Chapter 7: Virtual Combat

The truck entered the city and headed straight for the eastern district, where a vast expanse of abandoned factories provided the perfect setting for clandestine activities. It was also the location of the Blackstream City underground fighting arena. Disputes among the surrounding towns and villages were often resolved here through bloody wagers.

Rumors circulated that the true owner of this underground arena was a prominent figure within the Expeditionary Army. In the Empire’s dominion on the Eternal Night Continent, the Expeditionary Army was an unstoppable ancient behemoth, the de facto emperor of these lands, and thus, no one dared to cause trouble in this arena.

Each of the abandoned factories in Blackstream City stood over ten meters tall, covering thousands of square meters. Five towering structures aligned in a majestic formation, a testament to the Empire’s former industrial grandeur. Built from alloy steel and concrete, these colossal structures had withstood countless battles, still standing tall.

However, as people delved into the study of primeval energy and developed the technique to extract black crystal from obsidian, the first-generation power sources, represented by obsidian and steam, gradually stagnated. No groundbreaking technological inventions emerged afterward.

The second-generation energy technology, which mimicked primeval energy by releasing black crystal energy, was known as primordial energy. This technology, however, faced numerous limitations, especially in the lower continents far from the sun and planetary belts, where primeval energy was weak. As the highest-grade driving force currently used by the Empire, it was naturally classified as a strategic resource, subject to strict control.

Of course, the real obstacle to the use of black crystal technology was its price.

Primordial energy propulsion devices were prohibitively expensive; a single war vehicle engine could buy out the entire Beacon Town. Although land and lives in the Eternal Night regions held little value, a town was still a considerable fortune. Moreover, these devices were mostly contraband, and their prices skyrocketed once they left the upper continents.

Qian Ye tightened his coat and followed the young Master Zhao’s entourage into the underground betting arena. He was responsible for the virtual combat, a test of skill that did not require bloodshed. For ordinary disputes, virtual combat would suffice, but since this was a major bet, two additional, more brutal matches were required.

Master Zhao, dressed formally, walked straight to the left side of the arena, took a seat on a sofa, lit a cigar, and narrowed his eyes, gazing at his opponent across the way.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged man, his bare arms covered in dense tattoos, and his face exuded a sinister aura. His shirt open, his chest bore numerous scars.

The arena was filled with hundreds of seats, now almost completely occupied.

Above were several private boxes, offering the clearest view of the combat. The one-way glass in these boxes allowed those inside to see out, but not vice versa. These boxes were reserved for the truly powerful, and it was rumored that the owner of the arena occasionally graced them with his presence. However, only the battles of true experts could attract such a figure; the level of today’s village brawl would not draw his interest.

When the time came, the clock of the underground arena chimed, and three referees silently entered. Their faces were emotionless, their killing intent restrained but palpable, clearly all Second-Rank soldiers. The referees were the maintainers of order.

One of them carried a special pistol, its body adorned with clear primeval energy patterns. With a primeval energy gun in hand, the authority of the referee was assured.

Qian Ye glanced briefly at the three referees and then lowered his gaze, standing silently behind Master Zhao. In Qian Ye’s estimation, these three referees could easily annihilate both sides’ forces.

That is, if Qian Ye did not intervene.

At that moment, one of the referees announced loudly, “The combat begins.”

Master Zhao exhaled a puff of smoke and then grinned malevolently, saying, “Yan Bahu, since you have the guts to bet so big, how about we start with some bloodshed?”

Yan Bahu burst into laughter, the sound deafening, and then slapped his thigh, “Blood? Sure! I love blood! Zhao, just don’t soil your pants when the time comes! Dare to challenge me, Yan Bahu? I’ll cut off your limbs and dunk you in a cesspool, let you scream for days before you die!”

Master Zhao exhaled another puff of smoke and said calmly, “Many have wanted me dead, yet I’m still alive and well. As for those guys, who knows where they are now? Oh, maybe you’ll disappear mysteriously soon too. Who knows?”

Yan Bahu sneered, all his scars quivering, “Alright! Let’s see if you can make me disappear! Who will go down first and chop off that Zhao kid’s paws?”

Two burly men behind Yan Bahu slowly rose and descended into the arena. Their steps were steady, their faces expressionless, and their knuckles calloused, revealing their experience in cold-blooded killings.

Seeing these two, Qian Ye’s heart sank slightly. They clearly had the iron-blooded aura of soldiers, likely veterans of the Expeditionary Army.

Qian Ye’s gaze then swept over a man behind Yan Bahu before lowering again.

This was an ordinary-looking man, in his thirties, with a short, stiff haircut. Apart from his sharp, knife-like gaze, he had nothing remarkable. Yet, Qian Ye noticed that he sat only halfway on the bench, his back straight, legs slightly apart, and hands resting on his knees, the posture of a seasoned soldier.

