Little Pink Starfish

That night, Gu Bai was flipped back and forth by Qiguan Rui. Perhaps to enjoy even better results later, Qiguan Rui actually exercised his famously proud self-control—he gnawed from top to bottom, but never went all the way.

Gu Bai: F*ck, might as well just finish it so I can die and reincarnate sooner.
Qiguan Rui smiled gently and continued his “cultivation” (not really).

After a night of wild chaos, the original plotline—where Liu Rufeng accidentally saw the protagonist shou Liang Xiao still training his mecha hard after the match, admired his diligence, gave him some pointers, then got close to him and vaguely suspected something unusual about him…
Who even remembered that anymore? Gu Bai certainly had long since tossed it out of his mind!

But Qiguan Rui, after Gu Bai’s current shell was exhausted into sleep, gently stroked his waist and quietly chuckled.
“Plot? What plot? How could gege’s attention be on anyone else… even if it’s some so-called omega, that won’t do.”
“That character’s guesses in the original were just too annoying.”
“Gege… is clearly mine alone.”

And so, when the pervert moved, you knew what was up: now that he’d dragged him into bed, there would be no “coincidental encounter.”
It wasn’t until Gu Bai woke up the next morning, sore in the waist, aching in the back, and cramping in the legs, that he slowly pieced things together.
In that instant, a strange glint flashed through his eyes:
This damn romantic youth story—how come that dead pervert’s using such roundabout methods now? I’m the one suffering here, okay! Couldn’t he just tell me outright he didn’t want me to go? If we talked it out properly, I might’ve even given him face!

A small flame of anger lit in Gu Bai’s chest.
Was it time to reestablish the household rules…?

At that moment, Qiguan Rui walked over and gently began helping him get dressed. While changing his clothes, he spoke softly: “Gege, don’t be mad. I just… couldn’t help it.”
Gu Bai, deadpan: …Like hell I believe you.
But being fussed over like that, the little flame puffed out with a quiet poof.

#Idiots in love are just that easy to coax#

But what Gu Bai really didn’t understand was—damn it, was he falling in love now?
This sinful romance, I swear!
And of all people, he just had to fall for a pervert…

·

On day two of the mecha competition, they were no longer doing one-on-ones.
Now it was N vs N—no, it was team battles. One group fighting another, full of coordinated action.
But in the end, the key was still the commander.

For this phase, the judge’s seats also had a VIP section, and it was bustling.
The reason was simple: strong individual combat skills didn’t mean strong teamwork. Without teamwork, even the most powerful lone soldier was just that—alone.
Sure, strong individuals could serve as a benchmark to inspire juniors, but in real military use, unless their power defied logic, they were basically useless.
A soldier who can’t work with a team isn’t a good soldier!

Moreover, in team battles, beyond coordination, the real goal was to spot potential future commanders.
That old saying—easy to find a thousand troops, hard to find one general—this was exactly it.
Like the original host Liu Rufeng, for instance: as a beta, his individual strength wasn’t as flashy as protagonist Liang Xiao, but the guy had command talent.
Back then, Liu Rufeng led a single squad in a chaotic battle to defeat seven or eight other squads, nearly wiping the whole arena with his leadership alone.
Now that was [BLEEP] awesome.

Back to the current story: now the event was to test the applicants who signed up for round two of the mecha competition, focusing on command.
The unique twist here? Grades no longer mattered—as long as you assembled an 8-person team, you could enter.
Before the match ended, no one knew your real grade, and even your mecha would be covered with a standardized exterior shell in the virtual net…
Only after the battle ended would identities be revealed.

That’s right—this was a free-for-all.
What kind of free-for-all?

Each match would randomly include twelve teams, each getting a “territory” with a flag.
Teams scored points by capturing other teams’ flags and by eliminating enemies.
The more enemies you took down, the more points you earned.
In the end, three teams would be selected from the twelve for final awards.

