Chapter 4 — A Fine Day for a Fight

They ran into Hormann again.And Bai Sha felt, from the bottom of her heart, that she and this musclebound, smug-faced man were destined to be at odds.

"..." said Bai Sha, silently.

"Well, well, teaming up with Jingyi and Yaning, huh?" Hormann gave them a glance, the kind that deserved a good slap. "Not bad. You three are made for each other — none of you gives people a moment of peace. Yaning eats like a black hole, Jingyi goes through clothes like a paper shredder. One's always hungry, the other's always fighting, ripping her new uniform apart in two days flat."

Yaning and Jingyi, both younger than Bai Sha, flushed with embarrassment at this very public roast. But they held their ground, eyes wary, as if preparing for Hormann to launch a sneak attack.

Hormann chuckled and, without wasting another word, tapped the glowing screen on his wrist.

"Today," he said with too much excitement, "we're gonna spice things up."

There was a roar in the sky — two slicing sounds like blades ripping through the air. Three silver robots came crashing down like meteors, so fast they left only streaks of light behind them. When they landed, the kids finally saw them clearly: humanoid machines, torsos like giant tin cans, arms connected by metallic tubing, and slick, multi-jointed hands that gleamed with dangerous precision.

Each one stood a head taller than Hormann. To the children, they were giants.

"Whoa, what are those?!"

"Hormann, someone's gonna die! I'm serious!"

"Beep. Beep beep."The robots powered on. Green lights lit up their eyes, and in cold, mechanical tones they said: "Training... commence."

The robots charged.

There were eight kids in this training group, all around Bai Sha's age. None of them cried or begged for mercy. They just scattered and ran.

"Target... locked."

One of the robots turned and targeted a fleeing boy. Its arm — the one made of metallic tubing — shot forward like a lasso, wrapping around his waist and yanking him back from dozens of meters away.

Bai Sha ducked and weaved through the chaos. She quickly noticed that the robots' heads didn't rotate — their field of vision was fixed. If she stayed in their blind spots, they couldn't lock onto her. Yaning had the same idea. Both of them zigzagged behind the robots, always staying just out of sight.

The robots would sometimes target them, but chasing either one required constant turning. And with their bulky bodies, the bots had a tendency to tip over. So, they often gave up and turned to easier prey.

"Not bad," Hormann said, completely relaxed, standing beside a growing pile of kids who'd been captured and gift-wrapped by the machines. "You're quick to figure out their weak spots. But that's not enough. This is a combat class, after all. You need combat instincts."

"Sir, this is just you being lazy!" Yaning shouted. "You brought robots so you wouldn't have to teach! I'm telling Lady Joan!"

The robots froze. As if triggered by some hidden protocol, all three turned to face Yaning at once.

Yaning, realizing there was nowhere to hide: "..."

Previously, the bots had worked independently. Now they shared one objective.

Six mechanical arms reached out for Yaning like a steel net. He bolted for the edge of the field, dodging left and right. Just as the arms struck out, he leapt into a corner, ran a few steps along the wall, and—bam! The arms tangled against the wall. He landed cleanly and took off again, sprinting back toward the center.

"Jingyi! Help meeee!"

Jingyi, in her white dress and black hair, stood calmly in the center, her pretty face touched by a trace of murder. She frowned, reached to her waist, and pulled out a small metal blade. It was just a box cutter — but Hormann's expression flickered.

Where did she get that knife?!

Jingyi held her stance, blade ready. She alone was fighting with the precision of a textbook martial artist, the only one using the actual skills they'd been taught.

Yaning dashed past her. In that split second, Jingyi jumped — thrusting the blade into a joint on a robot's arm. The machine didn't hesitate. Its limb wasn't broken. It still had a grip on Yaning. So it began to retract the arm, pulling both targets closer.

Jingyi clung to the blade, now her only anchor point. As the robot yanked its arm back, she sprang upward, stepped along its tubes, and launched herself straight at its eyes.

She'd been aiming for those eyes from the beginning.

But the other two robots had changed tactics. Instead of chasing Yaning, they turned back to help.

