Simulated battlefield, multiple stages

Ye Mo's finger was still hovering above the start button, the blue light from the control panel reflecting in his eyes like an unlit nightlight. Scott stood at the entrance to the buffer zone, his combat suit still clinging to his body, his breathing steady, his eyes shining as if he had just won a bet. There was a metallic smell in the air, the lingering warmth from the training area's recent operation.

"That last time," Ye Mo said, his voice a little hoarse, "You missed the mark when you were about 0.3 seconds before landing on the third level."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "You can even tell that?"

"It's not something I saw, it's what the data says." Ye Mo brought up the 3D playback, and the trajectory line of Scott's microscopic maneuvers jumped out on the screen, with a red mark precisely nailed to the edge of the collapsed trap. "You rely on visual judgment to determine the landing point, but once the interference source deflects the image, you're half a beat too slow. In real combat, half a beat can blow your brains out."

With a swipe of his finger, the program interface switched and began reconstructing the level sequence.

"So?" Scott took two steps forward, standing to the side of the control panel. "You want me to jump with my eyes closed?"

"Pretty much." Ye Mo didn't even look up. "In the fourth level, I added a mirror copy trap. The three platforms look exactly alike, but only one is the real exit. You have to rely on the vibration feedback from your suit and the spatial airflow to choose; what you see with your eyes is all fake."

"You're forcing me to become a blind hero!"

"System notification: Humans rely too much on vision and are easily deceived by illusions." Ye Mo said without changing his expression, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Here we go again, your elusive 'system'."

Ye Mo didn't reply, his fingers flying across the screen. The five-level structure diagram slowly unfolded—the first level, the rotating blade array, was retained as a warm-up for the rhythm; the second level, the particle interference was enhanced to a level three pulse, the frequency as chaotic as a loudspeaker in a market; the third level, dynamic collapse superimposed with vertical gravitational shift, the ground would sink while also pulling you to the right; the fourth level, the mirror platform, was launched; the fifth level, the countdown was compressed to forty seconds, seven seconds shorter than the safety threshold.

"This isn't training, this is pushing yourself to the limit." Scott stared at the screen. "If I get cramps in there, are you going to help me?"

"If you're not in charge, who is?" Ye Mo finally looked up. "But the rules are still the same three: 3.2 centimeters is the limit, 47 seconds is the deadline, and you must exit immediately when the red alert sounds. I won't save you if you're more than that, and you're not worthy of saving you if you're less than that."

"Fine, it's you calling the shots again." Scott cracked his neck and shoulders, his joints popping. "But seriously, do you really think I can handle this?"

Ye Mo glanced at him. "You were able to pass the first round, which means your brain wasn't stolen by the suit. What you lack now isn't technique, but instinctive reaction. Only when you can make choices based on your body's memory amidst interference, imbalance, and misdirection will you have truly mastered this thing."

After he finished speaking, he tapped his finger, and the new program loaded.

[Advanced Simulation Battlefield - Multiple Level Modes]

[Environmental calibration in progress... 89%]

Scott took a deep breath and walked towards the entrance. The passage gate was still pitch black, like a mouth waiting to devour people.

"Ready?" Ye Mo asked.

"Nonsense." Scott turned around. "I'm standing right here, why would I call you 'Dad'?"

Ye Mo sneered and pressed confirm.

[Initialization complete]

[Multi-level mode activated]

[Countdown to enter buffer zone: 30 seconds]

The alarm lights turned from yellow to green, the gate opened, and the lights inside the training area gradually illuminated. The rotating blades of the first stage had already begun to turn, at a significantly faster speed than the previous round, their metal edges gleaming like Blade under the cold light.

Scott stopped, his breathing slowed, and a silver light flowed across the surface of his suit. The shrinking process was smooth, without any interruptions, and his neural synchronization rate instantly stabilized at 91%.

First hurdle passed.

The second challenge: the particle interference source is activated. Triple frequency pulses superimposed and attacked, causing a burst of noise to erupt from the waveform on the monitoring screen. Scott paused, his body slightly suspended in mid-air, before moving sideways along the wall, using the wall to shield part of the interference, and successfully passed through.

