Counterfeit Hero

"Help... help... you little fairy, I’ll fight you to the end... Golden Bell Shield Iron Shirt!"

"Ah! What are you doing, you damn pervert..."

"...huff huff... my body’s weak, this move saves strength... your grandpa and the others are outside?"

"Scared now?"

"Scared? Master Fatty’s famous for being fearless, go ask around, huff, what have I ever been afraid of in this life?!"

"Be gentle, you damn Fatty... you don’t know this is my first time?!"

"Don’t bite... fine, you’re ruthless! You asked for this!"

"Dear, I was wrong, spare me, okay."

"Little fairy, taste my staff!"

Nobody knew how much time had passed before the stormy room gradually quieted down. Margaret, now dressed, sat on the chair by the bed peeling fruit. The fruit knife in her hand gleamed coldly; combined with the hateful glances she shot at Fatty from time to time, the intimidation was off the charts.

Fatty looked completely drained, pale-faced, lying on the bed and panting. There was no trace of the imposing aura he’d had just now when he’d been "whacking the little fairy."

The room was silent for a while. After a long time, their gazes met, and both felt their hearts give a sudden jolt. When they turned their eyes away, they each clearly felt a kind of warm, unfamiliar atmosphere spreading through this small space.

Blushing, Margaret spat lightly, thinking of Fatty’s firepower just now, as fierce as a heavy tank, and feeling she didn’t even have the strength left to peel fruit. She shoved the peeled apple angrily into Fatty’s mouth, rolled her eyes at him, and said, "Beast!"

"Beast?" Fatty’s eyes bulged as he wheezed, "Master Fatty is a warrior... in bed, I’d rather die in battle... than surrender. You said it yourself... this is a war."

"Then tell me," Margaret’s eyes turned soft and sultry as she played with the fruit knife, "who won?"

Fatty looked at Margaret’s radiant, thoroughly "moisturized" face and felt that her energy was more frightening than the fruit knife in her hand. He reached back and touched the spot on his shoulder where this witch had bitten him in her frenzy, then finally deflated, quickly dropping the victor’s pose he’d earned with such effort, and said meekly, "...A draw."

A knock sounded at the door. Margaret bit her lip, twisted Fatty hard, then turned to open it.

The automatic door slid open, and Hastings was quietly sitting alone in a wheelchair at the doorway.

"Awake?" Hastings rolled his wheelchair into the ward. On his thin, pale face, his eyes were still bright and sharp.

Fatty, an apple in his mouth, nodded dumbly.

This was the first time the two of them had met, and it was different from what Fatty had imagined. At this moment, Hastings showed none of the Military God’s majestic aura. He looked more like a fellow patient dropping by for a visit. And there seemed to be no sense of unfamiliarity between them at all, as if they’d already known each other very well beforehand.

"You’re not going to pass out again, are you?" A faint smile appeared at the corner of Hastings’ mouth.

"Depends on what you’re about to say," Fatty held his head and said weakly, "my body’s not good, I can’t handle bad news."

Margaret stood dazed in the doorway, surprised by how the two men talked to each other with no restraint and no sense of strangeness. She rapidly searched her memory and confirmed this was indeed their first meeting and conversation.

"What if I say I’m going to merge the bandit army into the Double-headed Eagle Unit." Hastings’ wheelchair slid silently closer to the bed.

Fatty’s eyes rolled back, and he very straightforwardly fainted.

"They all say you’re a bastard," Hastings maneuvered his wheelchair closer to the bed, gave the crying-and-laughing Margaret a glance, sighed, and said to Fatty, "They’re not wrong. Get up."

"Oh." Fatty sat up briskly, took the apple with a big bite missing from his mouth and held it out to Hastings, hesitating as he said, "Want a bite?"

Hastings pulled a stern face and waved his hand. He watched as Fatty, looking greatly relieved, chomped down hard on the apple, munching away happily as juice ran everywhere.

"If I hadn’t come, how long were you planning on staying here?"

Hastings glanced around the room, then fixed his gaze back on Fatty’s face.

"Until you showed up," Fatty tossed away the apple core and said, "You came to Chuckna to see me in the first place. You come a day late, I rest a day more. I just got back from the front line and took another shell; it’s rare to have days this leisurely."

"You understand why I came to see you?" Hastings smiled as he looked into Fatty’s eyes.

"Honestly, I don’t really understand," Fatty glanced at Margaret, who had walked up to the bedside, then said seriously to Hastings, "But I know that your reason for coming to me isn’t just for the sake of the Hastings family."

Margaret, who had just reached the bedside, froze. Confused, she quickly turned her head toward Hastings.

A hint of appreciation flashed in Hastings’ eyes. He was silent for a long time before slowly nodding and saying, "You’re right. I didn’t come here to see you for the Hastings family."

Margaret slightly opened her mouth.

No one knew Grandfather Hastings’ physical condition better than she did. Ever since she told Hastings everything about Fatty, and about her attempt to get the Hastings family to ally with the bandit army, Hastings always smiled and told her to make her own decisions.

