Right on Target (TARGET)
"Xingtian' attacked the Main God System a few days ago," the Hermit said, sitting upright in the teahouse, his wide-sleeved robe showing mended patches at the collar. "Fifty or sixty people died."
"Madmen's work," Su Heting dipped his finger in tea before drawing meaningless circles on the table. "Those AIs can't be blown to bits."
"These bombings are meant to intimidate us," the Hermit leaned in slightly under the pretense of sipping tea, lowering his voice. "My sources say 'Xingtian' is planning to send us in for their next operation."
"We all have brain computer interfaces on us," Su Heting turned his head to look at the center of the teahouse, where several girls were performing tea art. "We'll die even faster."
Author's Note: Brain-Computer Interface (BCI): An information system connecting the brain to a computer, allowing direct communication between the two. —The Era of Brain-Computer Interfaces?
In short, it enables consciousness surfing and control over implanted prosthetics.
"My divination says we can't escape this calamity," the Hermit downed his tea in one gulp. "If it weren't for the competition, I'd run—"
Mid-sentence, Su Heting heard the gunshot. The bullet, fired from a cold-forged carbon steel barrel, struck the Hermit right between the eyes. Blood and brain matter splattered out, staining the Hermit's collar.
"Fuck," Su Heting said. "Fuck your ancestors."
Without hesitation, he yanked the tail plugged into his brain computer interface.
The teahouse vanished instantly. Su Heting opened his eyes, returning to reality. The lingering smell of instant noodles filled the room, a stark contrast to the virtual world—this place was cramped, dirty, and packed with nearly a thousand people in one building.
It was Year 6 of the New World.
The old human society had been destroyed in war. The AI systems formed the "Main God Alliance", occupying the high-tech zones of the Old World, aiming to dominate the New World and subjugate humans as an inferior species. Those who escaped were called survivors.
The survivors built anti-system settlements on the ruins of the old human world, controlled by an armed organization called "Xingtian", which also carried out bombing attacks against the Main God System.
Su Heting rolled off the bed, sweating. His T-shirt clung uncomfortably to his back, but he had no time to wipe it off—footsteps were approaching.
The sound of military boots stopped at his door, followed by a violent kick that sent it flying open.
"I suggest you mind your own business," Su Heting's unkempt black hair, overdue for a cut, fell over his eyes, partially obscuring his gaze. The curse on the tip of his tongue morphed into a docile promise under the barrel of a gun. "—and I'll mind mine."
"Stop venting online all the time," the leader of the group, a bald-headed fake monk, clasped his hands together in mock piety before offering earnest advice. "Next time, the warning won't just be a virtual headshot."
"Got it," Su Heting replied obediently. "Whatever you say with a gun in your hand is fucking gospel."
The monk seemed pleased, even offering a polite farewell as he backed out of the room. "Apologies for the disturbance."
Su Heting watched them close the door but didn't hear them leave. He sat on the edge of his bed in the windowless, lightless room. In the dimness, he leaned forward, bracing his arms, and repeated under his breath:
"Whatever you say with a gun in your hand is fucking gospel."
At six o'clock, Su Heting opened his door to find the hallway empty of monks.
Wrapped in a black raincoat, he stepped over a plastic basin left by his neighbor and headed for the elevator. Every room he passed was tiny—some so cramped their occupants had to wash their hair squatting in the doorway. The only standard issue from Xingtian for these spliced humans was a monitored brain computer interface.
Su Heting was currently in Anti-System Survival Zone 03, also known as the Black Market. This area housed a large number of Hybrid—survivors of the new world who had undergone body modifications and possessed brain-machine interfaces. They were under strict surveillance by the Xingtian Organization and were uniformly assigned to live in the Black Market.
Su Heting stepped out of the passageway and stood at the intersection, waiting for the red light.
The rain had dirtied his raincoat, and he tilted his head slightly, his gaze piercing through the rain-streaked glow of xenon lights to the colosseum not far away.
In this resource-scarce world, survival was difficult. Jobs came with life-threatening risks and moral dilemmas, yet competition was fierce.
For Hybrids, who blurred the line between humans and system machines, they were unwelcome among ordinary survivors. Aside from dangerous mercenary work, most of them fought for their lives in the Black Market’s colosseum.
The colosseum was modeled after the ancient Roman amphitheater, sprawling in size and capable of seating nearly ten thousand spectators. Inside, virtual capture devices broadcasted the matches as pay-per-view live streams. On-site tickets were even more expensive but offered an immersive experience for every spectator. The matches were hosted by Xingtian, who used competition points to rank the fighters—a ranking that determined their market value in the Black Market.
Su Heting entered the colosseum once a week. He lived off his ranking and also took on mercenary jobs. As long as the employer offered a high enough price, he’d consider even the most dangerous missions.
The light turned green.
