Chương 155: What Does a Guy Have to Do to Get Some Reps Around Here?

Leo's second rep lasted the full sixty seconds. He survived by flying predictable patterns along the ceiling boundary, trading any hope of offensive positioning for the safety of wide arcs and sustained momentum. Henderson landed two clean hits in the final twenty seconds, but Leo crossed the finish line with points to spare. His third rep went worse. Henderson adapted. The gunner started leading his shots further, anticipating Leo's conservative flight paths, and by the forty-second mark Leo had been eliminated.

When Leo landed, the assistant coach marked something on his tablet and moved on to the next flyer without comment. He found an empty spot on the sideline and sat down. He was disappointed in himself. He didn't feel like he learned anything, and he knew his performance today wasn't good enough. A huge gap still separated him from the veterans. Some of them were using the drill to practice attack runs and spar with imaginary opponents. Leo was getting eliminated while playing it safe.

Most of Niki's film sessions had focused on strategy and positioning. But none of it mattered if Leo couldn't execute the basics. If every gunner forced him into survival mode, he would never reach the point where strategy became relevant.

"Hey, pal." Vince dropped onto the bench beside him, already unwrapping a protein bar with his teeth.

"First day's always rough. Let me tell you something, my first OTA, I lasted eleven seconds on the first rep. Eleven." He bit off half the bar.

"You know what tomorrow's drill is? Close combat. One-on-ones. Three clean hits and you win. That's your wheelhouse, chief. Reaction speed, divine sense, all that good stuff you've got going on. You're gonna light these guys up." Leo barely heard him. His mind still cycled through the reps, replaying every hit, every dodge, every moment where the holographic shrapnel connected or missed.

"Something doesn't add up." Vince chewed.

"What's that?"

"The scoring." Leo pulled up his stats on his phone.

"Second rep. I took a hit at the thirty-eight second mark. Four fragments struck me. But the system only registered three points." Vince waved the protein bar.

"Yeah, that's how it works. The system doesn't care about fragments, pal."

"And third rep. I got eliminated at forty-two seconds. The explosion went off behind me. My Omnidirectional Awareness tracked every fragment. None of them touched me." Leo looked at Vince.

"But the system said I was hit." Vince finished the protein bar and crumpled the wrapper.

"Here's the thing. The system doesn't care if the shrapnel touches you. It cares how far you were from the center of the blast. Forty feet from detonation, you take two points. Fifty feet, zero. Ten feet, ten. Doesn't matter if three fragments hit you or zero fragments hit you. You could be standing there untouched and still take points because you were too close."

"So the scoring is based purely on distance?"

"That's the whole philosophy." Vince shrugged.

"If the system rewarded guys who got lucky and dodged a fragment by an inch, and punished guys who got unlucky, you'd have flyers chasing variance instead of learning proper evasion. Distance from blast center is the only thing you can actually control. Everything else is the universe rolling dice." But something still nagged at him.

"Then why simulate the shrapnel at all?" Vince blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"If scoring is based on distance, and individual fragments don't matter, why does the system bother rendering thousands of pieces of simulated shrapnel?" Leo gestured toward the flak emplacement.

"That takes processing power. Spiritual Qi. Why go through all that effort for something that doesn't affect the drill?" Vince scratched his chin.

"Huh. You know, I never really thought about it. Twenty-two years and nobody's asked me that. Which is either a great question or a stupid question, and in my experience those are usually the same thing."

"Has it always been like this?"

"Actually, no." Vince leaned back on the bench.

"Three years ago the systems were totally different. The holographics just calculated blast radius and painted the explosion. Big red circle, you're in or you're out. Simple. Then the Air Force upgraded to something new, some next-generation thing, and all the teams got their hand-me-downs. Now we've got fragment simulation, individual trajectories, the whole works." He waved vaguely toward the emplacement.

"But the team never changed the scoring rules. Still distance-based. Nobody even discussed it. The new equipment showed up, the equipment guys plugged it in, and everybody went back to work." But the Air Force added fragment simulation to their projectors for a reason. The military didn't waste resources on features that served no purpose.

"If it's simulated," Leo said slowly, "then it's dodgeable." Vince laughed.

"Sure, pal. If you're a Gold Core cultivator with nothing better to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me tell you something." Vince turned to face him fully and held up his hand.

