Bonnie's words left Fatty in a state of blankness. After glancing around for quite a while, he finally confirmed the reality of the event amidst the envious gazes of others. Blushing innocently, he shuffled toward Bonnie's dormitory step by step. Behind him, a group of Leray Warriors clicked their tongues.

Bonnie stood quietly at the door, like a blossoming narcissus, graceful and stunning. With a warm smile on her face, her eyes gently swept over the soldiers making a fuss, and recalling that Bonnie was their training instructor, they immediately fell silent, turning away sheepishly.

When Fatty finally shuffled to the front, Bonnie's face was already bright red. At last, she stomped her foot and pushed the dithering Fatty into the room in one go, biting her lip, giving him a glare, and closed the door.

In the distance outside the door, a cacophony of howling and wailing arose.

The woman in the apron mustered her last bit of courage, which finally disappeared completely. Even the roots of her ears, as fine as jade, and the elegant white neck were flushed red with embarrassment. Not caring about the dumbfounded Fatty standing at the entrance, Bonnie turned and went into the kitchen, making a clatter with the pots and pans.

Fatty walked into the room as if sleepwalking, the decor's soft blue accented with hints of pink made the small dormitory especially lovely. The psychologist was somewhat stunned, unable to imagine that outwardly proud Bonnie had such a tender side inside her. Smelling the scent in the woman's boudoir, he felt a sudden rush of nervous fluster.

Sitting on the floor, the atmosphere of dinner, in the silence between the two, had a particularly ambiguous feel.

Bonnie, wearing the apron, resembled a gentle and beautiful housewife, and when she took it off and donned casual wear, her graceful curves carried a natural allure. Watching the wine color tint Bonnie's cheeks, Fatty, downing a good amount of whiskey in one go, felt progressively restless.

"You fat oaf..." Bonnie, after drinking, had eyes that were incredibly enchanting with a moist gleam. Her natural charm, impossible for anyone to imitate as she looked around: "What's your hand speed now?"

"Seventy-three actions per second." Unconsciously, Fatty's eyes were already glued to Bonnie's slightly open neckline, her bust conspicuously prominent and dazzlingly white. He replied absentmindedly.

Bonnie, leaning leisurely on the small dining table, suddenly sat up straight, covering her mouth in astonishment. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that such a casual question would receive such an incomprehensible answer. Seventy-three actions, my gosh, that's a Level 11 Mecha Warrior.

This meant the furious attack she witnessed had no holding back, Fatty didn't even need to exert full strength to squarely knock down a Level 9 Mecha Warrior!

Could this be possible? What kind of distortion occurred in the world that a twenty-something Level 11 Mechanical Division sprang into existence so quietly!

Seeing Bonnie straighten, Fatty thought his peeking had been discovered and hurriedly turned his head away.

His guilt was evident yet only made Bonnie notice, following his gaze, the scene within her open neckline, causing her cheeks to blaze. In a mix of shame and urgency, she stood up, walked to Fatty's side, and grabbed a pillow to throw at him regardless of genius or not.

Fatty, knowing when to bend with circumstances, quickly and regretfully lowered his head.

Bonnie, hitting and laughing suddenly, said: "…When you grabbed me back then, this speed wasn't so high." She sat beside Fatty, holding a pillow to her chest, her pretty face still red.

"Well… that improved later," Fatty said, inhaling Bonnie's fragrance, his arm feeling the smooth, jade-like skin touching his side, a tingling spark igniting within him. Feeling parched, he grabbed a whiskey glass and gulped it down.

"When?" Seeing Fatty's eyes, Bonnie inexplicably felt a touch of secret joy.

"It was… on that underground spaceship…" Fatty murmured.

"Spaceship…" Bonnie blushed instantly, recalling the scene back then, she bashed the pillow on Fatty's head, gritting her teeth: "…You have the nerve to say."

Fatty's head was knocked tilt after tilt.

"At that time, I really wanted to kill you." Bonnie gnawed on her lips.

"I was wrong…" Fatty's face flushed with shame, that incident, was after all a knot in his heart.

"Is apologizing enough?" Bonnie held the pillow, looking at Fatty with a half-smile, her alluring face showing an ineffable expression.

"Then…" Fatty lowered his head to plead guilty: "You say, how should I compensate?"

"Pshaw!" Bonnie lightly spat, seemingly unwilling to mention the matter again, took a big gulp of her drink, but accidentally choked. She turned her face aside, coughing violently, a sudden grievance erupting and tears flowed unbidden.