Su Heting followed the crowd across the street, bypassing the colosseum’s main entrance and heading for the eastern competitor’s gate.
The colosseum matches were virtual combat, requiring a connection to the fighters’ brain-machine interfaces to activate holographic projections. For this reason, it was dubbed the new world’s version of "e-sports". The risk, however, was severe neurological damage—the chance of dying on the spot was higher than in real-life combat. Yet its thrill and variety made it wildly popular in the live-streaming market.
"You’re up next!" The manager shielded his ears from the roaring crowd and shouted at Su Heting, "You ready?"
Su Heting nodded.
The area was too crowded. The manager shoved aside obstructing staff and continued yelling at Su Heting, "Then head to the waiting zone! This match is almost over!"
In the waiting area, Su Heting saw many fighters, including his opponent for the night.
Titan was a hulking brute, standing nearly two meters tall. His arms were made of steel, sculpted to mimic the bulging muscles of a human, but they weren’t solid—inside were intricate command processors. He was a quintessential Splice Human of the new world, having fought in hundreds of matches. His limbs responded loyally to brainwave signals under electrode stimulation, allowing him to react at lightning speed, whether in virtual or real combat.
"Hey," Titan cracked open a beer with one hand with his gaze fixed on Su Heting. "Heard your tail’s just like the real thing—needs regular washing and care."
"Yeah, and it sheds sometimes. A real hassle," Su Heting popped a rainbow candy into his mouth. "Wouldn’t recommend copying it."
"I wouldn’t stick a tail on my ass," Titan took a swig of beer before crushing the can in his grip. "But I’ve kept a few cats like you." He flashed Su Heting a grin. "They all worked as whores in the trading district—never stepped foot in the colosseum."
Su Heting chewed his candy as if he hadn’t understood. "You’ve got quite the life experience."
"——Let me turn the camera to the waiting area!" The host floating at the center of the arena was a heavily made-up clown. Waving his arms enthusiastically, he greeted the contestants: "Look at the camera—the tension between these two fighters is already palpable! And the match hasn’t even started yet."
"Titan!" The audience chanted rhythmically, "Titan! Titan!"
Titan basked in the adoration—he loved hearing it.
"Contestant Titan has already won nineteen consecutive matches. One more victory, and he’ll be the new grand slam champion," the host riled up the crowd. "He often punches through his opponents’ jaws with his steel arms and snaps their necks. With such dedication, he never fails to deliver an invaluable visual feast for the audience! I can’t wait to see Titan’s performance tonight!"
The camera then panned to Su Heting, and the host slowed his speech. "Titan’s opponent tonight is ‘Mao’, currently ranked 58th in this month’s points standings—a newcomer, huh. Let me see… Not bad, Mao, three wins in a row. Let me cheer you on." He raised a hand to his cheek and put on an exaggerated, cutesy voice, "Go get ‘em, meow~!"
TL Note: It means cat.
The arena erupted in a wave of boos.
"Time’s almost up," the host resumed his normal tone. "Wait, what do we have here? Mao is truly unique! He doesn’t need a neural connector—because he has a tail! Oh my—" The host’s voice melted into a coo, "He’s so adorable."
Su Heting shed his raincoat, revealing his full appearance under the spotlight.
He was a cat.
Two feline ears stood upright in his hair with one of them twitching slightly from an itch, while the tail that had drawn so much attention swayed lazily.
"Records show he underwent modification surgery due to damage to his vestibular system. This hyper-realistic tail replaces his central processor, helping him walk normally. Oh my, and he’s a heterochromatic kitten too—how cute is that! One of his eyes is a misty blue, isn’t it?" The host leaned in, scrutinizing Mao’s profile. "This eye is also a modified implant, though it hasn’t shown any special functions in previous matches."
Author's Note: Vestibular System: A set of structures in the inner ear responsible for balance and head movement (see Baidu for details). Little Su's vestibular system is damaged, requiring artificial cat ears and tail as central processors to fight. Otherwise, he experiences dizziness and balance instability.
Titan sneered in disdain.
"Let’s begin now," the host announced before facing the audience. "Connection countdown—ten, nine..."
Su Heting lowered his tail as its tip automatically transformed into a connector, linking with the arena’s interface. In that instant, a surge of stimulation raced from his tail to his brain, exploding into an intense wave of excitement in his motor cortex. His cat ears, hypersensitive to the sensation, flattened into airplane ears—making him look anything but approachable.
"Three, two, one!"
The holographic projections snapped into place, and the virtual battleground unfurled in an instant.
Electronic sutras surged like tidal waves, rolling in from the horizon and flooding the entire virtual arena. At the far end of the battlefield, an elderly monk draped in orange-red kasayas appeared. From his sleeves, he released a colossal Nine-Headed Bird, and then the rain began to rise from the ground—the entire arena inverted in Su Heting’s vision.
The audience now hung overhead, while the night sky became the ground beneath his feet.
