Having sparred with Andrew and Alec so many times, he naturally knew what moves his opponent would use.
The military techniques taught within ZAFT were already very familiar to him.
Combined with his own exceptional strength, he couldn't imagine how he could possibly lose.
As he thought this, Fred's body had already reacted accordingly.
At that moment, the young man's right leg traced a small semicircle, seemingly slow yet steady and swift like a compass, his eyes sharp as both hands seized the opponent's arm attacking with rocket-like speed.
Fred's movements were even faster than Mickey's.
Absolute strength represented absolute speed.
And for Fred's body, which had been tempered by the Golden Finger since he was one year old, this was especially true.
Whether in strength, speed, or agility, he was on par with Andrew.
Let alone the Mickey before him.
Of course, what seemed quite effortless to Fred appeared utterly terrifying from Mickey's perspective.
The young man only felt his full-force strike swing through empty air, and then, for some reason, Fred appeared beside him. His extended arm felt as if clamped by two iron claws—not only excruciatingly painful but also impossible to break free from.
What was supposed to be his weapon had now become his weakness.
However, being an Ace after all, though shocked and fearful, Mickey immediately dug his heels in, attempting to change his stance.
Yet, the person before him suddenly transformed from a gentle gentleman into a ferocious monster, like a swamp dog emerging from a calm, placid surface.
Before he could alter his move, Fred's shoulder was already swiftly closing in on him.
It seemed like a simple motion, but with Fred's lightning speed, Mickey had no time to react. His chest was struck by Fred's shoulder, hard as an iron ball, and he was sent flying several meters away.
With just one move, this top close-combat fighter in the squad had been knocked back two or three meters by Fred's Iron Shoulder.
If Fred hadn't released his grip on Mickey's arm, he would have completely subdued him right then.
With a single move, Fred had displayed his terrifying strength before everyone.
The surrounding soldiers watching the fight were momentarily stunned, struggling to process what they had just witnessed.
As for Orphee, it was the same.
Although Joule had warned him, and he had considered that Fred had a good chance of winning.
But he never imagined it would be this effortless.
Just like that, one shoulder strike, and the person flew away like a rootless duckweed?
Mickey was no ordinary person; though not as strong as him, he was still a skilled fighter.
Now he understood why Joule said he didn't need to help.
With this level of strength, there really was no need for his assistance.
Or rather, if he did help and disrupted Fred's performance, that would be the real mistake.
Amid everyone's astonishment, in the corner of the room, Alec watched the scene without surprise, instead allowing a faint smile to cross his face.
Fred's abilities had grown stronger again.
With just a single move, he had made all these Aces before him submit. Now, who would dare question Fred's abilities?
And as Fred rose to greater heights, their future was undoubtedly bright as well.
"Fred has grown even more formidable."
Patrick couldn't help but echo Alec's earlier sentiment.
Although he had been closely observing Fred's capabilities, he was still somewhat surprised to see Fred send Mickey flying with a single impact.
Compared to the last report, Fred had grown significantly stronger.
This kind of improvement alone wasn't enough to astonish him.
After all, everyone grows, and Fred's rate of progress wasn't particularly extraordinary.
But after several consecutive years of Fred maintaining this pace of advancement, Patrick found it hard not to be amazed.
With that thought, Patrick's gaze returned to the screen before him.
He was rather curious about how Fred planned to win their loyalty going forward.
As Patrick's attention shifted to the screen, the soldiers gradually began to regain their composure.
Yet, seeing Mickey, who had lost the ability to continue fighting after just one blow, they couldn't help but widen their eyes in disbelief.
If they didn't know Mickey better, they might have thought he was a plant hired by Fred.
Could a person's transformation really be this drastic?
At first, he seemed like a typical administrative officer during conversations, but once he took action, he turned exceptionally fierce.
Meanwhile, Fred, under the gaze of everyone filled with mixed emotions, appeared to be the calmest person in the room.
He simply walked over to the half-kneeling Mickey and, resuming his usual gentle demeanor, said:
"Your center of force is too far forward—too aggressive but lacking adaptability. Your understanding of techniques isn't deep enough; you're rigid and prone to breaking. Go back and work on your legwork. Rote learning won't get you much further."
Hearing Fred's words, Mickey's face flushed as if dyed by the vibrant hues of a setting sun.
It wasn't the red of suppressed anger but rather the excitement and admiration one feels in the presence of a true master.
He had always attended the military's advanced combat courses, and Fred's critique echoed the very issues his instructors had pointed out.
At this point, how could he possibly doubt Fred's abilities?
Fred's skill and insight were more than sufficient to serve as his teacher.
Moreover, with Fred possessing such strength, how could he feel anything but satisfaction? He was overjoyed.
He could already envision a future where Fred led them to glory—defeating Naturals, climbing the ranks, and reaping the rewards.
"Yes! I'll train diligently when I return!"
As if his earlier doubts had never existed, Mickey snapped out of his thoughts and nodded vigorously.
He looked every bit the obedient, model student.
Grasping Fred's outstretched hand, he quickly pulled himself up and said respectfully:
"Thank you, sir!"
"Mm, go rest for now. Don't push yourself."
Seeing that Fred didn't mock him, the defeated opponent, but instead remained as gentle as before, Mickey—along with everyone around—felt even more respect for Fred.
Regardless of what Fred might truly be thinking, at least on the surface, he had given Mickey ample face.
A person who could knock him down in an instant was now gently telling him to rest and not push himself too hard, instantly filling him with emotional validation.
After all, they admired the strong, and Fred, at least from what they could see now, was a strong individual worthy of respect.
Chapter 248: Analysis
"...Y-yes!"
