Vera Warde rode her tricycle slowly along the street, watching the advertisements with great interest. From them, she learned quite a lot.
For example, the fact that this world actually sold mechas—something that was still under development in her previous world. She hadn't expected them to be on the market already.
That had been her own field of expertise, too. But building such machines required a fortune.
She wondered what the current technology level of this world was.
"Hey, what's that thing?"
A childish voice sounded behind her. Vera assumed it wasn't directed at her until a chubby, well‑dressed boy blocked her path, raising his chin and repeating the question.
The boy looked clean and fair, flanked by two adult bodyguards. Clearly, he wasn't of low status.
Before Vera could respond, the boy walked closer, touching the tricycle and mumbling to himself, "What kind of new mecha is this?"
Vera glanced up at the aircrafts in the sky and then at the pedestrians walking by.
Judging from what she saw, this world probably no longer had tricycles—too outdated.
The boy pointed at the cargo area behind her. "What's that part for?"
"To carry things. It can also carry people," Vera explained patiently. The boy looked rich—perhaps, she thought, she could make some money out of this.
After all, back in her engineering days, she'd closed many deals thanks to her ability to talk.
The boy frowned. "Carry people? But there's no seat back there."
"You just sit directly on it."
"Let me try."
As soon as he said that, one of the guards lifted him onto the back.
Once the boy was up, he hesitated, not sure where to sit—the surface was too dirty.
Vera glanced back and patted the horizontal rail. "Hold tight."
The boy cautiously gripped the bar in front of him. As soon as he did, the girl at the pedals started pushing the two foot‑sized planks below her feet. The strange contraption began to move slowly down the street.
The two bodyguards exchanged helpless looks—the thing was ridiculously slow.
Standing on the creaky platform, watching the scenery crawl by, the boy reached out and poked Vera's back. "Hey, this thing's pretty fun."
"Do you want it?" Vera asked. "I'll sell it to you."
After all, it was only a tricycle. She could always build another if she had materials.
The boy hesitated. "How much?" He had just come out of the materials market and didn't have much left.
"How much do you think it's worth?" she countered.
The boy answered honestly, "How about five hundred star coins?"
Vera recalled that from the ads she'd seen earlier, prices were always displayed in the lower corner:
A pack of twelve nutrient tubes cost two hundred star coins. The boy's shoes—designed by some 'master'—had been featured in an ad for ten thousand. Clearly, he was from a wealthy family.
"Five hundred? Not for sale."
She stopped the tricycle, pulled the brake, and turned toward him. "Have you seen another one of these anywhere? This whole—" she paused, realizing she didn't even know the city's name, "—this whole city has only one: mine."
The boy was round‑faced and fair‑skinned. If his bodyguards didn't interfere, Vera was confident she could persuade him easily.
"This thing has a weird design," the boy said, skeptical. "But the materials are cheap—no infusion gold at all. It's got nothing to do with mechas. If I buy it, it's just as a novelty. Five hundred is already a generous price."
Vera blinked.
Was this really something an eight‑year‑old would say?
Kids in this world were this hard to fool?
"This isn't a mecha," Vera replied seriously. "This tricycle is actually for helping kids grow taller."
He blinked. "Grow taller?"
"Right. If you pedal this often, your legs get longer. Over time, you get taller."
The boy looked confused. "Why do you need to pedal to grow taller? You can just take a gene enhancement shot."
Vera stared at him silently.
Technology really is wonderful.
"Did you make this tricycle yourself?" the boy asked.
Vera nodded. "Five thousand. No less."
This kid wasn't easy to trick, and she didn't want to waste more time.
The boy studied the welding marks. He could tell it was made from random scrap metal—poor materials—but the craftsmanship was extraordinary. It was, in its way, a piece of art.
"I'll give you five thousand five hundred," he said suddenly. "Let's be friends."
Vera narrowed her eyes. This child had been testing her from the start.
"My name's Jin Ke," the boy said with a disarming smile. "I'm a trainee mecha engineer, too."
Too?
So he thought she was one as well.
"Deal," Vera said calmly.
Jin Ke jumped down and tapped the holographic bracelet on his wrist. "What's your account number? I'll transfer it to you."
Vera rolled up her sleeve—her wrist was bare, spotless, nothing there.
Jin Ke's expression shifted slightly.
In this era, people without wrist terminals were of only two kinds: fugitives, or those too poor to afford one.
Their planet, Star3212, was one of the poorest within the Federation—so poor it didn't even have a name, just a number. Even so, it was rare to find someone who couldn't afford a terminal. Without one, you could hardly do anything.
Judging by her age, she didn't look like a fugitive herself—more like the child of one.
"Where can I buy a wrist‑com?" Vera asked, recalling the old man's memories. He'd had one, but never taught the child how to use it before he died.
Jin Ke's eyes brightened. "I can take you to get one."
In the end, one of the guards took the tricycle, and Jin Ke brought Vera onto a hovering bus to buy a new terminal. Along the way, he eagerly explained things.
"Trainee mecha engineers are people preparing to become real ones. If your perceptive sense scores high enough at age sixteen, you can go to a military academy and study the field. It pays great!" He gave a thumbs‑up.
Outwardly, Vera stayed calm, but inside she was thrilled.
She loved this sort of thing—related to her old profession and lucrative to boot!
Right then and there, she decided: her future path in this world would be to become a mecha engineer.
