Counterfeit Hero

Chapter 8 - 8 Dog Paddling in the Sea of Learning

”Will they succeed?” Milan asked while watching the Newton Local Fleet disappear into the space jump channel on TV.

Milan’s tears flowed non-stop as she sobbed and inquired.

The Fatty behind her didn’t speak. He was wholeheartedly kneeling on the ground praying, murmuring something to himself.

Milan quietly walked over to him and listened intently for a long time. The more she listened, the weirder her expression became. Finally, she couldn’t help but lift her foot and kick the Fatty. She cursed, ”You cowardly fool, get up and look at the schematics!”

Reading the schematics was a task assigned to the Fatty by Professor Boswell. Due to the lack of repair work, the old man thought it was a waste for the Fatty to sit idle. Moreover, many new and complex weapons and mecha parts were beyond the Fatty’s previous reach. To allow this hands-on and capable fellow to play a greater role, Boswell specifically granted him access to all technical files and schematics.

This kind of permission was harder to obtain than reaching for the stars under normal circumstances. But now, time waited for no one. No one knew when Gallipalan would fall into enemy hands. To complete the experiments quickly, it was necessary to cultivate such an assistant who could quickly understand intentions, familiarize himself with technical specifications, and have strong operational capabilities.

The Fatty, favored by the old man, fell into Milan’s clutches.

The initial excitement of accessing classified schematics and technical files had become the Fatty’s nightmare.

Milan said, ”Strict teachers make good students.”

Milan also said, ”Fatty, I am responsible for you.”

So, under the command of this woman who overstepped her bounds, reading schematics and files became a form of torture.

Regardless of who you are, if you were made to read hundreds of schematics and dozens of pages of files every day, and were tested daily, with no sleep or food if you forgot a point or calculated a data incorrectly, you’d probably go mad too.

The already sleep-deprived Fatty seized the opportunity to lie on the ground, his face contorted in pain as if Milan’s kick had dealt him a fatal injury.

Milan, used to the Fatty’s antics, was not moved. Gracefully, she drew her energy gun.

Upon seeing the gun, the Fatty had no choice but to scramble up. Like a frightened rabbit, he dashed to the central computer and began to pretend to study the schematics diligently.

Perhaps the Fatty’s prayers worked. A week later, the Federation Government announced that the mixed fleet comprised of the Federation’s 4th, 6th, and 7th Space Fleets had successfully broken through the Gazalin Empire’s blockade of the jump channel. Though the Newton Local Fleet, acting as the vanguard, suffered huge losses, a path was opened for the subsequent forces. Strategic results were already evident. The Second Army Group, consisting of the 1st, 2nd, and 8th Fleets, had also gathered and was gradually passing through the jump point to reinforce the Newton Star System. Meanwhile, the 3rd and 9th Space Fleets miraculously appeared in the Galileo Star System, tying up the Imperial Space Fleet in that region.

These good news indicated that the battle in the Newton Star System had reached a stalemate. The Gazalin Empire’s dominance in space had completely vanished, and the ground resistance on Miloke Planet would receive continuous support from the Federation Space Fleet. Apart from air attacks and suppression, materials and reinforcements would be continually supplied from the Central Star System. Mobility between cities also saw some restoration.

These announcements not only assured the Fatty of Gallipalan’s safety but allowed him to get a few good nights’ sleep.

In her free time, Milan, always attentive to TV news, was busy cheering for the Federation’s Space Fleet and was fascinated by the young, handsome, and outstanding commanders and pilots introduced on TV. She basically didn’t have time to torment the poor Fatty.

Besides, Tian Xingjian did have some talent for mechanics and good memory. After a week, he had almost effortlessly mastered the theory, making it easy for him to analyze and apply the data and schematics. Any mecha or weapon built on the same theoretical foundation posed little challenge for him.

The Fatty seemed idle again, but having learned the pain of overworking, he pretended to be busier and more miserable than before, spending his days buried in the central computer’s database.