"The fragments move too fast. Way too fast. T4 shrapnel at Foundation Establishment, we're talking speeds that exceed your reaction time before your brain even finishes saying 'oh no.' Here's how it works." He tapped his forehead.

"Your divine sense detects the explosion. That information goes to your Zifu point. Your brain processes the trajectories, figures out the angles, decides where to move." He moved his hand down the back of his neck.

"That decision travels down your Governing Vessel to your Dantian." He patted his stomach.

"Your Dantian executes the command through your lifebound sword. Total time for an elite Foundation Establishment veteran, a guy who's been doing this his whole life, best case scenario?" He spread his hands.

"Twenty-five milliseconds."

"And the shrapnel?"

"Reaches you in six." Vince dropped his hands.

"The Governing Vessel is the bottleneck. Qi can only travel so fast through a standard meridian channel. Gold Cores have enhanced vessels, faster conduction, the whole package. Foundation Establishment guys like you and me?" He shrugged.

"We see the fragments. We know exactly where they're going. We just can't get our bodies to move in time. It's like watching a car crash in slow motion from inside the car." Governing Vessel. Lord Ross's voice echoed in his memory. The Nectar remodeled your Governing Vessel during breakthrough. Ninety percent more conductive than baseline.

"What if someone had a remodeled Governing Vessel?" Vince's eyebrows rose.

"Remodeled how?" Leo hesitated. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to share his medical records. But Vince was his captain. He pulled up his phone and scrolled to Lord Ross' post-procedure assessment.

"The Profound Clarity Spirit Nectar." He turned the screen toward Vince.

"It rebuilt my Governing Vessel during breakthrough. Lord Ross said the channel that carries Qi from my Dantian to my Zifu point is ninety percent more conductive than baseline." Vince took the phone. He read the screen in silence.

"What's your execution time?"

"Two point five milliseconds." Vince looked up from the phone. His expression had changed.

"Two point five milliseconds." He said the number slowly.

"That's not veteran range, pal. That's not even human range. I don't know what range that is. You're alien, kid. Alien."

"Is it fast enough? Not for the blast. I mean the fragmentation. The steel that comes out after the shell detonates." Vince was quiet for a long moment. He stared at the flak emplacement where Henderson reset the targeting arrays for the next round.

"Let me tell you something." His voice was quieter now.

"Veterans like me, we can feel where we're about to get hit. The divine sense picks up the trajectories, the brain figures out the angles. I know exactly which fragments are going to strike me and where. I can feel one coming for my left shoulder and another one heading for my knee." He handed the phone back.

"I know all of it. I just can't do anything about it. Twenty-two years, six Pro Bowls, and I spend every game knowing exactly how I'm going to get hit and watching it happen anyway." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"But if my Governing Vessel is fast enough..."

"Then maybe you can do something I've never been able to do." Vince stood up slowly.

"And maybe that's why the Air Force bothered simulating the fragments in the first place. Not for guys like me. For guys like you. For whatever you are." Leo's mind raced. If the Air Force was giving their old equipment to the NFL, they must have better ones stashed away. There must be a T4 flak simulator somewhere he could use. Three reps a week was not enough. He needed more. Much more. He pulled out his phone and opened his contacts.

"What are you doing?" Vince asked.

"Finding more reps." Leo scrolled to a name he hadn't contacted in over a year. Major Santiago, Lord Newmont's aide. She helped him with his training against the Mountain Domain, as well as some coordination with the Thousand Talents Program. He had heard that Newmont and Santiago won big during the Thousand Talents debacle. They were among the biggest shareholders of MGM, along with Leo and his former teammates at Yale.

They apparently won so much that rumors had reached him about Santiago securing an Infant Transformation Pill. That meant she owed him. And even if gratitude wasn't enough, he had something to tip the scales. The breakthrough to Nascent Soul was fraught with danger. Earth's current success rate sat at one-third success, one-third permanent failure, one-third death. Those odds haunted every Gold Core like Santiago who'd spent decades building their cultivation.

Back in the Azure Profound Continent, Leo had witnessed a Nascent Soul breakthrough ceremony at Skyhome. Seventeen Gold Core cranes attempting to form their divine infant. The Cranesong technique he'd witnessed addressed the most dangerous part of the breakthrough: the moment when the divine infant searched for the cultivator's Gold Core. That was when most failures occurred. That was when most cultivators died.