While Jin Ke chatted, Vera glanced aside—one child was crying to his mother, begging for toys. She looked back at Jin Ke and finally understood.
It wasn't that all children here were mature—Jin Ke was just unusually precocious.
He acted simple and naive but had a calculating mind.
He didn't pry about her situation, yet every line he spoke conveniently explained something she needed to know.
The hovering bus moved fast; soon they arrived. Jin Ke led her into a shopping center.
Unlike the markets from her old world, this one was gleaming white and filled with holographic displays.
Vera watched a clerk smile to a customer, then pull a large rack out of what had appeared to be empty space, fully stocked with goods. No one around seemed surprised.
Spatial folding technology, Vera judged silently.
They stopped at one counter. "Here we are," Jin Ke said.
Vera looked up at the clerk. "Which is the cheapest wrist‑com you have?"
The clerk smiled. "This new model is three thousand star coins. We have one remaining old model for two thousand five hundred."
"I'll take the old one," said Vera.
Jin Ke paid for it, helped her register her information, and input her details.
Name: Vera Warde
Age: 7
He pointed at another field. "You can set your terminal ID and voice here."
Vera thought for a moment, then typed four words.
Beep—
A gentle male electronic voice said, "Registration complete. User ID: Begging_in_the_Shadows."
The clerk twitched at the corners of his mouth. "…"
Jin Ke, however, was perfectly smooth about it and immediately transferred the remaining three thousand star coins to her account.
When they walked out of the mall, Vera asked, "How can I become a trainee mecha engineer?"
"First you enroll in a prep school. At sixteen, they test your perceptive sense. If you meet the requirement, you can enter the military academy," he explained. "We only have one prep school here on 3212 Star—it's called 3212 Academy. Enrollment period's ending soon. You should go check it out! Who knows, we might end up classmates."
He bumped her elbow and lowered his voice. "Do your parents even let you go to school?"
"Hmm?" said Vera.
"Come on," he grinned. "Only people hiding their identity don't have a wrist‑com. You can't be that poor."
"I really am that poor."
"Really? I don't believe it."
In his mind, there was no way a person too poor to buy a terminal could build such a clever machine.
Clearly, she was someone hiding her identity—maybe even the child of some fugitive genius!
Just like in his favorite series, The Man from the Nameless Planet or The Rise of the Fugitive Engineer!
Before Vera could ask more, one of his guards hurried back. "Young Master, it's time to go home."
"I've got to run. Contact me later!" Jin Ke waved and left.
When he was gone, Vera didn't leave immediately. She crouched in a corner and started studying the terminal. It worked similarly to a smartphone—within a short while she'd mastered all its functions.
The first thing she searched for was "infusion gold."
It turned out to be a special alloy used specifically in mechas—highly extendable, extremely durable.
Since its discovery, it had been the core material for military equipment and mecha construction, and only in the last century had it become available for civilian use.
Reading the description, Vera felt a strong interest rising within her.
By now it was already three in the afternoon.
She had left the junkyard in the morning, sold her tricycle, and walking back would take until the next day.
Maybe there was transport to the dump? She searched again and found Bus Line 9—passing the junkyard at 5 a.m. and 5 p.m., fare ten star coins.
Since there was still time, she looked up the routes to 3212Academy and saw plenty of options.
Without hesitation, she boarded the nearest hovering bus and went there to check it out.
At the academy gate, the place was crowded—parents with children all jostling to read the announcements.
Taking advantage of her small size, Vera squeezed through to the front and saw that today was the final day for registration.
Before she could finish reading, the crowd pushed her out again.
Not wanting to waste time, she scanned the area.
There were two registration desks outside the gate, each with a long line and a teacher seated behind it.
She went straight over. Beside one desk floated a large virtual sign:
ClassATuition:5,000CreditsperTerm
Vera: "…"
Today was the last day of registration, but she didn't have anywhere near that much money.
However… the other desk had a different sign:
ClassBTuition:1,000CreditsperTerm.
Bonus:Top students will receive5,000–20,000creditsafter the final exams.
So much cheaper!
It must be the lower class—but if she worked hard and earned the bonus, she could even make a profit.
Vera immediately joined the line for ClassB.
After waiting an hour, it was her turn.
The teacher looked around for an adult. Seeing none, she finally focused on the little girl.
"Enrollment?"
Vera nodded.
The teacher handed her a form. "Fill this out."
When she finished, the teacher glanced over it again. "You're sure you want Class B?"
"Yes," she said firmly.
A weak class didn't matter—as long as she could study.
Already, Vera was imagining herself acing the final exams and winning the highest scholarship, never worrying about tuition again.
"Classes start tomorrow," the teacher said, collecting the form. "Be here by six a.m. sharp."
Back in the abandoned building, Vera used her terminal to learn more about this world.
She discovered that there were three most popular career paths: Commanders, Mecha Engineers, and Mecha Soldiers.
In Federation Year 3701, a beast‑swarm outbreak nearly destroyed the galaxy. Fifty years later, mechas were invented, giving humanity a chance to fight back. In 4001, a man named Yu Qingfei designed the first Leap‑Type Mecha, marking a new era.
That year became known as the AresAge.
From then on, the Federation fought back fiercely.
Except for the century‑interval beast tides that still caused trouble, life was mostly peaceful now.
Vera became fascinated by the history of this world—and forgot to look up details about 3212 Academy.
So when she arrived the next morning to report in—
she was completely shocked.