Counterfeit Hero

The deaths of those two directors on the street were not unrelated to Gandi’s hidden provocations.

Now, what he had to do was to bring this naive fatty in front of Monroe.

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”Weatherill, what do you think is the story behind this fatty?” Ralph Baz gently nudged his companion beside him and asked in a low voice.

As a core disciple of the Tai Sect, Baz was ranked fifth among the students in the Puluo Branch. And standing next to him, James Weatherill, was third.

The tall and thin Weatherill always had a placid expression. Hearing Baz’s question, he glanced indifferently at Monroe, who was standing with his arms crossed and shouting loudly by the side of the training ground. ”I don’t know,” he replied plainly.

Having grown accustomed to Weatherill’s personality, Baz didn’t feel slighted at all and continued enthusiastically, ”I heard he was personally appointed by Kubo. Not sure what his background is, but judging by Monroe’s attitude, he probably isn’t anyone formidable.”

Weatherill lowered his eyelids, his hands swiftly practicing on the simulated control keyboard, not responding.

Both he and Baz were disciples of the Seventh Elder Weii Jianshan. They were also the only independent existences in the Puluo Town branch who could ignore Monroe.

No matter how others bit and fought among themselves, the disciples of Weii Jianshan’s faction only needed to focus on training and learning. No matter how strong Monroe was, he wouldn’t dare challenge Weii Jianshan. Although he was a Level 1 Mecha Commander, he was still far from the Second-level War God Weii Jianshan.

”The show is about to start.” Baz looked at the training ground’s entrance, watching a fatty saunter in behind Gandi with anticipation of chaos.

For once, a slightly mischievous smile appeared on Weatherill’s face.

Another unfortunate soul!

****************************************

The fatty walked into the training ground while curiously looking around.

This was the daily simulation training ground in the basement of the branch building.

The training grounds, divided into semi-open circular booths, were not unfamiliar to the fatty. Mecha training among civilians, aside from actual operations, was mostly conducted on simulation machines, just like military training camps.

At the moment, dozens of students were training in the luxurious circular simulators. The simulation pods rose and fell, spun and whirled, supported by hydraulic simulation arms. Some people were operating them, some were observing, and a few instructors in uniform were patrolling around.

All of the equipment on the trainers was exactly like that on mechas. The only difference was that while on mechas, the control resulted in real actions, whereas on the trainers, it resulted in computer data.

In terms of basic control practice, trainers were actually more suitable than real mechas for training finger techniques, control stick usage, and other operations.

Through a variety of specialized training programs in the computer trainers, Mech Knights could not only understand their level through direct data but also correct mistakes according to the program requirements. And those unfamiliar techniques needed to be thoroughly practiced on trainers before they could be effectively executed on real mechas.

As soon as the fatty entered, he was immediately captivated by the dozen or so luxurious trainers in the room.

In the past, although he had conducted countless practice sessions on military-standard trainers back at the training camp, those cold and simple trainers could not compare to the sophisticated trainers in front of him, made of black metal bodies, leather seats, and advanced holographic control screens.

”Wow!” The fatty’s eyes widened like a young monk seeing a beautiful lady, ”Wow!”

The noise caused Monroe, who was standing with his arms crossed in front of the central control platform, to frown.

Monroe had noticed the fatty the moment he walked in.

Looking at this silly fatty’s nosy behavior, Monroe was puzzled as to why Teacher Kubo had repeatedly instructed him to be cautious with this fatty during their phone call last night.

Rumor had it that this guy was a hand-to-hand combat expert!

Kubo, being embarrassed, naturally kept this to himself. Even his direct disciples were not told.

Monroe was unaware of what had happened. However, he could vaguely guess that the tumultuous compromise decision inside Tai Sect and throughout Free Port might involve something Kubo was too ashamed to reveal.

What could have terrified Kubo to the point of acting cautiously? And how did this unseen fatty suddenly get appointed the Eleventh Elder of Tai Sect and get placed as the director of the sizzling hot Puluo Branch? Thinking about Kubo’s cryptic instructions over the phone, Monroe glared at the fatty darkly. He really couldn’t see any signs of a master in this fatty.

Not to mention, just from the fatty’s loud entrance, he had to be taught a lesson.

Seeing Monroe’s gaze sweep over, Gandi whispered in the fatty’s ear, ”Director Guo, feel free to look around. I have some matters to attend to, and I’ll be back soon!”

The fatty, fixated on the trainers, waved his hand nonchalantly. Gandi quickly disappeared through the training ground’s entrance.

”Who are you?” Monroe strode towards the fatty. With the old fox Gandi gone, he pretended to ask knowingly. It didn’t matter who became the director of the Puluo Branch; this was his turf! Even if he couldn’t overthrow this fatty today, he had to give him a hard time!

The fatty, initially mesmerized by the trainers, quickly regained his composure after Gandi left and Monroe questioned him.

”Me?” The fatty poked his nose with a chubby finger, looking dull.

”Yes, you!” Monroe said coldly, ”How did you get in here? Don’t you know this is a restricted area? Non-branch students are strictly forbidden without special permission!”

”Hehe,” the fatty grinned, ”I’m the new director. I just came to check on everyone.”

The students in the training ground gathered around. Monroe’s group all looked coldly at the fatty. Baz, Weatherill, and a few others stood afar, watching the show. To them, it was all Kubo’s people fighting among themselves.

”Director?” The corners of Monroe’s lips curled into a sneer, ”Never heard of any damned director coming here...”

Before Monroe could finish his sentence, the fatty instinctively touched his privates and responded, ”Big damn director!”

Monroe was stunned, then turned livid as Baz and others burst into laughter. Just as he was about to speak, the fatty shook his head, ”You’re still young, you don’t understand.”

Monroe’s anger surged. Not only within the Puluo Branch but throughout the entire Tai Sect, he was known for being fierce. Having received Kubo’s call, he initially planned to hold back. But now, his arrogance couldn’t tolerate the humiliation brought by the fatty’s taunting.

”Looking for death, are you?” Monroe roared furiously. And with that, raised a hand and a student kicked towards the fatty.

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