Exciting Experimental Products

Lu Xun almost laughed. That pile of junk was an old public training mecha. It was an old model with extensive damage, abandoned because no one even wanted to get in it. Compared to his mecha, it was like an old car trying to scam a Ferrari—pure suicide.

Not only that, Bai Ling had requested a full set of protective gear. He put it on, step by step, following the instruction manual. Even the way he fastened the straps was perfectly and meticulously standard.

Mystery solved… turns out he’s a total newbie.

The crowd laughed. This was clearly a beginner who had just entered the field. None of the veterans ever paid attention to details like that.

Bai Ling, however, paid them no mind.

The most important lesson he had learned in his past life was to minimize wear and tear as much as possible, to extend his own lifespan. That was why, even after receiving three critical illnesses notices, he could still force himself onto the battlefield through sheer willpower.

He entered the cockpit. The power light came on, and the screen displayed a welcome message: Welcome back, my master!

Bai Ling stroked the console, whispering like a lover: “Long time no see, old friend. Please lend me your strength.”

Amidst the crowd’s shocked gasps, the scrapped mecha, like a terminally ill patient in their final burst of clarity, unbelievably stood up. In the crowd, a black-haired woman with a sharp gaze was also staring intently at the scene.

The whistle blew and the match began!

The rules are simple: the first to fall is the loser.

Long afterward, when eyewitnesses recalled this impromptu duel, they couldn’t help but sigh: “Fast, too fast.”

It wasn’t just the fierce speed of Bai Ling’s leaping and spinning attack that was fast; it was the speed at which Young Master Lu lost face.

Lu Xun lay on the ground staring at the sky, still not processing why he was in a starfish position. The outer shell of his mecha was stepped on heavily. At the same time, a cold, sharp voice came through the comms:

“Do you submit?”

Despite being pinned underfoot, when Lu Xun heard that clear, arrogant voice, he inexplicably blushed. He felt as if he’d just been conquered by a powerful, female peregrine falcon.

“That… is a little exciting.”

“Hm?” Bai Ling narrowed his eyes.

“Ah, no, no, no, I submit! I meant to say I submit!” Lu Xun kneeled without hesitation.

You lose, you submit. Those are the rules of the mercenary world.

Bai Ling nodded, his voice cool and distant. “Good that you know.”

Just then, a cheerful female voice sounded from behind him. “You don’t have your own mecha? Join our association, and we’ll give you one for free.”

Bai Ling turned. The first thing he saw was the insignia on the black-haired woman’s chest. This woman was likely an instructor for a 5-star association.

He replied, “That depends on your terms.”

The surrounding crowd almost laughed in exasperation. Instructor Anna is personally handing you an olive branch, and you’re making demands? Just agree already!

Anna smiled. “You make your demands first. I’ll see if I can meet them.”

After thinking for a bit, Bai Ling said, “Giving me a mecha is fine, but I want to go to the hangar and pick it myself. I won’t accept an assigned one.”

For a rookie to say this was beyond arrogant. But surprisingly, Anna, who was known for being strict, nodded her head.

“You may. However, if your synchronization rate with the mecha is below 60%, I also have the right to refuse you.”

Bai Ling agreed instantly. “Done.”

The crowd: …Hey, are you a little too confident? An association’s mecha isn’t a public training unit. You think you can just hop in and hit 60%? You’re a long way off, rookie!

---

In the mood for a good show, the crowd followed Anna to the “Eloquent Crows and Sparrows” private hangar.

“You can pick anything from this warehouse.”

Bai Ling turned and asked, “Any one of them?”

Anna nodded. “That’s right.” Anyway, she thought, aside from that one, all the others are standard association models.

Bai Ling pointed. “I want that one.”

Everyone followed his finger, froze, and then burst into knowing, muffled laughter.

The reason was simple: that “Rattlesnake” was famously the most “chaste and virtuous” mecha in the association hangar.

