The system's notification faded from his consciousness.
Han Feng's gaze fell on the chipped enamel bowl in front of him.
In his Perception, this was no longer an ordinary bowl of meat broth.
Wisps of faint golden light, points of energy, were rising from the broth.
This was the Spiritual Energy Essence contained within the flesh of the Iron Feather Bird.
He drank the meat broth.
The points of energy slid down his throat and into his stomach, where a burst of warmth exploded.
The next moment, he could clearly "see" the bones in his body glowing.
A strange suction force emerged.
It pulled in all the points of energy, crushing them and refining them into pure Qi Blood.
The transformation of his "Sword Bone" didn't just strengthen his Root Bone; it had also drastically increased his efficiency at absorbing energy.
It was as if he were born to devour large mouthfuls of energy.
Han Feng hesitated no longer.
He downed the meat broth in a few large gulps.
He didn't even spare the bits of meat at the bottom of the bowl.
Seeing him eat like a starving ghost reincarnated, Pang Hu's honest face broke into a wide grin, happier than if he had eaten it himself.
Once the broth was down, the fatigue in his body was quickly dispelled.
His depleted Qi Blood was replenished, and a healthy color gradually returned to his face.
Seeing that Han Feng was alright, his three roommates finally let out a collective sigh of relief.
"DING—"
Just then, the terminals on the four roommates' wrists chimed almost simultaneously with a crisp notification sound.
That sound was exclusive to the maintenance team's internal group chat.
Xiaoli reacted the fastest, swiping his finger across the screen and scanning the message.
The lazy look on his face vanished instantly.
He shot up from his chair.
"Holy shit!"
"A big job!"
"A real big job is here!"
His shout startled Pang Hu, who was about to wash the bowl, making his hand tremble.
That treasured enamel bowl was almost smashed to pieces on the spot.
"What are you screaming about? You scared the hell out of me."
Pang Hu patted his chest, muttering in dissatisfaction as he also swiped open his terminal.
The next second, an even louder, rougher gasp echoed in the dorm.
"HISS—"
"One pound of Tier One Demon Beast Flesh?"
"And five hundred Contribution Points?"
"Has Old Liao lost his mind? Is he trying to go broke?"
Zhou Wen, who had been reading quietly, also pushed up his glasses.
His gaze, from behind the lenses, fixed on the screen.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the terminal.
"It's a task posted personally by Director Liao Ming."
"Tomorrow morning, the Aviation Division is receiving a batch of damaged 'Hunting Falcon' fighter jets for full maintenance and repair."
"The notice says that the person with the most outstanding performance on this mission will be personally funded by Director Liao with a reward of 500 Contribution Points, plus one pound of breast meat from a Tier One Iron Feather Bird."
Han Feng leaned against the head of his bed, looking at the information on the screen. A sharp glint flashed in the depths of his eyes.
Five hundred Contribution Points and a pound of Demon Beast Flesh.
For D Level Students like them, struggling at the very bottom, this reward was an absolute windfall.
You have to understand, after a whole month of thankless grunt work in the maintenance department, enduring everyone's sour faces, their stipend was only a thousand points.
This one job was worth half a month of blood and sweat.
Not to mention that pound of Demon Beast Flesh.
In the Fortress City today, that stuff was hard currency.
It was the hope for a Body Tempering Realm Martial Artist to break through their bottleneck.
Pang Hu treasured even that bowl of broth with meat scraps; a solid pound of prime flesh was enough to make a Low Tier Martial Artist in the Body Tempering Realm's Qi Blood Value skyrocket.
"Hunting Falcon…"
Han Feng murmured the name softly.
In East Sea Fortress City, the "Hunting Falcon" fighter jet was a legend.
It was tough, durable, and had massive potential for modification.
It was beloved by countless Martial Artists and junior pilots.
Mastering the maintenance techniques for the "Hunting Falcon" was equivalent to securing a golden rice bowl.
It was the entrance exam for all C Level Technicians, and a great mountain standing before apprentices like them.
"I have to seize this opportunity!"
Xiaoli slammed his terminal on the table with a SMACK, a wildfire burning in his eyes.
"The money and the meat are secondary. What's crucial is Old Liao's attitude!"
He spun around, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the dorm.
His voice was low, yet it carried an unprecedented gravity.
"We're all third-years. We only have one year left."
"If we can't get promoted to C Level Technician, we'll be packed up and thrown to the Pioneer Points to be cannon fodder after graduation."
"And if you want to take the C Level assessment, you must have a recommendation letter from an instructor."
"Our group doesn't have a single spot right now!"
The words "cannon fodder" landed heavily on everyone's heart.
The goofy look on Pang Hu's face completely vanished, replaced by anxiety and fear for the future.
'Pioneer Points?'
'That's not a place for people. It's a resource meat grinder that you feed with human lives!'
Zhou Wen adjusted his glasses and looked at Han Feng, analyzing calmly, "Out of the four of us, Mad Feng has the best shot."
"Old Liao might be rigid, but he recognizes Mad Feng's skill the most."
"This mission is most likely Old Liao paving the way for him."
Han Feng shook his head and sat up straight in bed.
"Old Liao only recognizes skill, not people."
"If I screw up tomorrow, he'll chew me out so bad I'll be shitting myself. I can forget about the reward and the recommendation letter."
That being said, Han Feng knew better than anyone else.
'This is my chance.'
'For the Contribution Points, for the Demon Beast Flesh, and even more so, for that recommendation letter that could decide my fate!'
"Enough talk. Study!"
Xiaoli let out a low growl and dragged a metal box out from under his bed.
He pulled out the book, thick enough to kill someone with: the *Falcon First Generation Fighter Jet Maintenance and Service Manual*.
"Nobody sleeps tonight!"
"We're gonna out-study those bastards next door!"
Pang Hu was fired up too. He grabbed a book, his expression solemn.
In an instant, the only sound in the cramped dorm was the RUSTLE of flipping pages.
Han Feng turned on his desk lamp too.
In the dim yellow light, he didn't look at the maintenance manual he already knew by heart.
He opened a much more complex book: *Basic Principles of the Spiritual Energy Engine*.
'What I want isn't just to complete the mission.'
'I want a performance that crushes the competition!'
'I'm going to make Liao Ming willingly hand that recommendation letter to me with his own two hands!'
His attention was completely immersed in the complex Spiritual Energy Circuits and Energy Cycle Models.
As he looked, a strange connection suddenly formed in his mind.
The Spiritual Energy Engine's booster circuit compressed, guided, and then unleashed Spiritual Power.
Its core principle was surprisingly similar to the Technique in the *Sword Control Technique* for mobilizing Qi Blood and infusing it into a "Flying Sword"!
A bold idea exploded in his mind.
'What if…'
'What if I viewed the fighter jet as a complex "Flying Sword," magnified countless times?'
'Then isn't so-called mechanical repair just a matter of combing through the "Flying Sword's" meridians and balancing its "Qi Blood"?'
At that moment, the cold diagrams and data in the book seemed to come alive!
They were no longer dead mechanical structures.
But something that could be understood, something to resonate with!
Just as he was immersed in this profound epiphany, the cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind once more.
[DING!]
[Host detected learning a Professional Skill and touching upon the underlying Law...]
[Professional Skill triggered—"Mechanical Truth"]
[Current Progress: Entry Level (0/100)]