Suppressing his excitement, Mickey agreed. As he turned to face the gazes of his colleagues around him, he didn't feel embarrassed at all. With an open and honest demeanor, he followed the instruction and returned to the sidelines.
"Next."
Watching the young man step down, Fred continued with a light chuckle.
Hearing this, the remaining few exchanged glances.
Mickey had been defeated in seconds. Even if they went up, what could they possibly do?
Though they thought this, no one suggested surrendering or anything of the sort. Instead, they were quite eager.
They had endured plenty of training that involved taking hits.
They had just heard Fred's comments about Mickey.
They wondered how Fred would evaluate them.
If they had previously been indifferent to Fred's opinions due to uncertainty about his abilities, now, with his demonstrated strength as a foundation, they cared much more about what kind of evaluation they might receive from him.
All previous doubts naturally dissipated like smoke at this point.
Regardless of anything else, at least in terms of combat, the other party was stronger than all of them.
Judging by his earlier performance, even if they tried a war of attrition, they had little confidence in securing a stable victory.
They operated behind enemy lines—in other words, they were special agents. Proficiency in weapons like hand-to-hand combat and firearms was even more critical than piloting an MS.
Combat, as the foundation of everything, was of utmost importance.
Thinking this, the group felt even more respect for Fred.
With this in mind, the remaining squad members all turned their gazes toward their two captains.
"Captain Orphee, Captain Chiora, it's up to you now."
Though they said this, most of their attention was focused on Orphee.
Chiora was a technical officer.
While his combat skills were no worse than Mickey's, Orphee was the true Ace.
If they had to name someone who could break Fred's winning streak, it would undoubtedly be Orphee.
The others spoke one after another, and the two squad leaders exchanged glances.
"Give it your best."
Chiora scratched his head somewhat helplessly, offering an awkward remark.
After all, he knew he stood no chance of winning.
Hearing this, Orphee rubbed his nose, a look of resignation on his honest face.
He wasn't confident either.
But now wasn't the time to say anything discouraging. Besides, whether he was up to the task or not, he had to step up and give it a try.
He was also deeply curious about just how strong Fred truly was.
With this thought, Orphee nodded to the group before him.
"You go ahead."
"Yes!"
Under Orphee's words, the others quickly regained their spirits. Another squad member stepped forward, walking nervously onto the field.
"P-please go easy on me!"
"Mm, come on."
Fred nodded, still standing like a grandmaster.
But now, no one in the room dared to underestimate the masked man.
They went up, now more like students receiving guidance.
With the restraint one shows before a teacher or superior.
After Fred finished speaking, he saw that the young man before him did not initiate an attack first.
He watched Fred with a guarded expression, clearly having learned from Mickey's earlier failure in taking the initiative and now planning to play a defensive game.
In response, Fred simply shrugged and then charged forward.
Again, with a single move, after a dizzying flurry, everyone saw their companion once again sent flying backward.
But unlike before, their shock had gradually turned into acceptance.
If it was the Captain, wasn't it normal for him to knock them flying with a single move? Normal... right?
Thinking this, their gazes turned toward Orphee.
"..."
Under everyone's gaze, Orphee felt a bit uneasy.
He understood what his squad members were thinking—they believed even he probably couldn't win.
And Orphee didn't find much fault with that.
It was true; he really couldn't beat him.
In the silence, after sending the opponent flying, Fred thoughtfully pointed out their shortcomings.
Compared to a captain, he felt more like a teacher, and a gentle and refined one at that.
This formed a stark contrast with his earlier beast-like demeanor.
This contrast instead made the young man even more convincing.
Fred's performance had indeed won everyone over.
"How long do you think I'd last?"
Chiora, watching the scene, also asked Orphee with a bitter smile.
He wasn't specialized in this either, so there was a chance he'd be thrown off as soon as he stepped up.
"Hard to say, but it looks like he's very familiar with our moves."
"You'd probably last two or three moves at most."
Orphee also set aside his complicated thoughts, rubbing his smooth chin thoughtfully as he lowered his head to ponder.
"Hmm?"
Hearing this, Chiora watched as the next squad member stepped up and nodded.
"True, did he train in advance? Looks like he came prepared?"
Prepared to establish his authority—if that were the case, it wouldn't seem as impressive.
"No."
This time, Orphee refuted his words.
"He probably often trains with people who use our moves. It takes years to develop the ability to find weaknesses in techniques so quickly."
"And his own moves are quite strange."
There was no way he was cramming at the last minute. Those peculiar yet somewhat classical moves were already ingrained in his every action. Of course, the most important thing was his far superior raw strength—that was the foundation.
If you didn't know better, you'd think their captain was some grandmaster.
He didn't know where Fred came from, but he definitely wasn't trained by the military.
"Is that so?"
Hearing Chiora's confused reply, Orphee gave a bitter smile.
"I told you not to spend all day studying computers and such. Train more in combat—your judgment is too lacking."
"Isn't that what you're here for?"
Chiora didn't mind, just patted Orphee's shoulder casually and continued.
"So, any ideas on how to deal with him?"
"There are some. If you can use unexpected moves, you might be able to drag it out a few more rounds."
Orphee analyzed.
"Of course, it's just a possibility. After all, no one can say for sure what other abilities our Captain might have."
That meant he didn't think he could win.
Hearing this, Chiora felt somewhat frustrated. Besides, he wasn't particularly skilled in combat—he only knew those standard military moves.
For him, this opportunity was probably out of reach.
On the other hand, Orphee still had a chance.
"Alright then..."
"Give it your best, Orphee."
With that thought, Chiora vigorously patted his colleague's shoulder, as if trying to transfer all his strength to him.