In reality, the Fatty was quite at ease, enjoying the tutorials on psychology within. Being the top sniper in the Reconnaissance Soldier Special Training Unit, he held a deep interest in psychology. He knew that controlling a person’s senses could influence their judgment and psyche—this insight came to him during sniper and camouflage training. The central computer’s extensive library on human knowledge, particularly psychology, was now his playground. How could he resist?

As such, Milan unknowingly became the Fatty’s experimental subject. He carefully observed Milan’s every move, analyzed her emotions, and subtly influenced her using various techniques involving objects, hints, or specific music.

Milan started feeling her emotions and reactions were peculiar. She began caring about things she normally wouldn’t and experienced heightened emotional swings—one moment she was crying, the next laughing. Sometimes she would enter the lab feeling melancholy only to feel cheerful by the afternoon.

She asked the Fatty confusedly if he experienced the same issues. That scoundrel replied that as a man, he didn’t, and that it was normal for women to have these phases monthly.

Blushing with anger, Milan decided to ignore the detestable Fatty.

”Success! She didn’t draw her gun!” the Fatty cheered internally.

Eventually, the Fatty even attempted to directly hypnotize Milan.

Unfortunately, Professor Boswell came looking for Milan to discuss issues, abruptly halting the Fatty’s experiment.

As the Fatty delved deeper, he felt even more inclined to become a master of psychology. The art of manipulating people’s senses through language, behavior, temperature, colors, objects, touch, taste, and sound seemed tailor-made for him. Witnessing Milan’s reactions matching his expectations made him feel like a god.

”Hehe, if I could develop a routine to make women fall in love with me... I’d hit the jackpot...” The Fatty’s mind wandered.

In no time, everyone in the lab became his test subjects. Not only could he read their subtle psychological cues, but he could also invoke their subconsciousness and even induce hallucinations.

As a result, the lab turned chaotic, with everyone in disarray.

By the time Professor Boswell noticed, everything had returned to normal. The Fatty’s interests had shifted to a book titled ”Assassin’s Invisibility Technique.”

This was no fantasy novel but a monumental work that combined the principles of illusion, optics, magic, environmental science, and psychology. The Fatty was instantly captivated by it.

Consequently, the lab’s residents began taking heart disease medication—for prevention or treatment.

If you were constantly scared witless by a Fatty suddenly appearing beside you, or saw plants or even your refrigerator walking around, or a Fatty flying over your head, followed by everything but yourself disappearing, you’d take meds too—your heart couldn’t handle it otherwise.

The only one thrilled was Milan, who found magic and illusions utterly captivating. After all, she was just a twenty-year-old girl. Thus, scenes often unfolded in the lab where Milan, waving a Mauser pistol, forced a gloomy Fatty to perform magic.

After playing enough invisibility games, the Fatty found a new treasure—”Realistic Imitation,” a book masking various con man skills under an odd title.

The sleazy rascal was over the moon. The book contained lessons on ventriloquism, etiquette, flattery, insights into female psychology, fine arts and antique appraisal, forgery, behavior mimicry, and even step-by-step con tricks.

Thus began the Fatty’s career in con artistry.

The rascal mimicked Professor Boswell’s voice to angrily scold the unfortunate chef over the phone, ordering the kitchen to supply the lab with better dishes. He ended the call in the professor’s peculiar way, demanding not to be disturbed by such trivial matters again due to his busy schedule.

The Fatty succeeded once again—no one saw through his trap.

With meals improved, the Fatty soon set his sights closer to home, conning almost everyone. These naive scientists were no match for him, and many private treasures ended up in his storage.

The ruse was only exposed when a researcher, proudly showing off the Fatty’s forged antique pistol to an expert friend, discovered the truth.

Under Milan’s supervision, the Fatty was collectively judged and got a thorough beating. However, he was ecstatic, as everyone agreed his deceptions were highly convincing. The revealed antique pistol was only exposed due to a minor oversight in his forgery.

The Fatty gleefully dog-paddled through the sea of knowledge... twenty-one brushes with death had shown him his shortcomings. The experiences of begging for luck in desperate situations taught him a crucial lesson: in war, survival might hinge on knowing a few extra skills at any given moment.