Watching Bonnie's somewhat frail body, her slightly trembling shoulders, Fatty's heart was at once filled with guilt and tenderness. In his drunken stupor, his mind was a roaring, empty void.

Alcohol finally sent a rush of heat straight to his head. He reached out and drew Bonnie tightly into his embrace.

Bonnie's body trembled as if shocked, instantly going soft, weakly struggling: "You fat fool, let go of me, I hate fatties most!"

Fatty pretended not to hear anything. He keenly realized that if he let go of her now, he would immediately be hacked to death.

Feeling the solid and safe embrace, listening to the strong and powerful heartbeat, Bonnie suddenly stopped struggling. She abruptly turned around, her soft arms clinging to Fatty's neck like a snake, then she leaned in and fiercely bit Fatty's lips!

Fatty didn't cry out in pain; he clearly felt the tears on Bonnie's eyelashes falling one by one down his face.

Who knows how much time passed, with breathes hot and dizzying, the teeth biting his lips gradually loosened, leaving only the two soft lips still lingering at the edge, gently kissing, as a warm, smooth tongue cautiously explored over, and the delicate body in his arms became burning hot bit by bit.

"Fatty, do you know how many men a Gazalin woman has in her lifetime?"

"Hmm... I don't know."

"Let me tell you..." Nestled in Fatty's embrace, Bonnie raised her face, her breath as fragrant as orchids: "A traditional Gazalin woman will only have one man in her lifetime!"

"Oh..." Fatty blinked and nodded whether he understood or not.

"I am a traditional Gazalin woman, so..." Bonnie bit her lips: "When are you planning to marry me?"

"......"

"... Can Gazalin men have several women?"

Fatty was kicked out of the dormitory.

Watching that chubby figure dejectedly walk out the door, Bonnie buried her head in the pillow, her heart thumping wildly: "I didn't want to cling to you originally..." Her lips curled into a satisfied smile: "But who asked you to fight for me... and so powerfully!..."

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

Although it was just a confrontation between allied forces, for the proud Feiyang people, this blow was still unforgettable. A Level 1 Forces within the combat sequence of the Feiyang Republic, a Special Forces Group equipped with the Level 10 [Divine] armor, actually suffered a crushing defeat in a confrontation with a virtually unheard-of Leray Forces unit. This result left everyone baffled.

Including six division commanders, two Special Forces chiefs equipped with [Divine], and the Feiyang Expeditionary Army's Mezrich Battlefield leaders including Douglas, all carefully watched the combat records.

The conference room was silent, as a massive three-dimensional screen displayed the collective confrontation of the first round.

In the slowed-down footage, the [Hunters] moved swiftly, with only two or three [Divine] always at the front of their spherical formation. No matter how the special forces soldiers changed the formation, the Leray people consistently maintained this advantage through rapid movement.

Behind the formation, the [Hunters] either moved left, moved right, or rose up into the air to leap at the opponent in front of the formation. Meanwhile, their partners swiftly returned to the end of the formation, repeating the same actions.

Too smooth, time and time again the ten [Hunters] swapped positions without the slightest pause or chaos, precise like an atomic clock. Expecting them to make a mistake was only met with repeated disappointment. They moved along so systematically, so rigorously that it instilled a sense of hopelessness.

As the records played, the officers' expressions grew darker. These [Hunters] didn't only possess the known prowess of Feiyang. It was unknown what modifications these mecha had undergone, but their capabilities were approaching the pinnacle of a Level 9 Mecha!

This little concealment did not incite anger, but what did provoke fury were the attack methods of these assassin-type mecha!

On the screen, a [Divine] attempted to block a [Hunter] before it, only to be forced back with a punch. Just as the head of [Divine] slightly tilted back, a second [Hunter] appeared like a ghost before it, almost brushing against it with a vicious Monkey Stealing Peach attack.

[Divine] retreated rapidly, its backward steps barely steadying the posture, when the third [Hunter] arrived in quick succession, still another relentless Monkey Stealing Peach attack.

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

May has arrived. I hope readers join me in a breakthrough and truly become a victor. Establish victory early this month—is the first sparring, cast your monthly votes, and let's climax together in this storyline of thousand-mile kills.

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. Thank you for your support!

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.(To be continued, to know how the story unfolds, please log on to www.qidian.com, for more chapters, support the author and genuine reading!)

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