It was originally an experimental model sent over from a military factory. Whoever could tame it would get to sign a contract with the mecha lab and become the glorious “Unit 0’s Test Pilot.”

But there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Rattlesnake was equipped with the latest AI system and had a proud, ferocious temper. Normally, people picked their mecha; this mecha picked its master. If it was the least bit unhappy, it would fling the pilot out of the cockpit and break their bones.

It had been sitting there collecting dust for half a year. The others could only look on with resentment.

“What is he doing?”

Under the baffled stares of the crowd, Bai Ling returned carrying a bucket of water. He climbed onto the mecha, took a brand-new cloth, and meticulously wiped the years of dust off the glass. Then, he applied a coat of maintenance wax. The deep-space-gray chassis immediately became mirror-bright.

Finally, he made two small daisies origamis from a flyer and stuck them on the outside of the cockpit window.

Rattlesnake shook violently twice and the crowd felt a sense of schadenfreude.

Here it comes, here it comes! That’s what you get for all this trouble! Rattlesnake is definitely going to scramble your brains and leave you paralyzed!

But right at that moment, a clear voice came from the loudspeaker:

“Could you please help me bring the flowers inside the cockpit?”

It was Rattlesnake speaking!

Rattlesnake taking the initiative to talk to someone was something that had never happened before.

Bai Ling casually wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brow with his arm, put on his gloves, and patted Rattlesnake’s tail.

A trace of softness appeared in his cold, gray eyes. He smiled. “You’re still a little girl who likes pretty things, huh?”

The crowd was so regretful they could have died. If they had known that just lifting a finger to clean up a bit would raise the mecha’s affection, they would have claimed Rattlesnake ages ago.

But it was too late for regrets. They could only watch, green with envy, as Bai Ling ascended the lift and sat down firmly in the pilot’s seat they had all dreamed of.

“Hmph. Getting into the cockpit is nothing. Passing the sync-rate test is what takes skill.”

The Guild vice-captain, one of the strongest in the entire group, had also passed Rattlesnake’s initial approval. But hadn’t he got stuck at the 75% neural sync-rate barrier, unable to successfully log into the system?

This rookie couldn’t possibly be stronger than the vice-captain with thirty years of experience, could he?

So when Rattlesnake displayed the sync-rate data, everyone wore the same “just as I expected” sneer.

“21%…” Anna frowned slightly. This data was terrible. It was, without a doubt, an unprecedented low for a 5-star association.

Generally speaking, after connecting the neural interface, a brain-machine sync rate of 20%-40% allowed for simple movement: walking, running, jumping.

40%-60% allowed for complex movements, like rolls, dodges, and basic flight.

As for those flashy aerial somersaults and strikes, those fluid combos that resemble a bird of prey hunting… those required a sync rate of 70% or even 80% and were an extreme test of a pilot’s physical conditioning.

Anna was just about to advise Bai Ling to give up; it was no shame to try another one.

Before she could speak, Rattlesnake took a trembling step. And then, something strange happened.

This beast of a machine, like a toddler just learning to walk, stretched out its mechanical arms for balance and began to walk, stiffly and crookedly.

It was only when it got out of the warehouse that its movements became a little smoother. It hopped twice, making the crowd roar with laughter.

But after only a few seconds, it was as if Rattlesnake suddenly “got it.” It started to jog, circling the training field, going 5km/h, 10km/h, 40km/h… faster and faster. Its drive wheels slid rapidly in the sand, and as the engine’s whine began to rise, it kicked up a violent storm.

“BOOM—!”

In an instant, the massive engine thrusters spat fire. The heat from the afterburners practically seared their faces. A streak of blue-violet light tore through the night, ripping through the air with a devastating howl, and slammed into the sky with savage force.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Amid a sea of screams, Bai Ling, like an arrow released from a bow, shot across the dark blue surface of the sea. The other mechas training by the shore were startled, scattering like a flock of doves targeted by a hunting falcon, flapping away in a panic.

In the sky, Rattlesnake spread its beautiful, streamlined wings, drawing a perfectly straight line across the night.

