The problem with the mech was finally solved.
That file, Synaptic Loop v0.1, opened up an entirely new world of neural circuits to me. After several days of tuning and live testing, Apollo was no longer just a tool. It had begun to "understand" my movements, even predicting my next step before I gave a command. It felt strange and wonderful, as if we were sharing the same thread of thought.
I compiled my experiment data into an anonymous post on "Mech Enthusiasts Network."
The title read: [Experiment Record] Boundary Tests of Synaptic Loop v0.1.
I never expected it to climb to the top overnight. My points skyrocketed with it. In the early hours of the morning, a system prompt chimed:
[Permission Upgraded: User Level +1. "Deep Reading" Unlocked.]
Leaning back in my chair, I stared at that single line on the screen and could not help but smile.
The deep-level boards of the forum had always been my dream. That was where the real researchers hid, anonymous professors, retired engineers, even rumored members of the "Gray Zone Project."
If I kept climbing, I could see more truths.
…
The following days, I was busy with something else.
Superman's mech, the heavy battle unit I had spent three full months modifying, was finally finished.
I had installed an improved power core, converted the cooling system into a dual-flow loop, cut response delay down to 0.23 seconds, boosted energy efficiency by 28 percent and increased output power by 42 percent.
I had even added neural sync nodes so the pilot's reaction signals could reach the servo joints faster.
On the delivery day, we ran a field test at the underground arena.
The moment Superman climbed in, the mech seemed to burst into new life.
When he lifted his arm, the motion was as clean and instinctive as a muscle reflex.
Within three minutes of the test battle, his opponent's chest armor had been shattered by a single knee strike.
The crowd erupted in cheers. I just stood there quietly, watching the silver-white giant, a complex feeling rising inside me.
It had worked.
But the price had been high.
The whole modification had cost nine hundred thousand credit points.
I had only received Superman's five hundred thousand deposit.
That meant I had spent all my own savings, even my meal money.
I stared at the zero balance on my account and let out a soft breath.
That night, he sent me an encrypted voice message.
"The performance is perfect. Far beyond what I expected."
I smiled faintly and replied, "You deserve it."
Minutes later, a transfer notification popped up:
Received: 100,000 credit.
I blinked.
His next message followed immediately:
[This is a bonus. Your design makes the mech fight as if it can "predict" enemy movements. Last night, I won three matches in a row thanks to it.]
Leaning back, I stared at his words and finally laughed.
…
When the curfew bell rang, the whole campus fell into a dead quiet. I looked at the high wall outside my window and suddenly felt an impulse.
Was it the taste of the night wind, or that long-lost sense of freedom?
Whatever it was, I didn't care anymore.
I slung on my jacket and gently pushed the window open. The iron bars gave a soft clang, as if reminding me: this is against the rules.
But I was never one to follow the rules.
I had only taken a few steps when a flashlight snapped on with a sharp click.
"Stop! What are you doing?"
Damn. Caught red-handed.
I squinted toward the beam and saw the familiar tall security officer, the one who patrolled every night.
I raised my hands with a teasing smile. "Oh, come on, big brother security. Don't scare me. I'm just… going to meet someone."
His brow furrowed, his voice cold as steel. "It's curfew time. Go back to your dorm."
"Oh, please. I swear it's just one quick meeting and I'll be right back." I stepped closer, softening my tone. "Just pretend you didn't see me, alright?"
He stood firm, unmoved. "School rules forbid night outings. No exceptions."
I sighed theatrically and tilted my head. "What if I get dumped because of you?"
"Then he's not worth you," he said coolly.
I almost burst out laughing. In my mind, I was already calculating angles.
"In that case," I said lightly, "I'll just… figure something out myself."
Before the words had faded, I darted to the left, slipping past him.
He reached instinctively, but I was already vaulting onto the edge of a flowerbed. With a push of my hands, my body sprang up. The iron bars trembled under my palms. The night wind rushed into my sleeves, sharp and refreshing.
"Good night, big brother security!"
I waved and dropped down the other side.
My feet hit the ground soundlessly.
The street was quiet except for the wind. I pulled up my hood and walked quickly down the dark alley.
But soon I realized something was wrong.
Behind me, a rhythm echoed my footsteps.
Not too near, not too far, always keeping the same blurry distance.
Someone was following me.
I turned into a side street without changing my expression and pushed open a door at random.
Warm yellow light and old jazz music washed over me, a small bar.
The bartender wiped glasses lazily without looking up.
I slipped into a corner seat and ordered a juice.
Condensation slid down the glass. Using its reflection, I glanced at the window. The shadow had followed me, pausing under the streetlight for a few seconds before vanishing around the corner as if nothing had happened.
I took a slow sip of juice. The coldness ran down my throat, a reminder not to let my guard down.
Who was it? Someone from the academy?
I sat for half an hour, waiting until I was sure the shadow was gone, then left.
The night wind was colder now. I took a different route back to school, scaled the wall and dropped into my dorm. When my feet touched the ground, I smiled, not just because I had made it, but because it felt like I was testing fate itself.
The next morning, the campus broadcast crackled on schedule:
"Last night, a student violated curfew and left campus without permission for a personal rendezvous. All students are advised to take this as a warning."
The whole class buzzed with whispers.
"I heard it was a freshman, sneaking out to meet someone."
"Bold, isn't it?"
I sat in the corner, flipping my textbook and sipping water like nothing had happened.
At lunch, we found a window seat in the cafeteria. The sunlight was dazzling. I squinted at my rice, poking at it with my chopsticks.
Wang Mian shoveled food while whispering to Ethan.
"Did you see the school announcement? Some freshman tried to break through security."
"Yeah. Who even dares to do that these days?" Ethan shook his head.
I glanced at them but said nothing.
Then they both fell silent.
Ethan's chopsticks froze midair. Wang Mian narrowed his eyes at me. "Wait… Aurora, where have you been at night lately?"
"Huh?"
"You're hardly ever in the dorm. Every morning you come to class with panda-level dark circles."
Ethan clapped his hands as if discovering a new continent. "No way! So you're the one from the announcement?"
"No," I said calmly, sipping my water. "I never said it was me."
They exchanged a look, their expressions growing more suspicious.
Wang Mian coughed. "Then where do you go at night? Don't tell me it's really… to see someone."
I almost choked on my drink and shot him a glance. "You're overthinking."
Ethan smirked knowingly. "Tsk, so mysterious. Must be something shady."
I set down my cup, thought for a moment, and decided not to explain.
"Forget it," I said with a smile. "One day, I'll show you."
"Show us what?"
"You'll find out when the time comes." I picked up my tray and walked off.
Behind me, I could still hear their hushed voices.
They had probably already decided I was in some secret romance.
I could not help smiling. I didn't look back.
If they ever found out where I really went at night, they would not be laughing.