Chapter 6 - Chapter: The Logic of the Tournament’s Hype and the Trash-Hunting Trip

"What kind of reaction do you want?" Lin Jie took a slow sip of red wine, his face expressionless.His calmness wasn't because he was unimpressed by the Death Star Tournament's impact—in fact, he'd been confused at first by how such a crude competition had become so popular. But before that confusion could show on his face, he'd already figured out the reason behind it.It was true, as Curly had said, that the Karl Star Nation—an interstellar civilization with advanced technology—hosted official superpower leagues and mecha leagues. These leagues were like Europe's top five football leagues: broadcast on major official platforms and TV, featuring higher-tier mechas, more refined mechanics, and more robust rules.By comparison, the battles between death-row inmates on the Death Star seemed utterly unrefined.Yet, official leagues had two fatal flaws when it came to attracting audiences.The first was their detachment from the general public.Admittedly, official leagues had higher standards, stronger mechas, and pilots with a mecha synchronization rate of over 50%. But those mechas were impossible for ordinary people to pilot, and the professional pilots' combat styles were beyond the reach of average individuals.In short, they had an extremely high threshold—one that created a sense of distance. Because they couldn't give people the feeling that "I could do that too."The Death Star Tournament was different. While the conditions were shoddy and the venues rough, Private-class mechas had almost no piloting threshold—anyone with a synchronization rate of over 20% could operate one. Compared to the 50% threshold (which eliminated 99% of people), a 20% synchronization rate was nearly accessible to everyone.This narrowed the gap between the competitors and the audience, and greatly increased the audience's willingness to discuss the matches. To use an analogy: it was like the difference between traditional sports and esports.Why did esports have higher viewership than traditional sports? Why do more young people choose to watch esports instead of traditional sports?The answer was simple: traditional sports leagues were, in a way, detached from the public.Take the NBA, for example. Ordinary people could never have access to such professional venues, dedicated coaches, referees, or the "superhuman" physical fitness of the players. We watch these pro athletes dunk and soar, clap and cheer—but that's it. Because we could never do what they do.Esports, however, was different. We didn't need venues, coaches, or extraordinary physical strength—just a computer to experience what professional players do. And even the worst gamers had at least one or two "highlight moments" they could brag about.Where there were highlight moments, there was discussion; where there was discussion, there was hype.The official leagues and the Death Star Tournament were somewhat like traditional sports versus esports in this regard.The second flaw—and the key reason the Death Star Tournament had surpassed professional leagues in popularity—was this: no one dies in professional leagues.Official leagues had comprehensive protection mechanisms, advanced mecha shields, and multiple layers of safety measures. Even if a mecha was destroyed, the pilot inside would be unharmed.The Death Star Tournament, by contrast, was the exact opposite. There were no rules, and killing was allowed. According to Curly, three pilots had already been crushed into pulp by dozens of tons of steel in the first five matches.This kind of gory, intense combat naturally awakened people's subconscious desire for bloodshed and violence—driving up viewership. After all, a match where both sides walk away unharmed could never be as gripping as one where "one side is guaranteed to die.""What you said makes sense. My boss told me the same thing," Curly said, looking at Lin Jie.Lin Jie tilted his head back and finished his wine, nodded to Simon, then picked a random room to rest in.The next day, Lin Jie was woken up by Curly. It was clear Curly was loyal to Simon—even though he knew repairing the mecha would mean risking his life, he was still full of energy.After a quick breakfast, Curly dragged Lin Jie out of Simon's "presidential cell." From a distance, Lin Jie spotted a hovercraft parked on the recreation square, surrounded by several armed prison guards."The Death Star is a planet, so it's huge," Curly explained. "With our ability-suppressing collars on, we need transportation to get from one area to another quickly."As if you wouldn't need transportation even without the collar… Lin Jie glanced at Curly but said nothing.Mech pilots—especially professional ones—could not have any other form of energy in their bodies if they wanted to maintain peak synchronization rates. Even their mental energy had to be pure; they couldn't use any warlock-like abilities except for neural connections to mechanical devices. Otherwise, their neural links would be disrupted, and their synchronization rates would plummet drastically.In other words, apart from their specialized training and higher combat literacy, mech pilots were no different from ordinary people in other aspects. A mech pilot without a mecha was like a warlock without mental energy or a warrior without physical strength—just an ordinary person."Hey, let's talk about you," Curly said once they boarded the hovercraft. The prison guards sat quietly in the corner, and with nothing else to do, he turned to Lin Jie. "How'd you end up here?""You dragged me here," Lin Jie replied."I mean, what crime did you commit to get sent to the Ninth Prison?" Curly said, exasperated.Lin Jie looked at him. "Do you know why I didn't ask about you and Simon's exact identities yesterday?""Why?""Because I know we haven't built trust yet. Even if you'd told me, I wouldn't have believed you.""...So?""So we still don't trust each other. If you ask me now, I won't tell you the truth either.""You won't even make up a lie to humiliate me?"Curly twitched his mouth, his interest in the conversation fizzling out. He turned his head and sat in silence, waiting.After about half an hour, Lin Jie felt the hovercraft slow down and land gently. With a loud creak, the door slid open, revealing the scene outside: countless piles of mechanical wreckage towered like mountains, broken cables lay everywhere, and the crackle of electric arcs could be faintly heard. In the distance, large machines were sorting through the garbage, and the air reeked of metal.