This trip to Chuckna, in Margaret’s view, was also Hastings acknowledging her plan and coming to help her. Yet unexpectedly, the moment the two of them met, things seemed to veer off the original track.

"Maggie, step outside for a bit, I want to talk to General Tian alone." Hastings lightly patted Margaret’s hand.

Margaret nodded and obediently left the room. As the door closed, Fatty saw the look Margaret cast toward him—gentle and full of expectation.

"Maggie actually isn’t suited to be the number one person in Feiyang’s Military Department," Hastings watched the door close, and his first sentence made Fatty’s heart give a violent jolt.

"In terms of the military, she’s a genius." Hastings gave Fatty a slight smile. "But at the end of the day, she’s just a girl. She lacks that ability which makes warriors willingly die for her, regard her as faith itself, follow her and trust her unconditionally. That is her greatest flaw. In this regard, whether it’s Sobel or Leefer, both do better than she does."

"Besides," Hastings gently pushed his wheelchair, picked up the fruit knife Margaret had left and an apple, and slowly peeled as he said, "I’ve never thought of sacrificing a girl’s life just to preserve the Hastings family’s status and honor. Margaret should have her own life, instead of being confined in a position riddled with deadly crises."

Fatty looked at Hastings, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You really are Marshal Hastings."

"I really am." Hastings nodded, his expression turning solemn.

The conversation sounded a little strange, but the old man and the young man were both very serious. As if what they were saying wasn’t nonsense, but some profound truth.

"What do you need me to do?" Fatty asked.

"End this war." Hastings carefully peeled the apple, without looking up. His tone was so flat it was as if he were asking Fatty to help tidy up the apple peels.

"Me?" Fatty pointed at his own nose, his eyes bulging wider than a cow’s.

Hastings nodded.

"Old man, are you sure you didn’t mean to go to the Feiyang President’s office?" Fatty almost jumped off the bed.

"What do you think?" The fruit knife in Hastings’ hand spun rapidly between his fingers, as if it had grown there. Fatty had never seen anyone peel fruit so smoothly and effortlessly; in his mind, anyone who could peel fruit that well would have no trouble peeling a Fatty.

"Uh..." Fatty swallowed. With the bandit army’s current strength, they were more than enough for a local battle, but ending this war was still a long way off. Never mind Sobel—even facing Mikami Yuto, who currently held the Resk Star System, the bandit army didn’t have the strength for a head-on clash. He did want to end the war, but he had never imagined Hastings would place the key to ending the war on him.

Fatty stammered, "With this scrawny frame of mine, who can I beat?"

"Relying on the bandit army alone definitely isn’t enough," Hastings smiled faintly. "But if you add the Leray Federation, the Gazalin Republic, the Mars Free Channel, the current Chuckna Republic, plus my support—do you think that’s enough?"

"Your support?" Fatty blinked rapidly, his ears pricking up completely. A surge of secret delight rushed through his heart. The old fox was finally remembering to hand out some candy.

"One Super Fleet, five Armored Divisions. Equipped with the Single Soldier Mecha of the twelfth generation for ten divisions, plus eleventh-generation heavy Mecha, Medium-sized Mecha, and electronic mecha." Hastings sliced off a piece of apple and popped it into his mouth, saying lightly, "Don’t you already have independent command authority in the Leray Federation? The troops I’m giving you are all equipped and trained according to the Double-headed Eagle Unit, but they do not belong to the Feiyang Republic. They are the Hastings family’s private soldiers. In other words, in this war, you can have an independent force of your own."

"One Super Fleet, five Armored Divisions... and the equipment for ten Armored Divisions..." Fatty suddenly felt as if he had been struck by a bolt of blissful lightning.

Hastings said, "Since your President of Leray Hamilton can trust you that much, I might as well help him add some chips to your hand. It wasn’t easy making this decision, but after reading your file and watching your battle on Canglang Star, I feel it’s worth it. Most importantly, you have in your hands a treasure I’ve dreamed of."

"Treasure?" Fatty immediately grew wary. "Pipi?"

Looking at Fatty’s expression, as if guarding against a thief, Hastings could only give a wry smile and wave his hand. "I never planned on taking it from you. But I can tell you this: its existence is the key to whether we can win this war."

"Key?" The flesh on Fatty’s face twitched. "That guy’s actually not that capable—just has some innate advantage in electronic warfare, that’s all."

"If you still only wanted to charge at the front as a Special Soldier Company Commander like before, then yes, it wouldn’t be of much use," Hastings chuckled. "But if you want your Leray Federation and Mars Base to grow stronger, if you want to possess a powerful SkyNet in this war, if you want your combat strength and resource coordination to be maximized, it will be the best candidate."

As he spoke, Hastings turned his wheelchair and moved to the window. "Do you know that in this world, there’s another Artificial Intelligence just like Pipi?"

"Another one?" Fatty was startled.

"In the Binart Empire," Hastings let out a long sigh. "Her name is Little Girl."

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.The owed Chapters, I’ll make them up. Owe two Chapters.

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.(To be continued. To find out what happens next, please log on to www.qidian.com. More Chapters there—support the author, support legitimate reading!)