He seemed to feel Qian Ye’s gaze, glancing up but finding nothing. Tortured by the dark blood, Qian Ye’s appearance and demeanor had changed significantly. Now, he looked like a refined young man, with no trace of the cold, ruthless edge of an elite Red Scorpion Corps member.

Seeing the two men entering the arena, Master Zhao’s eyes twitched. His hand paused in the air before pointing to the arena, “Cut them down!”

Two fighters from the same vehicle as Qian Ye stood up and entered the ring, each choosing an opponent and beginning to face off.

After three chimes, all four drew their weapons and lunged at their opponents!

Bloody combat allowed the use of short weapons like daggers and gloves. One of Master Zhao’s men used a serrated dagger, while the other wielded two knives. Both of Yan Bahu’s men carried three-sided military bayonets.

All four were First-Rank soldiers, far surpassing ordinary men in strength and speed. The battle began with a spray of blood!

The fighter with the dual knives slashed swiftly, opening a dozen wounds on his opponent. But the burly man only protected his vital points, charging in and impaling the opponent’s heart, the tip of the bayonet piercing through his back.

A one-hit kill.

This was clearly a military style. Qian Ye’s heart skipped a beat but quickly calmed.

Fortunately, on the other side, Master Zhao’s subordinate was a true expert. Using the gap in the burly man’s attack, he suddenly discarded his dagger, using a grappling move to break the man’s arm. Then, he moved like lightning, severing the man’s limbs and finally breaking his neck, winning the round.

This man was actually a master of unarmed combat, but he brought a dagger to the arena, misleading his opponent, who rashly closed in for a close fight and paid the price. Clearly, Master Zhao’s subordinate was as ruthless as he was cunning.

Both Yan Bahu and Master Zhao’s eyes twitched. Finding high-ranking soldiers was no easy task, and each recruit cost a fortune. Now, with one loss each, both felt the pain.

Yan Bahu harrumphed, “Zhao, you’re lucky! Now it’s one-to-one, so we’ll decide with virtual combat!”

Master Zhao’s expression visibly relaxed, and he smiled, “You know I have a good hand, yet you dare to challenge me with virtual combat? I think you’ve gone senile. Just give up the territory!”

Yan Bahu glanced at Qian Ye, sneering, “Think I’m fooled by a child? But it’s not just you with a virtual combat expert! Instructor Liu, give that kid a lesson!”

The ordinary-looking man stood and walked towards one end of the arena. His steps were steady, movements concise, and each step was shoulder-width apart, typical of the Imperial Army.

“Is he really a military combat instructor? I wonder which corps of the Expeditionary Army he belongs to,” Qian Ye thought silently. He removed his long coat and walked to the other end of the arena, stepping onto a circular platform.

Two staff members activated the switch. The sudden demand for power caused the lights in the arena to dim briefly before returning to normal.

A green light curtain rose around the platform beneath Qian Ye, enveloping him. Simultaneously, a warrior made of green light appeared in the arena. The man opposite also stepped onto a platform, and another virtual warrior appeared.

This virtual combat system was a product of the Empire’s primordial energy technology. It could fully capture the movements of the contestants on the platform and synchronize them with the virtual warriors. All data of the virtual warriors were identical.

The initial design of the virtual combat system was to research extremely powerful combat techniques. These techniques, if used in actual combat, would result in serious injury or death, making it impossible to study and refine them. Additionally, since the data of the virtual warriors was identical, it created an absolutely fair environment for both sides to practice and hone their skills.

The virtual combat system had been in use for over 500 years, training countless combat experts for the Empire. It had spread to every corner of the human territories, even reaching Blackstream City, albeit in its most basic form. It was said that the advanced versions of the system could simulate combat at the Warlord level.

Due to the significant impact of the virtual combat system, the dark races paid a heavy price 400 years ago to obtain its blueprints and began building their own systems. Since then, both sides had started on the same footing.

Qian Ye clenched his fist, and the virtual warrior in the arena mirrored the action. The two virtual warriors approached each other and exchanged a punch. Qian Ye felt the force feedback from the primordial energy field, his heart tightening. The man opposite also looked stern, glancing at Qian Ye.

The fist exchange was a routine test to ensure the system’s functionality. Qian Ye signaled the referee that everything was in order and ready to begin.

The two virtual warriors began to circle each other, as if in a real fight. Qian Ye was intimately familiar with the virtual combat system from his days in the Red Scorpion Corps, and if the opponent was indeed an instructor from the Expeditionary Army, even a retired one, he would not lack experience.

After a few probing circles, both suddenly moved, charging at each other with ferocity!

Instructor Liu’s movements were simple and direct, always aiming for the vital points, relying on speed and strength, with few fancy moves.

Another military combat style, seemingly straightforward but exceedingly difficult to counter. Instructor Liu was steady as a mountain, with extensive combat experience and minimal flaws in his movements. Any minor flaw would be mitigated by the system’s feedback delay, making it hard to exploit.

Most of the audience, knowledgeable in combat techniques, began to appreciate the display, cheering loudly.

In the private boxes, some began to pay close attention to the fight.