It was the best technique he'd ever seen, far superior to anything Earth had developed aside from Third Person Perspective. Santiago must be desperate for any edge that would help her survive her breakthrough. Leo couldn't imagine her saying no. If anyone could get him access to military-grade holographic simulators, it was her.

McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey Santiago told him to meet her at McGuire Air Force Base the next day. She would see if she could get him in front of someone who mattered. She had not, in fact, gotten him in front of anyone. Instead, she had been standing in front of Support Building G for the past ten minutes, blocking the entrance, saying variations of the same thing.

"No response from up the chain." She crossed her arms over her service uniform.

"Without authorization, I can't give you access." Leo tried a different approach.

"But Santiago, it's me." He spread his hands.

"Your friend Leo Chen. Flyer Seven. You know. Hero of the Boston Catacombs? Your favorite CFL flyer? Why can't I just take a look?"

"No, Leo. I can't give you access to the Holographic Simulators. I can't even confirm to you if they exist." Her eyes narrowed.

"Do you have a security clearance? How in the world do you even know they exist?"

"Major Santiago." Leo tried his most reasonable voice.

"I just want to test something. See if a Foundation Establishment flyer can dodge T4 flak." He paused.

"Who knows, if I succeed, maybe you can write a paper about it." Santiago stared at him.

"Why would I care about writing a paper? I'm in the military, Leo."

"Sorry. Bad habits."

"And I have an opportunity to take the Infant Transformation Pill and break through to Nascent Soul." Her voice hardened.

"There is literally nothing in the world that you could say to tempt me. Nothing." Leo opened his mouth.

"Nothing," Santiago repeated.

"Actually, I have something that might..."

"I don't want to hear it, Leo." She cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"I swore an oath. I'm not going to violate it so you can waste the government's money drawing some useless formations." Leo blinked.

"You heard about that?"

"Yes, I heard about that." Santiago's voice rose.

"They called everyone. Your teammates. Your coaches. Your high school teachers. Anyone who ever shared a meal with you. And when you turned off your phone and vanished, they started showing up in person." She jabbed a finger at him.

"I was in the middle of a convoy to Fort Cambridge. Active deployment. And somehow a pair of investigators found me to ask if I knew where Leo Chen was hiding." She stepped closer.

"So where were you?" Leo considered the question. He'd been home the whole time. Maybe the investigators just couldn't believe he was holed up in a building where the elevator worked on alternating Tuesdays and the hallway smelled like rust and cleaning fluid. The only precautions he'd taken were disconnecting the doorbell and slapping a fake eviction notice over his door. The notice was Arthur's idea. Apparently most people stop knocking the moment they see an official-looking paper.

"Let's move on from that." Leo waved a hand.

"Everyone got what they wanted. Government's happy. I'm happy. We all won. Win-win, we called it." Santiago glared.

"Also, who is that woman, anyway? They came back a week later to ask me about her. Asked if I'd ever seen her."

"You should ask Professor Whitmore about Monarch Embercrown. I think he's going to win an award for his formation paper." Santiago's glare intensified.

"But anyways, why are we talking about formation papers? I know nothing about formations. I know nothing about papers." Her eyes tracked his gaze.

"The only thing I know is you're inspecting the door behind me suspiciously. Stop that." Leo stopped.

"What were you doing?" He shrugged.

"The lock is a T4 formation. I wouldn't have been able to get around it."

"I could have you sent to military police for less." Santiago pointed back toward the parking lot.

"Leo, you should turn around. There is nothing for you here. I don't care that you're the reason I'm even in line for the pill. I don't care that you have secrets that might tempt me into helping you. I don't care that..." Her phone buzzed. Santiago held up a finger, her expression shifting from frustration to professional neutrality as she checked the screen. She answered.

"Santiago here." A pause.

"Send him through?" Her voice pitched upward.

"Send him through?" Another pause. Santiago's eyes found Leo. Something complicated moved behind them.

"Understood, sir." She lowered the phone. Leo tried to look innocent.

"Maybe because I'm someone's favorite CFL flyer?"

"One of these days," she said, "someone is going to tell you no and mean it."

"But not today."

