Gustav was startled by his opponent's piloting skills and precise predictions, which clearly surpassed those of an elite pilot.
That "Alsace" really did come prepared. This guy must be his hidden ace!
Feigning weakness to lull me into complacency? What a schemer!
Gustav's thoughts raced, and his expression turned serious. He now regarded his opponent as a genuine ace.
He darted left and right, changing direction unpredictably, while raising his right arm to bring his rifle up, quickly lock onto his opponent, and fire.
What he failed to notice, however, was that the instant he pulled the trigger, the wrist of his Prosthetic Limb shifted imperceptibly to the left...
"Zzzap!" A beam shot out. Gustav had once again correctly predicted the direction his opponent would dodge, yet the shot barely skimmed past the left side of the opposing mech, missing its target!
"Hm?" Gustav frowned.
He dodged it again?
"Boom, boom..." "Zzzap!" "Zzzap!"...
The two mechs pounded across the floor with thunderous crashes, constantly darting and leaping around each other while desperately trying to lock on and fire. Beams streaked through the Training Room, repeatedly grazing past both machines.
The squad leader's mech moved somewhat stiffly and was noticeably slower. Overall, he was at a disadvantage, with Gustav keeping him firmly on the defensive.
Yet for some reason, several times when Gustav had clearly predicted the right direction and his attacks seemed certain to hit, his opponent always managed to evade them by the narrowest margin!
What Gustav found even more unbelievable was that his opponent's attacks were growing increasingly accurate, as though he were adapting to Gustav's fighting style at an astonishing pace!
But that... how was that possible!?
Meanwhile, the spectators' eyes nearly popped out of their heads!
That obscure squad leader had actually dodged the fierce