One more kick lands squarely on another gold-and-silver mech's right shoulder energy node. The mech collapses, convulsing wildly on the ground like it's having a seizure.
Across the network, the live stream explodes. In the Federation Senate Hall, the politicians who are busy passing blame now stare at the screen, eyes practically popping out.
"An absolute ace pilot. This has to be a military war god. One blade, one mech destroyed. Who in the world is this?"
Meanwhile, the mech manufacturing executives watching the live stream watch their proudest war machines get gutted like chickens. Every weak point hit with surgical precision. They're nearly having strokes from rage. "Damn it. Our silver mech system weakness is exposed. Write it down now."
In the cockpit, you stomp down, crushing the head of the last resisting enemy mech. Holding your 16-foot plasma blade, oil dripping from it, you survey the field like a demon god. Want to take me on? Today, I'll smash every one of you so-called noble knights to pieces.
Locked down by the heavy firepower of twenty mechs, anyone else would have already wet themselves, but sitting in the Blade's cockpit, your energy is boiling over with excitement.
If you run now, outside is swarming with official troops and air-ground fighters. Wearing this black knight skin out there is a dead end. You'd be a scapegoat who never even understood why.
Since there's no escape, smash them all.
A quick scan reveals a fatal blind spot. These mechs are all loaded with ranged weapons. Not one carries a melee weapon. A bunch of idiots. Break them all.
You curse them out viciously. Your hands blur across the control panel in a terrifying streak. The mech's left arm energy shield fires up at full power. A rainbow-colored halo absorbs a wave of high-frequency laser fire head-on.
You slam the throttle and the rocket pack erupts in blinding fire. The hundred-plus-ton steel beast lifts off the ground. You descend like a god. The 16-foot plasma blade comes down, blue light promising annihilation. The heavy mech that was just strutting in arrogance can't even manage a scream. One strike from head to toe leaves it devastated, scalding oil mixing with golden light in a blinding burst as you land and slide forward in an arcing charge.
Your moves in the cockpit are like dancing on a blade's edge. These terrorists wouldn't even rank as your equals in the game.
You jerk the mech through an eerie dodge, slipping past two particle beams. A reverse swing follows. Another fleeing black mech gets cut clean in half at the waist.
The battlefield descends into total chaos. The terrorists have no command structure left, just scattered panic.
Just then, more notifications flash through your mind. Warship engineering plus eight. Warship engineering plus sixteen.
It suddenly clicks. No wonder their piloting is so bad. They're not ace pilots at all. They're warship maintenance crews pressed into emergency duty.
Fired up, you chase down the remaining dozen mechs across the field, striking relentlessly.
Suddenly, a thunderous boom. The massive dome overhead is blasted open with a terrifying hole. The military's fighter craft finally arrived.
Without hesitation, you charge and cut down the last mech. You spin and plunge into the basement beneath the stage.
In the pitch black basement, you take a deep breath. You squeeze the spatial button in your pocket. The massive mech, along with the black knight's armor, vanishes into the spatial dimension instantly, and you land steady, fully invisible.
This spatial button can pull both mech and pilot in together. Unbelievable. Practically unstoppable.
Retracing your path like a ghost, you slip back to the stands, find a blind spot, drop stealth, and change into your janitor's uniform. You blend into the panicked crowd of fleeing civilians.
An hour later, outside the Dome Entertainment Complex, covered in dust, you line up and pass through the citizen security check.
"Jin Han, are you okay?" Someone suddenly calls your name.
You turn. It's your secretly powerful boss, Director Yu, chatting up a few officers.
"Boss, you almost got me killed." You quickly put on a terrified, cowardly expression, complaining loudly. "If you hadn't called me in to settle my pay, I'd have died in there today."
Director Yu grabs your arm, lowering his voice. "Shh. Just call it an accident. The company will file for psychological damages. Take a few paid days off. Come on, let me buy you a drink to calm your nerves."
The two of you head to a quiet, out-of-the-way tea lounge. The moment you sit, the hollow TV cuts to breaking news. A potbellied Dimension Corp executive is bragging to the camera.
"That's right. The man who piloted the Blade mech and saved the day today is our company's senior manager and ace pilot."
You nearly spit out your tea. These people steal credit so smoothly. When exactly did I become your senior manager?
"Don't believe a word those politicians say." Director Yu smirks, raising his teacup. "Dimension Corp's spatial button went missing yesterday. They're stuck now. If they admit the mech was stolen, the company collapses tomorrow and the government might brand them as terrorists. They have no choice but to take the hero's credit and run with it."
Director Yu stares at the screen, a flicker of awe in his eyes. "But honestly, whoever piloted that mech today is top tier. Every strike landed exactly on the enemy mech's weak points."