"Then, Nicol, please come over. I still need to conduct some basic tests with you."
"Ms. Amalfi, would you like to observe?"
Fred asked.
Given how much she doted on her son, she probably wouldn't leave even if he didn't ask.
Moreover, this was the wife of one of the founding pioneers of MS - he really wanted to have an academic exchange with Yuri.
Thinking about the potential inspiration and knowledge he could gain, he couldn't suppress the excitement in his heart.
It never hurt to get more familiar with them.
"If it's not too much trouble..."
Looking at these distinctive classmates of her son and Fred's bright eyes before her, Romina nodded somewhat helplessly.
...Had she been too hasty in concluding everything was fine earlier? It seemed like there weren't any normal people here.
"Not at all."
"Aunt Amalfi, please sit here."
Flay cooperated with her brother's words, inviting her to sit under the shade of a nearby tree.
"Thank you."
Seeing the girl's adorable appearance and that she was about the same age as her son, a faint smile appeared on Romina's face.
"Nicol, do you have any basics?"
Fred asked in a gentle tone.
"I've learned a little..."
Nicol nodded.
After all, he would become one of the top combatants in the future.
He ranked third overall in military academy, and apparently was first in bomb disposal capability.
He was absolutely a genuine genius.
Though Fred didn't understand why the military academy had such an abrupt subject as bomb disposal alongside MS, close combat, and electronic warfare.
But he roughly understood it was meant to highlight Nicol's dexterity.
However, wouldn't overall data processing capability be better?
With this subject included, he hadn't seen these Red Uniforms frequently disposing of bombs anyway.
"You attack me first, just go all out."
Thinking this, Fred smiled brightly.
Of course, despite saying this, Fred didn't lower his guard much.
Seeing his smile, the several people who knew this older brother quite well tacitly stepped back a few paces.
When Fred showed this smile, he was clearly up to no good.
"Did that Nicol offend him?Yzak, who had been sent flying twice by this same smile before, complained.
"Going to settle personal scores under the guise of duty?"
"Brother would never do that!"
Flay glared at Yzak beside her.
"I think so too. You're just more deserving of a beating."
Athrun added calmly.
"Then why are you backing away! Get up there yourself!"
Yzak looked at the two, mainly at Athrun.
This time, neither of them responded.
Athrun didn't need to say anything, and Flay understood her brother even better - this was the same smile he had when tricking her before.
Definitely nothing good.
Of course, the three of them didn't know that Fred was simply happy about finally getting close to MS.
He wasn't actually being scheming or trying to trick anyone.
"Please excuse me."
Unaware of his three new classmates' thoughts, Nicol spoke like a little adult, his entire demeanor immediately changing.
Different from his previous shyness, he now seemed more imposing.
At the same time, this Nicol charged straight toward Fred, who appeared full of openings.
The suddenly tensed calf muscle bulged with clearly visible veins as it swept through with a hint of sharp wind—quite impressive for a nine-year-old.
Yet Fred merely raised his hand and caught the opponent's calf.
The boy felt the masked man's fingers gripping his leg like iron clamps.
"..."
Despite his face flushing red with strain, the boy remained unable to break free.
Even accounting for the age difference, this overwhelming, cross-tier suppression left the boy deeply perplexed.
Though unfamiliar with the capabilities of Coordinators at this age, such strength seemed abnormal by any measure.
An Elite Coordinator? But from which family?
He knew both Yzak and Athrun, but this person was unfamiliar.
Only now did he truly understand his father's arrangement—this man was strong, unquestionably qualified to be his teacher.
Still, he couldn't surrender so easily.
Remembering his father's words urging him to do his best, the boy's expression grew resolute.
Watching from the sidelines, Athrun and Yzak showed no surprise.
Athrun worried this boy, whose temperament resembled Kira's, might be brutally thrown into the mud by Fred.
Meanwhile, Yzak curled his lips into a somewhat gleeful smile.
Flay, witnessing the scene, felt not only admiration but also a surge of determination.
She knew her abilities were lacking, but her brother had said effort would always be rewarded.
So she believed she could grow stronger too.
"Speed is acceptable. Increase your waist rotation by 6° to better balance power and speed."
Unaware of the others' complex thoughts, Fred watched the boy's increasingly fierce attacks and smiled calmly.
His confidence in offering such composed guidance stemmed from his imminent breakthrough to mastery.
On the other side, hearing Fred's words, Romina forgot her internal criticisms and felt a flicker of surprise.
Fred's combat prowess didn't necessarily mean he could teach.
Yet now, he clearly demonstrated the qualities of an excellent instructor.
Though a homemaker, as a fellow first-generation Elite, Romina recognized the reliability of Fred's advice.
Initially only intending to observe, she now felt reassured about her son's training.
If possible, she didn't want her son far from her.
But perhaps this training could also teach him self-defense.
"Continue."
Amid Romina's tangled thoughts, Fred spoke again.
"...Yes!"
After a brief silence and internal analysis, Nicol charged forward once more.
Learning from earlier experience, his stance now held greater caution.
He refrained from reckless kicks, instead advancing steadily with probing movements.
Yet throughout his feints, Fred appeared completely unaware, his posture full of openings.
"Ha!"
With a sharp cry, Nicol pivoted his waist and launched another kick at Fred.
Following Fred's advice, his attack now visibly carried more sharpness and force.
Augmented by his vocal exertion, the strike seemed even more threatening.
Vocalizing during techniques did, to some extent, facilitate power generation and amplify intensity.
When masters face off, these details can determine victory or defeat.
But this psychological warfare only applies when both opponents are evenly matched.
Fred's current ability far surpassed Nicol's.
This time, no different from last, Fred once again effortlessly caught Nicol's calf with one hand, mirroring the previous outcome.
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Elite Red Uniforms should be all-around combatants: capable of piloting Mobile Suits in battle, serving as special forces operatives on the ground, and even infiltrating enemy lines as undercover spies.
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Regarding this requirement, one could only explain it by ZAFT's early establishment period where a primary concern was confronting terrorist attacks - organized and supported assaults that created substantial demand for bomb disposal expertise.