"Keep the pace steady," Ye Mo said softly, his fingers resting on the emergency stop button. "Don't let the signals lead you by the nose."

In the third stage, the ground collapse trap was activated, and the lateral Force Field was also activated. As soon as Scott landed, his feet lost their footing, and he was violently pulled to the right. His body, shrunken to a microscopic scale, almost crashed into the energy barrier. At the last second, he forcibly twisted his center of gravity and, with the help of the small boost from the suit's propulsion module, managed to make a turn in the air and land on the moving platform.

"Excellent." Ye Mo didn't even blink; the data was already recorded. "Autonomous correction time: 0.48 seconds, 0.02 seconds faster than last time."

The platform slides forward, entering the fourth level area. Three identical endpoint platforms appear ahead, arranged in a triangle, with identical surface gloss, vibration frequency, and airflow disturbances. The only difference is that there is an almost invisible particle flow fluctuation beneath the middle platform—that is the only marker of the real exit.

Scott remained suspended in mid-air, motionless.

The brainwave monitoring curve showed a slight upward trend, and the anxiety index increased.

"Don't look." Ye Mo stared at the screen. "Use your sense of touch, your sense of airflow, your sense of feeling after wearing this suit for half a year."

Scott closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he rushed straight towards the platform on the left.

"Wrong?" Ye Mo frowned.

Just as they were about to make contact, Scott suddenly swerved and lunged at the platform on his right. The system detected the successful contact the instant the suit made contact with the platform.

[Level 4 Passed]

[Time taken: 32.6 seconds]

"You did this on purpose?" Ye Mo said softly.

Scott didn't answer, continuing forward. The final stage arrived, and the countdown timer lit up: [Time Remaining: 40 seconds].

Without hesitation, he entered a state of high-speed microscopic displacement, continuously changing direction within the narrow passage. His breathing rhythm was perfectly synchronized with the contraction and expansion of his body, and the silver light of his battle suit remained stable without a single flicker.

At the thirty-seventh second, the finish line was reached.

[Level 5 Passed]

[Total time: 39.8 seconds]

[No security mechanisms were triggered]

The gate opened, Scott reverted to his original form, plopping down on the ground with his chest heaving and his forehead covered in sweat, but his mouth was grinning widely.

"How did it go?" he asked, panting. "You didn't have to bail me out this time, did you?"

Ye Mo didn't speak, but pulled up the full replay. From the imbalance in the third level to the blind selection in the fourth level, and then to passing the level at the last second, every frame ran within the safe zone. Especially the selection in the fourth level, he clearly hesitated for 0.7 seconds, but finally made the correct judgment based on the slight vibration feedback from the bottom of his battle suit.

"You've already managed to save yourself from the brink of collapse." Ye Mo pointed to the replay footage, "That shift in the third level, adjusting your center of gravity within 0.5 seconds—that wasn't trained, it was instinct."

Scott wiped his face. "But I still have to ask—does this give you permission to hit someone?"

"Yes." Ye Mo closed the light screen. "What you lack now isn't ability, it's courage. Whether you dare to enter a real battlefield, whether you dare to face an enemy that will retaliate, that's the real question."

After he finished speaking, he stood up and closed the main control interface.

Then it opened again.

"Prepare for the second round." He slid his finger across the screen. "This time, we've added random variables—the level order is shuffled, the intensity of interference sources fluctuates, and the trap triggering time is unpredictable. You can no longer rely on memory to pass the levels; you'll have to rely on your reflexes."

Scott remained seated on the floor, staring at the reloading progress bar.

"You're a devil."

"System notification: Growth begins outside the comfort zone." Ye Mo glanced at him. "Didn't you just say you didn't want to delay any longer?"

Scott slowly stood up, still in his combat suit and panting, but his eyes had changed.

"Okay," he said, "Come on."

The initialization interface on the main console popped up again, and the progress bar began to fill: [Environment calibration in progress... 12%]

Ye Mo's finger hovered over the start button.

Scott stood at the entrance to the buffer zone, his back straight.

The training ground has not yet been activated, and all settings remain in the "pending confirmation" state.