Bai Ling looked out at the curved horizon and the pleasant sound of the engine hummed in his ears. Everything felt so familiar, harmonious, and delightful.

This was the first time since his regression that he was flying free, looking down on the homeland that had once raised him.

It made him want to shout to the earth: I’m back!

A moment later, the mecha landed smoothly. The crowd, stunned and envious, also had questions. Anna asked:

“Your sync rate was 21% just now. How did you manage to fly into the sky?”

“21%? Is that so?” Bai Ling took off his helmet. His slightly damp hair clung to his fine-featured forehead. He looked like an iceberg under the blazing sun: cool, stunning, and frigid.

A group of alphas couldn’t help but steal glances. A slim-waisted beauty who could pilot a mecha… he could clearly make a living with his face, but he insisted on piloting a mecha…

The mercenaries, with their inherent worship of strength, absolutely adore this type.

Bai Ling’s sharp, beautiful eyes darted around. He turned and tapped the control panel, displaying the current sync rate.

“8… 8… 87%?!”

The onlookers stammered.

Anna suddenly remembered some terrifying legends.

It’s said that some exceptionally gifted pilots have innately tough neural networks, allowing them to adapt to any mecha model in a short time, and inexplicably increasing their sync rate while piloting, a feat comparable to a miracle.

This little fledgling… what institution does he come from? He is…

She really picked up a huge bargain!

She must notify the team leader immediately, sign him as an exclusive pilot, and keep him here with the highest possible salary! Anna was just about to report this when she ran headlong into a man rushing toward her.

“Uriel? Why are you running so fast?” Anna asked with a smile.

She and Uriel were old acquaintances. After all, that Rattlesnake had been placed in the hangar by Uriel’s own office.

Uriel wiped his sweat, looking around frantically. “I’m looking for my little white bird! The pilot I just scouted. I can’t find him.”

“What do you mean, your little white bird?” Anna blurted out. “That’s our fledgling!”

“What fledgling?” Uriel froze, then realized what had happened. “No, did he sign with your association?”

“It’s more than just that,” Anna said, crossing her arms smugly. “He also took your Rattlesnake into the sky.”

“Huh? I was just about to call him for the test… He… he already passed?”

“Mhm. 87% sync rate.”

Uriel’s face was full of disbelief. Heavens… He had given the kid his business card with the intention of having the association pull some strings for him. Who would have thought that the little bird wouldn’t even show the card to use the connection, and had instead taken the very test that was supposed to be his extra credit and scored a grand slam?

Uriel’s expression turned serious. He insisted, “No, that’s my fledgling!”

While the two of them argued heatedly outside, Bai Ling was working quietly in the hangar. He cleaned the mud off Rattlesnake and performed a cooling maintenance check, with each action meticulously careful.

Rattlesnake asked him in a clear, bright, girlish voice: “You seem very familiar with my build?”

Bai Ling seemed to freeze at the question. He lowered his head and wrung out the rag. Dirty water dripped into the bucket. After a long moment, his voice softened.

“Because… you’re a good kid.”

In his last life, when he was destitute, this was the only mecha willing to follow him.

Although this one was just the “Test Unit 0” and not the mass-produced model he had eventually bought, to be able to meet his lifelong partner again like this… he was…

Very happy.

“Fledgling, are you in there?” Anna’s voice suddenly called out.

She walked over quickly, her high heels clicking sharply on the floor. “Come with me to the infirmary. Before you’re officially hired, you need to undergo a full medical examination.”

---

Dr. Lin gripped the checklist while having an existential crisis.

He had never seen an omega in such terrible condition!

Delayed differentiation, reproductive cavity damage, psychological distress, malnutrition… The list of major and minor ailments went on for several pages. He had practically violated every taboo possible during the differentiation period.

Dr. Lin was numb. He watched Bai Ling walk in and his expression was like he was looking at a sprinkler head leaking from every hole.