Just as her blade reached its target, two mechanical arms shot out and wrapped around her ankles.

"Ahh!"

The blade clattered to the floor.

Bai Sha glanced around. Three kids were already down. Including Jingyi, that left five still in play.

She lunged, grabbing Jingyi by the leg. "Help! Somebody help!"

Yaning scrambled over and threw his arms around Jingyi's waist, pulling with all his strength.

Jingyi looked stunned. Her face turned red as a beet. "What are you doing?!"

Honestly, she felt... kind of touched. But mostly mortified.

"I don't want to be yanked around like a turnip!"

"We're not letting go!" Bai Sha yelled, eyes squeezed shut.

The others woke up like they'd just snapped out of a dream. One by one, they ran over and grabbed onto each other — Bai Sha, Yaning, Jingyi — forming a makeshift tug-of-war team against the robots.

"One, two — pull!"

"One, two — pull!"

Someone had started a chant. It made them pull in perfect unison.

Jingyi: "...I've never been this humiliated in my life."

Ten seconds later, the robots' eyes flickered wildly. They stumbled... then collapsed, crashing into each other with a heavy thud.

Momentum slammed Jingyi into the group, where she landed in a tangle of arms and legs.

"We actually won!"

"Yayyy!!"

The kids sprang up, cheering, laughing, bruised and dust-covered, but ecstatic.

"Sir! Your robots aren't so tough after all!"

Then silence.

Despite their age, they sensed something off — why did these super-strong bots go down like that? That wasn't normal, was it?

"Well done." Hormann clapped lazily, then turned to Bai Sha. "You started the tug-of-war. Why? Don't give me that teamwork speech. I'm not buying it."

Bai Sha sighed, brushing off her shirt. "You want the real answer?"

Hormann: "Mhm."

He could've turned this into a life lesson about unity and courage, but... that wasn't his style.

"It's simple," said Bai Sha. "I don't think these were originally combat bots. Their torsos are too big, limbs too light. They look more like... storage units. Like something built to hold stuff."

"I also noticed the bottom chassis. Those treads? Perfect for mountain terrain. Not so great on flat ground."

"And the arms — very flexible, but not strong. If you ask me, these were mining bots. Built for picking up small bits of ore."

"And let's be honest: our orphanage is poor. No way we could afford real combat units."

The kids snickered.

Hormann coughed. "Alright, no need to spell that out."

"If they are mining bots, then they're top-heavy and easy to topple. Plus, their arms aren't made for pulling weight — just picking up scraps. So either knock them down, or break their arms."

"Tug-of-war," Bai Sha finished, "was the simplest way to test both theories."

Hormann squinted at her, smiling — all teeth, all trouble.

"Very clever."

He pulled a hip flask from his belt and shook it sadly. A few lonely drops. He sighed and tucked it away. "I pride myself on being an open-minded instructor. No matter what obstacle I set, I always leave a sliver of hope."

"These bots were modified. I had some parts removed. Made their flaws worse. Yaning, Bai Sha — you two spotted the weaknesses early on. That's good. But spotting them isn't enough. You have to act on that hunch."

He looked at Bai Sha again. "When you called for backup — were you sure you'd win?"

She blinked. "No."

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Worst case, we'd all get caught. Worth a try."

"Excellent!" Hormann bellowed. He turned to the group. "That, kids, is what combat instinct looks like. Sometimes, you won't know until you throw the first punch."

"That's what I'm trying to teach you. Not just moves — mindset." He tapped his temple.

"And Jingyi," he added, "you've got the best technique in the orphanage. But you only fight hard when it's a fight you know. Combat depends on the enemy. Don't chase obvious weaknesses — find the real ones."

Most of the kids looked a bit lost.

"...Don't you think this kind of training's a little extreme for our age group?" Bai Sha said weakly. Her arms were sore. Everything was sore.

"For most kids, maybe. But not for you," Hormann said with a grin that made her want to punch something.

"Bai Sha. Yaning. You're both invited to my advanced combat class. Same level as Jingyi's."

He winked. "But remember — you work around my schedule."

Bai Sha: "..."

Was no an option?