First battle, evasive footwork

A blinding golden light exploded from the Yellowjacket's palm, instantly widening the crack in the barrier. The shockwave slammed into the main hall of the laboratory like a muffled hammer blow, and two of the light guides flickered and went out. Ye Mo's finger finally fell, pressing the warning button—"Buzz!" The ground shook violently, and three red lights swept out from the cracks in the floor, fanning out across the western passage.

Scott's pupils contracted, and his body sprang up a beat faster than his mind. He used the blue light and shadow to somersault through the air, his suit joints making a soft "click" sound—the moisture hadn't dissipated yet, and his right knee was 0.3 seconds too slow to cushion the impact. He slid three meters along the ground, his back scraping against the cold metal surface, and then a beam of particles blasted into the spot where he had just crouched, creating a crater the size of a bowl, Mars flying everywhere.

"You're serious on the first try?" Scott gasped, his palms sweating. "Five seconds... this is no joke."

Ye Mo didn't reply, but quickly tapped twice on the control panel, bringing up Scott's vital signs window: heart rate 142, breathing irregular, muscle tension excessive. He narrowed his eyes; this condition wouldn't last more than three rounds of attacks.

The Yellowjacket landed silently, his boots shattering a patch of glass, and the cannon barrel on his left arm slowly turned. He didn't rush to pursue, but instead spun halfway around in place, as if scanning a blind spot in space. Scott held his breath, shrinking behind a steel pillar at the edge of the training area, his heart pounding as if it would burst out of his chest.

"Don't look at his fists," Ye Mo suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly transmitted into Scott's headset, "Watch his center of gravity shift."

These words were like a needle, piercing the chaotic fear in Scott's mind. He closed his eyes for half a second, pressed his ear to the ground—it was coming! A slight vibration came from his right; the other side was gliding close at low altitude.

He suddenly opened his eyes, pushed off the ground and leaped to the side, simultaneously activating his shrinking mode, shrinking himself to half a meter tall and crawling under a ventilation opening. The Yellowjacket's punch missed, the Shockwave overturning an entire row of equipment racks, the sheet metal crashing to the ground, and smoke and dust billowing everywhere.

"Zigzag run!" Ye Mo shouted again.

Scott reacted immediately, changing his straight run into a sprint, suddenly changing direction every seven or eight steps, his suit's micro-vibration system adjusting his center of gravity accordingly. Once, twice, three times... he found he could predict the pauses in his opponent's charge before they attacked. On his fourth sprint, he even dared to linger for half a second longer at the corner, waiting for the enemy to pass before jumping away.

"Holy crap... it actually works." He grinned, cold sweat dripping from his chin onto the controller.

The Yellowjacket paused, seemingly sensing that his prey was no longer running away in a panic. He spread his arms, and the devices on his shoulders rotated, emitting a low-frequency hum—sound wave vibrations were activated, and the air distorted like ripples in water. Scott's eardrums throbbed, and he almost fell over; the suit's feedback froze for a frame.

"Lower your head!" Ye Mo roared.

Scott instinctively bent over, the sound waves sweeping past his head, and the instrument screens on the wall behind him shattered. He gritted his teeth and accelerated, running the zigzag route more and more smoothly, and even used short-distance zoom jumps: first shrinking to pass through narrow gaps, then enlarging to use the recoil to propel himself out, managing to leave three visual afterimages.

The Yellowjacket's eyes narrowed, locking onto the afterimage in the middle as he lunged forward. But he missed; the real figure had already flipped over the pipe on the left.

"Two seconds left in five seconds!" Ye Mo stared at the countdown. "Prepare to retreat!"

Scott was about to accelerate when his right leg buckled upon landing—the shockwave had affected the joint lubrication, causing a 0.5-second delay in the suit's response. In that instant, the Yellowjacket unleashed a particle chain, a flash of silver light, aimed straight for his escape route!

The chain head vibrated at a high frequency, about to wrap around Scott's ankle. Ye Mo tapped the control panel twice, triggering the pre-installed Pym Particles interference point. The chain flew halfway before suddenly expanding on a microscale, deviating from its trajectory by 0.7 meters, grazing Scott's trouser leg and embedding itself in the ground, Mars flying everywhere.

Scott felt the wind brush against his calves, looked down and saw that the chain was less than ten centimeters from the instep of his foot, and was terrified. But he didn't freeze, he pushed off the ground and leaned back, sliding flat under the chain, gliding two meters like ice skaters, and finally rolling into a pile of metal boxes in the training area, his chest heaving violently.

"Five seconds are up!" He leaned against the box, panting heavily, but his voice was loud. "Mission accomplished!"

Ye Mo glanced at the time; it was exactly five seconds past the hour. He didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly, his finger already moving to the next stage of the command area, ready to activate the backup defense node.

The Yellowjacket stood still, the chains slowly retracting. He glanced down at the arm's readings; the particle output was normal, the target's escape was purely a calculation error. He looked up towards the training area, his golden eyes locking onto the bunker's location, and the left arm's cannon barrel began to recharge.

Scott leaned back against the box, his hands still trembling, but a slow smile crept onto his lips. He looked down at the controller; the slots were firmly in place, and although his suit had burn marks, all functions remained intact. The series of maneuvers he had just performed had been a close call, all thanks to muscle memory from training.

"Turns out real combat isn't so scary after all," he muttered to himself. "It's just that my heart is pounding so loudly that I can't even hear what's so cool about myself."

Ye Mo heard this and almost burst out laughing, but he managed to suppress his expression. He checked the full-area surveillance footage; the Yellowjacket were in a stable position and hadn't continued their advance, indicating they were still assessing the situation. Scott had taken clever cover; behind the bunker was an old obstacle array in the training area, a complex terrain unfavorable for a high-speed assault.