The key person involved didn’t seem to feel a thing. He pulled out a chair himself and sat down.

“Is there a problem?”

Dr. Lin’s eye twitched. He shoved the report over. Look at all these values in the red. Let’s see if this scares you.

Bai Ling flipped through it casually, a little surprised. “The condition is pretty good, huh?”

Dr. Lin: “……”

Dr. Lin figured the kid was young and didn’t understand, so he patiently explained: “Look at this item. Your reproductive hormones have dropped to -8. The normal range is between 5 and 30. A value this low requires immediate hospitalization.”

Reproductive hormone levels directly affected pheromone secretion. If this wasn’t handled, it could mean lifelong sexual abstinence.

If it got worse, it could even lead to deformation of the reproductive cavity, causing a complete differentiation failure. His body would be permanently stuck between beta and omega, and he’d suffer from pseudo-heats for the rest of his life.

That’s not a pain an ordinary person could endure.

Many omegas who missed the treatment window were forced to have their reproductive cavities removed, drastically shortening their lifespans.

Dr. Lin continued, “You are in a critical phase of your differentiation. Although it’s already late, as long as you cooperate with the treatment, it’s not too late to fix this.”

“No need.” Bai Ling casually handed the report back. “I have no desire whatsoever to have children. It makes no difference to me whether I fully differentiate or not.”

He had gotten through his last life just fine, after all.

Dr. Lin’s face was blank. He had actually thought, seeing the kid wear protective gear during the duel, that they finally had a pilot with some common sense. He hadn’t expected this kid’s self-destructive streak to be even worse than those forty- to fifty-year-old veterans.

An ignorant kid like this needs to be scared straight!

Dr. Lin played his trump card: “If you don’t follow medical advice, I have the right to request your guardian’s accompaniment. You wouldn’t want your parents to have to clock in at your job for you, would you?”

The little white-haired boy’s expression finally wavered.

Dr. Lin knew he had made the right move.

But then he thought again, and something felt wrong.

What kind of good guardian would let an omega get into this state? And psychological distress in Avian bloodlines was usually related to cold and harsh treatment from their caretakers.

Dr. Lin suspected that the subject’s alpha guardian had failed to fulfill his legal responsibilities.

For whatever reason, the guardian had never established a secure attachment bond with this fledgling, let alone provided continuous care, affection, comfort, and embraces.

This lack of care would leave an omega in a long-term state of high anxiety, high avoidance, and low emotional affect.

It was extremely detrimental to an omega’s growth and development.

Therefore, ever since the Izsu Paraiso era, Imperial law had clearly stipulated—

Every omega entering their differentiation period must be bound to a guardian. Otherwise, they were not permitted free access to public spaces.

This was the famous [A/O Guardian System].

Dr. Lin’s voice grew heavy. He stared at him. “Tell me honestly, has your guardian been abusive?”

Bai Ling’s head snapped up. A ripple passed through his gray eyes, but he quickly calmed himself and denied it flatly.

“No. He treats me very well.”

Dr. Lin nodded, collecting the report. “Fine. Whether you’re lying or not, I subjectively recommend you switch to a more experienced, stable guardian. Even if they can’t help your fertility, they can at least release soothing pheromones to help you with the pain during your pseudo-heats.”

Until then, you can take this artificial Alpha pheromone supplement.”

Bai Ling was somewhat distracted. He took the prescription from Dr. Lin and crumpled the paper bag into a small ball.

Dr. Lin advised, “Also, while taking this medication, you must avoid contact with alphas as much as possible.”

Bai Ling asked, “And if I do?”

Dr. Lin’s gaze was full of meaning. He said slowly, “Then you will passively choose a partner. You’ll become his most… convenient little prey.”

---

Author has something to say:

That’s a huge flag.

Tossing the little bird into the pot with the merman and running (You can see the fish again next chapter!)

[Guardian System] is a personal setting. Imperial law stipulates that a guardian’s authority is higher than a spouse’s, partially similar to a real-world “appointed guardianship.”