"Not today." She sighed and walked toward the door, swiped her key card, and let Leo in. Inside, a checkpoint. Four soldiers in standard military gear flanked an elevator bank. Two held rifles. Two wore spiritual swords at their hips. T4 formation arrays lined the walls, standard containment grids built to suppress unauthorized cultivation techniques. One of the soldiers checked a tablet, glanced at Leo, and waved them through without a word. Santiago led him to the elevator.

She pressed the call button and the doors slid open immediately. They stepped inside. The panel showed no floor numbers, just two unmarked buttons. Santiago pressed the bottom one. The elevator descended.

"Long ride," Santiago said. Leo nodded. Santiago crossed her arms.

"You're not going to ask who that was on the phone?"

"No."

"No?"

"The less I know, the simpler my life is." Santiago grunted.

"Good point." Leo waited a few seconds, then continued.

"Because I already know a lot of secrets." Santiago didn't respond.

"A lot of special techniques, too." Nothing.

"Things that might be useful to someone in your position. You know, a Gold Core looking to breakthrough to Nascent Soul." Santiago's jaw tightened.

"Okay, fine." She turned to face him.

"What were you going to tempt me with?" Leo smiled.

"Santiago, you're young. Single." She glared at him.

"You're young," he corrected, "with hundreds of years of life ahead of you. You must not be too excited by the prospect of taking the Infant Transformation Pill." The glare intensified.

"After all, you've already formed your Gold Core without developing Third Person Perspective. It's going to be hard to guide your divine infant to your core." Leo kept his voice conversational.

"Statistically, you have what? One-third chance of success. One-third chance of failing and staying Gold Core forever. And one-third chance of dying." Santiago's hands curled into fists at her sides.

"Not everyone has the chance to develop Third Person Perspective. Spiritual medicine is rationed."

"I understand." Leo nodded.

"But I observed a curious Nascent Soul ceremony recently. During which seventeen cranes..."

"Cranes?" Leo thought for a moment about how he would invent a cover story for the Azure Profound Continent, Skyhome, and the Silvercrest Cranes. He decided it would be too much work. He'd leave that to someone else. Preferably Vivian.

"During which seventeen cultivators attempted breakthrough to Nascent Soul." He paused.

"Nine succeeded. Six failed and remained Gold Core. Two died." Santiago sucked in a breath.

"Those odds are much better, right?" Leo said. She looked at him.

"What's the catch?"

"The catch is that I don't have the technique. And it's actually pretty difficult to pull off." Leo shrugged.

"You might have to talk to my personal assistant about it. Vivian Xin. She handles my communications." Santiago was quiet for a long moment. Leo let the silence stretch. He could see her doing the math. Gold Core cultivator, facing a one-in-three chance of death when she eventually attempted Nascent Soul. And Leo had just told her he could dramatically change the odds. The military would want it. And the cranes would want something in return. Formations, cultivation techniques, spiritual technology.

She would figure out some way to make the trade happen. All Leo had to do was plant the seed and let her take it from there. And when the deal closed, he'd collect a modest middleman fee for his trouble. The elevator dinged. The doors opened onto a barracks. Concrete walls. Fluorescent lights. A row of cots along one side, a weapons rack along the other. Standard military issue, nothing Leo hadn't seen before. But the far wall was glass. Leo walked toward it. Santiago followed.

Beyond the glass, the barracks overlooked a cavern so vast that Leo couldn't see the edges. The ceiling disappeared into darkness hundreds of feet above. The floor dropped away into a chasm that seemed to have no bottom. And spanning that chasm was a gate. Leo's breath caught. He had seen a gate like this before. This was the signature Gate of Contrition of the Catacombs. He saw a few before, in the subterranean tunnels beneath the Catacombs, on his journey to the Grand Formations Summit. This gate was similar.

The same impossible scale. The same defensive architecture designed to hold against Void Refining Eternals. But the details were different. Where the Grey Cult's Gate of Contrition had been a cathedral of silver and ash, this one was obsidian and flame. The spires rose like volcanic glass, their surfaces carved with scenes of figures ascending through fire. The aesthetic was rebirth through destruction. Purification through burning away weakness.

The military had built a replica to train Earth's forces for the invasion to come. An invasion of the Obsidian Cult of the Boston Catacombs.