"Don't let your guard down," Ye Mo said in a low voice. "He hasn't left. You're in the open while he's in the shadows. The real test is yet to come."

Scott swallowed hard, nodded, and slowly moved to the edge of the box, peeking out with half an eye to observe. He saw the Yellowjacket standing quietly, like a golden statue, but the frequency of the heat dissipation vents on his shoulders had changed, clearly indicating that he was gathering power.

"Is he waiting for me to show myself?" Scott asked in a low voice as he pulled back.

"Yes." Ye Mo's finger hovered above the new instruction. "Your performance just now exceeded expectations, so he has to change his tactics."

"So what am I supposed to do now? Keep being a target?"

"No." Ye Mo shook his head, "Right now you're the decoy and scout. Whatever you see, I'll know."

Scott took a deep breath and leaned against the box to catch his breath. He looked down to check the status of his suit: a slight burn on his right shoulder, which did not affect his movement; the controller synchronization rate was 91%, slightly lower but still usable; and the battery level was 67%, enough for one round of high-intensity maneuvering.

"Alright then." He cracked his knuckles. "Shall I swing it around one more time?"

"Don't be greedy," Ye Mo reminded him. "Just show your shadow, don't let him figure out your strategy."

Scott nodded, slowly got up, and moved along the side of the container. He chose an angled spot, then suddenly peeked out— the Yellowjacket was gone!

"Where is he?!" Scott's heart skipped a beat.

Ye Mo quickly switched the camera angle, scanning the main hall with all the cameras; no one was there. He immediately pulled up the thermal imaging and discovered a high-temperature signal rising from the direction of the underground pipes.

"He's crawled down there!" Ye Mo's voice tightened. "Watch your step!"

Scott immediately jumped back, but just as he took two steps back, the metal plate beneath his feet suddenly exploded, and the Yellowjacket burst out of the ground, punching him in the chest. Scott had no time to react and could only instinctively raise his arm to block.

With a loud "bang!", he was blasted away, crashing into two training posts before coming to a stop. His ears were ringing, and he tasted a slightly metallic sweetness in his mouth.

"Did you vomit blood?" Ye Mo stared at the vital signs. "Speak!"

"No... I didn't vomit," Scott coughed twice, "But I might have a cracked rib."

"No cracks." Ye Mo quickly analyzed the impact angle. "Blunt trauma, just bear with it."

The Yellowjacket landed and stood still, not giving chase, but instead taking a half-step back, as if observing Scott's reaction speed. That attack could have been fatal, but he held back.

"He's testing your limits," Ye Mo said in a deep voice. "Don't give him a second chance."

Scott pushed himself up from the ground, his suit beeping and automatically adjusting its support pressure. He wiped his mouth, looked at the Yellowjacket, and suddenly laughed, "You think I can't last much longer?"

The other party didn't answer, but simply raised their right arm, and the cannon's charging progress bar jumped to 78%.

"Alright, go ahead and hit me." Scott straightened up a bit, gripping the controller tighter. "I've dodged it once already, let's try again."

Ye Mo silently recorded the data stream in the console: Scott's heart rate dropped to 118, his breathing became more stable, and his muscle coordination improved. The fear was still there, but it had been pushed to the background.

This is just the beginning.

The Yellowjacket slowly raised his arm, energy gathering in his palm, the golden light growing brighter and brighter. Scott stared at him, his feet slightly apart, his center of gravity lowered, just like the preparatory stance Ye Mo had taught him during training.

"Don't look at his fists," he repeated to himself, "Look at his shift in balance."

Ye Mo's finger rested on the new command key, ready to trigger the interference point at any moment. The entire laboratory fell silent, with only the low hum of the equipment and the ticking of the combat suit's cooling system.

Scott held his breath.

The Yellowjacket moved.

Instead of charging straight at him, he slid sideways, approaching in an arc, as if searching for the best angle to strike. Scott followed suit, turning his body to remain face-to-face.

Three meters.

Two meters.

The Yellowjacket suddenly sprang up, his right fist aimed straight at his face.

Scott dodged to the side, simultaneously initiating a short jump, shrinking himself to thirty centimeters, slipping under his opponent's armpit, then instantly enlarging, using the recoil to slam into his back.

With a muffled thud, the Yellowjacket staggered half a step, and his armor made a crisp sound.

Scott landed and rolled, clutching his shoulder and wincing—the impact had been so hard that he was in considerable pain.

But he laughed, "Hey, I hit you too."

Ye Mo watched the monitor screen, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. He glanced down at the system notification: [First combat dodge successful, neural synchronization efficiency increased by 12%].

They didn't mention any inside jokes, but this time it's for real.

The Yellowjacket slowly turned around, his left arm cannon fully charged, gleaming with golden light. He stopped probing, opened his arms, and an energy field began to condense.

Scott leaned against the training pole, panting heavily. His suit was charred in several places, and the controllers were burning hot. He knew that the next wave of attacks wouldn't be so easy to dodge.

He looked towards the control panel, where Ye Mo was staring at him. He nodded slightly.

It means: You are still alive and can still fight.

Scott took a breath, straightened up, gripped the controller tightly, and the suit hummed again.

The Yellowjacket's energy ball had taken shape, hovering between his palms and illuminating the entire main hall.

Scott stared at the light, slowly backing away into the depths of the training area.

Ye Mo's finger hovered over the command key, his eyes fixed on the screen.

The battle is not over.

The Yellowjacket took a step forward.