH, bristling with defiance, stepped forward and glared at Jet Lee, nearly coming to blows but for David's intervention.

"Disen, still dreaming of blowing someone up? Can your mecha even enter the arena again?" David, with his green palms open, laughed. "You're just an Iron Rider. Even if you know a bit about mechanics, how can you repair a mecha without a mechanic?"

"Yeah, David's right," Jet Lee added with a sneer. "With your mecha so badly damaged, how can you compete? With your amateur maintenance skills?"

LCH suddenly chuckled. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I do have a mechanic!"

"A mechanic? Where?" Jet Lee's brow furrowed. The mechanic who was supposed to enter Prison Nine with LCH had been eliminated by the forces behind Jet Lee. Despite this, LCH had won two of the first five matches. If it weren't for the lack of reliable logistics, defeating LCH might have been even more challenging. If there really was a mechanic capable of repairing LCH's mecha, the upcoming matches would be even tougher.

"Right there!" LCH sneered, turning and pointing with a flamboyant gesture towards Thomas in the distance.

At that moment, LCH felt a surge of pride. He believed that with his weakness now addressed, he could fight Jet Lee on more equal terms. It was also a statement to his adversaries: he too had resources they shouldn't underestimate.

However, what followed took everyone by surprise.

Under the pale blue star, Thomas stood atop a mound of garbage, resembling a farmer toiling under the open sky, patiently searching for something. Suddenly, his face lit up as if he had found his target. He reached out eagerly...

Then...

Zap—Boom!

In a moment of rigidity, followed by seconds of convulsion, Thomas's hair stood on end. It was as if he'd been punched; his body jerked backward and he tumbled down the pile of debris.

"Damn it!" LCH's face turned pale with shock, and he forgot about Jet Lee and David, rushing towards Thomas in a flash.

"Thomas, Thomas, are you okay?" he called out, filled with concern.