So basically, the entire school was encouraged to go all-out, group-fight mode: kill, kill, kill! Kill one? Great! Kill a bunch? Even better!
Whatever methods, tricks, strategies—just win!
The big question:
—How do you fight your way through when eleven other teams might be eyeing you?

Hard, right?

At that moment, Gu Bai felt like the “Bai” in “Gu Bai” finally meant “awesome!”

Anyway, the war simulation began.
Yes, that was this round’s name: War Simulation.
All participants entered a room, connected their mecha AI to their neural chips, and entered the network.
Each person became a virtual avatar; the AI mechas also logged in, disguised with their shells but retaining full functionality.
One person, one mech—pretty harmonious.

Gu Bai, along with everyone else, stared at the large monitor.
It was split into twelve smaller grids plus one large central grid.
The small grids showed the teams’ base camps, randomly assigned.
The big one was the battlefield.
Technically, all those base camps were inside the battlefield, but due to scale, they only showed as little dots.

Honestly, it was pretty advanced.

Gu Bai expressionlessly watched… and saw two points on the field.
He remembered clearly: the northwest point belonged to protagonist shou! The southeast one belonged to the main gong! Their bases were on opposite ends of the battlefield!
So of course, at the start they wouldn’t meet…

Why had the author arranged it this way?
Obviously to start building synergy between the gong and shou!

Then the spectators noticed—
Huh, why were the tactics used at those two corners so similar? Their plans, distribution, deployment, even attack directions—looked almost the same!
One side was more brute-force, the other more precise and persistent, but the thought processes were clearly aligned!

If only—these two became joint commanders in a real battle…
At least the top brass wouldn’t have any disagreements!
Quick! Get those student commanders’ names written down!

Gu Bai had long known this scene was coming and silently sighed.
This was the sadness of knowing spoilers when the plot hadn’t derailed.
Unlike his previous worlds, which were novel or exotic or where he had amnesia, this one just bored him because of his body’s condition.
Being spoiled made him even less excited.

…He really wanted to leave.
As a cold flower who could smash ten mechas with one punch at full power, he had zero interest in these tin cans! Why! Couldn’t! He! Leave!
Trying to bargain was useless… utterly miserable.

Gu Bai sighed again, depressed.
An opportunity for brainwashing like this—he knew that dead pervert would never let it go…
Only in matters like these did that guy never compromise! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

Though Gu Bai was zoning out, his powerful mental strength faithfully kept him updated on the… performance—no, match results.
The protagonist shou and main gong had started attacking from their corners, knocking out each rival base one by one.
Surprisingly, their directions happened to be opposite, so their paths mirrored each other perfectly.

Thus, spectators witnessed a shocking scene:
On the massive battle screen, two lines advanced toward the center at nearly identical speeds and rhythm, wiping out bases in sync!
That kind of synergy… was a little scary!

Eventually, after each team eliminated five others, they met in the middle.
Two teams, standing off.
At that point, the shou’s team had 4 members left, the gong’s team had 6.

It looked like the shou was about to lose?
In the original, the dazzling shou wouldn’t be allowed to lose so easily!
But he couldn’t win either…

Gu Bai deadpanned: the original author had some logic, but not a lot.

After a fierce battle, the shou’s team sacrificed members and took out almost all of the gong’s team. Only the strongest true gong remained standing in the end!
So, technically the gong’s team won, but it wasn’t exactly glorious…
The shou’s team lost, but the loss was full of honor.

Especially when their identities were revealed—
The applause roared.
Because the winning team’s members were all from year four or above, while the shou’s team was no higher than year two!
As a result, team commander “beta” Liang Xiao became a superstar—tons of people swarmed to recruit him!

At the same time, that alpha main gong’s admiration for Liang Xiao also deepened…

Attached to his own personal dead pervert, Gu Bai once again decided to ditch the plot. Let the gong and shou go find their own fates, fall in love on their own, and stay out of his heat cycle life.
But who would’ve thought, on the way back from the banquet to his dorm, he’d run into the protagonist shou—training again!

Gu Bai: What the hell! Didn’t I take a different path this time?! Damn!