Murky, filthy raindrops fell upward.
The Nine-Headed Bird perched upside-down at the edge of the colosseum, its nine massive metal heads swiveling in all directions. Its eighteen crimson eyes scanned the ground like searchlights—this was the match’s surveillance system.
"——Let the match begin!"
Titan’s virtual avatar made its grand entrance first.
The heavy thud sent a crushing wave of pressure through the arena, heightening the immersive sensory experience for all.
"He's here—I think I just heard the weight-bearing alarm go off!" The host grew excited and was the first to shout, "Titan is heading straight for the kitten!"
The venue erupted into frenzied cheers: "Titan!"
The audience's faces twisted with madness as they screamed and roared at the holographic display while wildly swinging their glow sticks.
Titan's virtual avatar was an enlarged version of himself, but his steel arms were even more terrifying, with combat modifications particularly pronounced. He rolled his shoulders, producing a grating creak that set teeth on edge. Spreading his legs, he steadied his massive frame.
"The proper way to use implants," Titan raised one forearm, addressing Su Heting, "I'd be happy to give you a correction—"
Before Titan could finish, Su Heting's fist had already smashed into his face. Compared to Titan's flashy steel arms, Su Heting's virtual avatar was downright plain—aside from his ears and tail, he looked like an ordinary human survivor, devoid of any aggressive virtual embellishments, a perfect replica of the kitten himself.
But Su Heting was fast, a result of heightened neural reflexes.
Heat surged through Titan's nostrils; he was sure his nose was bleeding. But he was willing to give Su Heting this small victory—the audience loved blood, and it drove them wild. One hit was enough, though.
As Su Heting's fist came at his head again, Titan ducked, raising his arm defensively before suddenly wrapping it around Su Heting's extended limb.
"He's countering," the host focused intently, "He's got Mao!"
Titan's modified arms weren't for show. In the next moment, he flipped Su Heting onto the ground. Water splashed everywhere, and the venue echoed with a thunderous boom, ensuring every spectator felt the impact beneath their feet.
"Jab!" The audience screamed hoarsely, pouring all their desire into the demand, "Jab through his jaw!"
They wanted something more thrilling, more brutal.
Su Heting grabbed Titan by the hair and, like handling a dog, greeted Titan's nose bridge again with his dominant hand.
Forced to take the hit, Titan's steel arm emitted a low hum as its outer panel slid back, revealing rows of shark-like teeth. The teeth whirred like a chainsaw as he drove his knee into Su Heting and flipping him over before bringing the serrated edge down toward Su Heting's head.
Just one second slower!
Su Heting's ear nearly got sliced off as he rolled away, Titan's steel arm crashing into his side.
"So fast!" The host marveled. "Folks, it's all thanks to that tail. Acting as a substitute for the central processor, it allows the kitten to adapt seamlessly to heightened neural reflexes. Look at how stable his dodges and strikes are! I'll hazard a guess—he must've gone through extensive training after his implant surgery."
Meanwhile, Titan swept at Su Heting's shin, trying to knock him down, but Su Heting didn't budge.
Titan suspected Su Heting had shut off his pain receptors—otherwise, how could he not even flinch?
Su Heting's palm struck Titan's ear with brutal force, the blunt impact sending darkness swimming across his vision. But the roaring crowd seized him and pushed him to keep attacking between ragged breaths.
Su Heting dodged Titan's reckless hook and landed a straight punch square on his face. Titan failed to block, and another straight punch followed. The dizziness made Titan retch violently in reality.
Damn it! This guy was no ordinary fighter—his military-grade combat techniques were ruthless and precise!
Titan's vision blurred from the blows; he could even feel his nose bleeding in the real world.
The barrage of comments from paying online viewers surged like a broken dam, flooding the arena from top to bottom and also engulfing the fighters. This was the climax of the match.
[Kill him! Kill him!]
The comments swirled around the fighting platform, drenching the live audience in virtual light and shadow. Everyone was screaming, like mutants hungry for flesh.
Titan threw a feeble punch, but his steel arm was dodged effortlessly by Su Heting like a toy. The lingering effect of Su Heting's cupped-hand strike was beyond his expectations. Before Titan could even clear his blurred vision, Su Heting's elbow smashed into his head. Titan collapsed instantly, the impact shaking the arena with a thunderous boom.
"Were you looking down on me just now?" Su Heting's modified blue eye narrowed slightly, seemingly unaffected by the harsh arena lights. He grabbed Titan's steel arm, tearing out the command processor inside like shredding trash—just as Titan had crushed the beer can before the match—and crushed it in his grip.
"Fucking musclehead. Screw your 'Grand Slam King' bullshit."
Translator:
Fair warning, I didn't read the other works (Time Limited Hunt, which is the shared universe of this novel) of the author, so I might accidentally change the term compared to other TL works of the author.
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