Chapter 8: Are You Alright?

Speaking of which, it's necessary to delve into the Iron Rider system in more detail.

First, let's talk about mechs.

In this interstellar age, the technology system has developed unimaginably, with various models and types of mechs as numerous as hairs on an ox. However, they can be broadly categorized into two types.

One is the agile and convenient infantry mech; the other is the large battlefield mech developed specifically for war, like the Mammoth.

Compared to infantry mechs, which are lighter, cheaper, and more mobile with only the neural connection as the operating mode, battlefield mechs are different.

Battlefield mechs are larger, with thicker armor, stronger firepower, and two driving modes: neural connection and manual operation.

However, in most cases, the neural connection is still the preferred method. Manual operation is more of a backup for when the neural connection fails.

The difference between the two... well, it's like the difference between manipulating a marionette with strings and directly embodying the puppet to perform actions.

Once the neural connection helmet is worn, the visual signals and sensory simulators activate, allowing Iron Riders to command and even control the heavy steel bodies of the mechs as if they were their own bodies, performing many incredible and complex maneuvers.

The second point I want to discuss is related to the neural connection.

It's also the most direct data distinguishing ordinary people from professional Iron Riders:

—Mech Synchronization Rate.

The mech synchronization rate is a complex indicator with many composite data points. To put it simply, it's the depth of the neural connection.

The higher the mech synchronization rate, the more complete the neural connection and the more thorough the control over the mech.

This is an innate talent that can't be detected by any instrument. All Iron Riders' mech synchronization rates are deduced by professionals after entering the mech, based on the delay between the mech and neural commands, the completion rate of the mech's movements, and the probability of completing complex maneuvers.

Statistics show that most ordinary people have a mech synchronization rate of only about 20%.

To become a professional Iron Rider, the mech synchronization rate must be at least 45%.

Don't underestimate this 25% difference. It's this gap that separates 99.9% of people in the universe.

It makes the disparity between ordinary people and professional Iron Riders even more pronounced than between amateur and professional athletes.

Moreover, due to the relatively low training cost of Iron Riders and their significant impact on the battlefield, almost all civilizations treat Iron Riders as treasures, injecting them with 'life-prolonging elixirs' regardless of their rank and providing all sorts of benefits.

Curly Hair, as an Iron Rider with a high mech synchronization rate of 64%, should theoretically thrive 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..." Curly Hair shrugged, giving Eddie an answer but not going into details.

Eddie noticed that Curly Hair didn't intend to elaborate and nodded, about to resume his work when a noise in the distance caught his attention.

Looking up, he saw a flying car approaching rapidly from afar, eventually landing nearby. The car door opened, and several prison guards disembarked and took their positions before two young men in prison uniforms stepped out.

"Damn it!"

Curly Hair's expression darkened at the sight of these two.

"Do you know them?" Eddie noticed Curly Hair's change in demeanor and took a closer look at the two.

One of them was a normal human, and the other belonged to the rarer "Greenstick" species.

This species had facial features similar to humans, but their skin was green all over. Their most distinct feature was a tentacle-like appendage on their head, which was usually soft but could become rigid in extreme anger or excitement, transforming from a limp braid into a straight rod protruding from the head.

"I know them." Curly Hair nodded grimly, pointing at the two, "That human is called Carl, and the 'Greenstick' is David. They're also participants in the Capture the Flag battle. Their boss has a conflict with Boss Adam, and it was Carl who damaged the Mammoth in the melee."

"I see... you can handle them yourself then."

Eddie patted Curly Hair's shoulder and turned back to continue his search as Carl and the 'Greenstick' David approached.

For now, Eddie was just doing odd jobs for Adam, aiming to survive and find a way out of the Ninth Prison.

He had no intention of getting involved in personal vendettas between Adam and others.

"Wait..." Eddie mused, his gaze suddenly sharpening as if something caught his attention, and he strode forward.

Meanwhile, Carl and David had already reached Curly Hair.

"Dick, I didn't expect to see you here."

Carl, with his hands behind his back, looked at Curly Hair in surprise: "You're really naive. Your mech is already so damaged, you're not still thinking about participating in the competition, are you?"

"Why not?" Curly Hair's tone was neither warm nor cold.

"You can, of course, you can. I don't mind blowing you up again..." Carl's smile deepened.

Five Capture the Flag battles had already taken place, and out of the twenty mechs from the twenty sectors of the Ninth Prison, seven had already been scrapped. These Iron Riders naturally had some familiarity with each other.

Due to the rarity of professional Iron Riders and the generous benefits, even the grey forces above the Aether Prime galaxy couldn't find too many high-level Iron Riders to support their people in the competition. A Pioneer-level Iron Rider like Carl was already considered high-level.

Of the remaining twelve Iron Riders, only three were of the same level as him.

But Curly Hair alone was a near-General Iron Rider, a rank higher than him. Despite a clear disparity in mech performance, Curly Hair had still snatched victory from their hands twice.

Defeating such a person, even by underhanded means, did not diminish the sense of achievement Carl felt.

The only regret was that he only managed to damage the cockpit, not finish off Curly Hair.

"Let's see who blows up whom then!" Curly Hair retorted, stepping forward and staring straight at Carl, nearly ready to start a fight, only to be stopped by David intervening.

"Dick, you're still dreaming of defeating someone? Can your mech even enter the field?" David spread his green palms with a laugh: "You're just an Iron Rider, even if you have some mechanical knowledge, how can you repair a mech? You don't even have a mechanic!"

"Oh yeah, David reminded me," Carl added, his smile turning more mocking as he looked at Curly Hair: "Your mech is so badly damaged, how do you expect to compete? With your rudimentary mechanical maintenance skills?"

"Heh!" Curly Hair suddenly laughed: "Sorry, but you might be disappointed. I have a mechanic!"

"A mechanic? Where?"

Carl frowned.

The mechanic supposed to accompany Curly Hair into the Ninth Prison had been "dealt with" by the forces behind him.

Even so, Curly Hair still managed to win two of the first five battles. Without reliable logistics, it was uncertain if they could defeat Curly Hair.

If there really was a mechanic who could repair Curly Hair's mech, the upcoming battles would be even more challenging.

"Right there!"

Curly Hair sneered, turned, and pointed elegantly at Eddie not far away.

At that moment, he felt triumphant, believing his weakness had been compensated for, and he could now fight Carl on more equal terms.

It was also a message to his adversary that what they had, he now possessed too, and they shouldn't underestimate him.

However, what happened next was unexpected for everyone.

Under the pale blue star, Eddie stood atop a heap of scrap like a farmer walking through his crops, patiently searching for something.

Suddenly, as if he found it, his face lit up, and he reached out to grab it.

Then...

Zzzt—Bang!

A moment of rigidity, a few seconds of convulsions, and Eddie's black hair quickly stood on end. Then, as if punched by someone, he lurched backward and rolled down the rubble heap.

"Damn it!"

The scene shocked Curly Hair, his complexion changing drastically. He no longer cared about Carl and David and rushed toward Eddie.

"Eddie, Eddie, are you alright?"