From the very beginning, specifically from the moment they pissed me off during the entrance exams, the Longs were destined to be the biggest losers of the year.

I had my sights on them like a ferocious mountain tiger eyeing a bunch of cute little baby goats.

Okay fine, not baby goats.

Sorry goats.

Like a bunch of newborn ugly monsters, I mean.

They were an arrogant, entitled and downright annoying bunch of high class kids who loved to bully the weak, and take advantage of those without strength.

They made other weaker groups of kids give way to them wherever they went, and made the particularly weak ones serve their every little whimsy and desire.

Their treatment of Tes was clear evidence of their rotten character.

I hated their kind with a deep vengeance.

Because even within the lowest class where I had lived for many years, bullies like them were present.

Just because they had the backing of adult gangs, and just because they were bigger and stronger, they bullied the younger and weaker scrappers to the maximum.

One of the reasons why I didn't have many friends was because of them. Not many young scrappers survived their bullying.

For the longest time, I hated their kind very, very, very much.

And at that moment during the Grand Melee, through an ironic twist of fate, I happened to have the strength and the legal avenue to give the proudest, richest and most high class of all bullies a good beating.

And I will be damned if I let them go easily.

Oh yes, I had no mercy for them.

Against them, I had absolutely no qualms going all out. I wanted to take their pride and their confidence, and I wanted to rip them apart into a million pieces. After that, I wanted to stomp on the remains and make sure that their arrogance and pride were so completely smashed apart that they would not be able to recover them even if they suddenly became the king of the world.

One way or another, I knew I would beat the crap out of them, and then beat them some more while I had the chance!

I stared at the group of mechas belonging to the Longs and quickly memorized them.

"33 of them, divided into three groups, each led by one within the top hundred with a green glow. They must be Victor Long, Hailey Long and Gerald Long.

And all 33 are.. heavy mechas." My eyes narrowed in anger.

Of course I knew how they got their hands on so many heavy mechas for each and every member of their group.

Bullying and intimidation.

"Not a single one of you would leave this Grand Melee without psychological trauma!" I vowed.

"Surround him!" Victor Long snapped at his goons. Immediately, all 32 heavy mechas burst into action.

The Victor Long stayed in his place directly in front of me, while Gerald and Hailey Long took positions at my four and eight o'clock.

The remaining thirty heavy mechas formed a tight circle around us, ready to support their three leaders and sneak in an attack or two at me when the opportunity presented itself.

"I am going to make sure this doesn't end too quickly for you." Victor Long snarled.

"Took the words right out of my mouth." I said with a cold laugh. "Now that you've finished drinking your momma's milk, come to daddy, little babies."

I stretched out my mecha arm and gave them the fing- ah, I mean, I gave them a thumbs down.

"Let's see how you'll keep spouting nonsense once I've ripped your limbs out!" Victor Long shouted. "Get him!"

Hailey and Gerald Long leapt in with their swords and hammers swinging.

Although the Longs were bullies, they weren't like your backyard bullies who were just big and mostly victims of bullies themselves when they were younger.

The Longs were professional bullies, if there were such a thing. They were extremely well trained and skilled.

Even though they had 33 mechas on their side, they merely sent in two to deal with me. If they sent in more than two to deal with me, they would end up stepping on each other's toes.

It would take a team that had spent many hours training together to be able to attack a single target efficiently with three people.

WHAM!

Gerald's hammer smashed on my upraised right arm which was positioned to block him.

WHAM!

Hailey's sword smashed onto my left arm.

historical

Their attacks were launched very skillfully, with perfect body rotations and angles that all worked to deliver the strongest and most devastating attack their mechas could unleash.

In fact, they were so skillful that I estimate they must have unleashed 50% more power compared to the other kids.

How do I know that?

I know because that their weapon wielding arms shattered at the joints the moment their attacks landed!

When two objects of similar density and strength collide at a collision strength that the object material still could handle, nothing much except a loud sound would be produced.

This was exactly what happened mostly through out the Grand Melee.

The practice mechas had high armor and that allowed them to take a beating without breaking. They were, afterall, practice mechas.

However, when two objects of vastly different densities and strengths collide, the weaker object would crumble. Much like an automobile crashing into a tank, or an airplane crashing to the ground.

Hailey and Gerald Long's weapon wielding arms were autonobiles to my tank. Cheap ones, at that.

As soon as they realized their arms were completely out of the picture, they leapt back immediately and shouted for their goons to attack with their rifles.

"Soften him up first! FIRE!" Gerald Long shouted loudly.

"HAHAHA! You think I will let you get away now that you've delivered yourself to me? Stay here and be my meat shield!" I shouted and dashed forward with impossible speed.

I grabbed Gerald Long's arm and immediately pulled him towards me to help me block a few of the rifle attacks.

I didn't need him to block for me, of course.

But it felt good to let him "die" under friendly fire.

He would never forget that the moment he said "FIRE!" was the moment he sealed his own fate!

PEW! PEW! PEW! PEW!

All thirty goons opened fire with rifles they probably got from their victims earlier.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Their rifle beams smashed onto Gerald Long and me! More on Gerald Long, of course, since I was actively swinging him about to make sure he absorbed as many of his goons' attacks as possible.

"NOOO!!! DON'T SHOOT AT ME DAMN YOU!!" He roared loudly at his goons who tried their very best to avoid shooting at him.

But who was I?

I was a Mecha Pilot with an RPL of over 95! I swung Gerald Long's mecha with great precision to soak up all the rifle fire!

"STOP! STOP ATTACKING DAMN YO-"

But that was all he managed to scream out before his heavy mecha powered down in defeat!

Gerald Long, a top 100 participant of the National Mecha Pilot Academy's Grand Melee, had fallen!

He was the first among the top 100 to fall, and he fell to me!

Justin Whitefrost, Junkyard Scrapper!