Chapter 11: Apostle-Class Mechanics
Luo Xiu had disclosed the bulk of the story, concealing only the information that would be inconvenient for outsiders to know.
For instance, a major reason why he, a young master of the Luo family, was being hunted without regard for the cost was that he had obtained the “Key” to Donghuang Heavy Industry.
Once the Inquisition had set their sights on Luo Xiu, they certainly wouldn’t leave him alive. This was the reason for their collective retreat.
Although Luo Xiu wasn’t the first in line for the family succession, his status was by no means low.
When he had voluntarily renounced the Luo City succession to become an investigator in the remote Gusu City, no one knew how many of his rivals had woken up in the middle of the night laughing with joy.
The key was something he had stolen from the pocket of a knight-captain. It could open the final protective door of the enterprise’s warehouse; legend had it that behind that door lay a mechanical creation of incalculable value.
Whether used by the Omnic Legion or dismantled for parts to be installed in machine-modified humans, the potential gains were enough to make even the top financial conglomerates’ hearts race.
Xiang Nanli was puzzled: [That mecha… it is a mecha, right? Even if it’s impressive, it’s something from hundreds of years ago. Isn’t it obsolete?]
In the era he lived in, a ten-year-old mobile phone was considered an electronic antique. He couldn’t imagine what a metal body left idle for six hundred years would look like. Was it bronze-colored?
The System replied: [It’s not necessarily a mecha. Generally speaking, mechanical creations with powerful capabilities are categorized into three levels.]
[From low to high: Glory-class, Disaster-class, and Apostle-class.]
Xiang Nanli was distracted for a moment, asking: [What’s the difference?]
[Nuclear weapons don’t count as mechanics, but their power is roughly equivalent to ‘Glory-class.’]
[A year ago, the Omnic Legion leader, Alpha, attempted to activate space-based weapons on Satellite No. 2. That space weapon was categorized as ‘Disaster-class.’]
[As for the legendary Apostle-class mechanics; according to the concepts left behind by Xiang Nanli, there are supposed to be four. Their forms are unknown. Only their names have survived.]
For some reason, Alpha’s voice sounded mocking and playful.
Xiang Nanli was covered in question marks: These mechanical classifications sound both cringe-worthy and pretentious… wait, what do you mean “according to the concepts left behind by me”??
Lying on Xin Zhui’s back, for the first time, he felt that his own brain was as much of a decorative vase as his face.
[Frequent warfare and hasty evacuations caused humanity to lose a vast amount of technology related to machinery. That is why humanity frequently launches surface surveys. Technology even suffered a generational break.]
[However, what’s surprising is that the Omnic Legion hasn’t been able to build higher-level machinery either… Heh, but it’s natural for machines to only mimic and not innovate.]
[Current machine manufacturing technology is no better than it was hundreds of years ago. Moreover, some machines use non-renewable space-grade materials. Today, most highly anticipated mechanical creations are only ‘Glory-class.’ During the First Machine War, they wouldn’t have even qualified as legion commanders.]
[If this mechanical body is truly what Donghuang Heavy Industry prepared for Alpha, it should at least be on the level of a ‘Disaster-class’ machine, right?] The System muttered to itself. [So why would mutants be congregating toward this location? It can’t possibly be to remind the Investigation Bureau that there’s an anomaly here.]
There was too little information; the System’s questions were destined to remain unanswered.
Bodhi unplugged the sensor cable connected to his brain, his face deathly pale, gasping for breath. He held up a black chip: “I hacked the backend and opened a temporary employee privilege. We can go in.”
Xiang Nanli felt a twinge of pity. Using a human brain as a computer was truly a cruel and mysterious technology. He heard that the attrition rate for these network security officers was higher every year than that of the combat personnel.
Xiang Nanli followed behind Xin Zhui through the giant metal door.
“Verification passed.”
A mechanical voice echoed in his ears.
The air-raid shelter near the factory was clearly not so simple. As they entered the second basement level, the architecture felt distinctly modern, with walls cast from metal. The entire floor had an ominous chill. It was hard to describe—perhaps it came from the pursuit on the surface, or perhaps from the red lights of the security monitors flashing overhead.
“What is this place? An underground production workshop?” Xin Zhui frowned.
The basement was an icy stone-gray. Centuries had passed, yet the workshop still had a trace amount of backup power. Detecting people in the corridor, the lights turned on automatically. Somewhere, water was seeping in, with obvious lime debris soaking into the ankles of their boots; broken wires lay on the ground. Rusted metal parts were left to soak in the water with indifference.
Bodhi touched his prayer beads, speaking lethargically: “Doesn’t matter what it is. Xin Zhui, check the situation on the ground. I’ll try to hack into the enterprise backend and find an exit for this underground shelter.”
The workshop office had glass doors; when touched, patterns lit up on the glass screen, demanding a password. Fortunately, this didn’t stump Bodhi. He pulled a book-sized laptop from his bag and typed a long string of numbers. A few minutes later, the glass doors slid open.
Xiang Nanli, the “primitive man,” watched with excitement, his eyes sparkling: [That’s so cool. How did he do that?]
Alpha: [Basic network intrusion technology. It’s nothing special.]
It held back the urge to add “anyone could do it.”
“I scanned it. There are actually two security robots in the corner. But they haven’t been triggered or activated yet, so just ignore them for now,” Bodhi said. He then sat down at the office desk and started working. “Or, Xin Zhui, why don’t you go see what model they are and if they can be dismantled for Xiu to use?”
Even though they were being hunted by the Knights of the Apocalypse and their most powerful combatant was basically crippled, the entire team maintained an inexplicable sense of confidence and composure. This investigation team was definitely a high-spec elite group; putting them in Gusu City would be a “dimensional strike” in terms of capability.
When a normal investigator encountered the Knights of the Apocalypse, their first reaction would be “strategic retreat” and reporting—in plain terms, running away. But Luo Xiu’s first reaction was, “Let me see what these guys are up to.” Following a captain like that, everyone had become accustomed to crises. Finding a way to solve the problem was what mattered.
Xiang Nanli once again threw himself into his work. The environment here wasn’t as crude as before, but materials and tools were in short supply. The lights weren’t very bright, straining his eyes.
He was assembling the mechanical arm he hadn’t finished repairing. Xin Zhui, meanwhile, followed the direction Bodhi pointed to search for the two security robots.
Terrifying sounds of fighting drifted in from outside. Xiang Nanli couldn’t help but look up toward the source, but he could only see a blur of electrical sparks.
Xiao Yan patted his head, her voice sounding maternal: “Don’t worry about it. It’s Xin Zhui doing some ‘trash collection.’ You keep assembling yours.”
Half an hour later, Xin Zhui returned to the office carrying two scrapped robots. He tossed the iron blocks in front of Xiang Nanli: “See if these can be used. At the very least, he needs to be able to stand up. Having to be pushed around every time is too much of a drag, Young Master.”
Xiu’s tone was apologetic: “I am very sorry. I will be more careful next time.”
Xiang Nanli dismantled the robots Xin Zhui brought back and checked them: “The wires are burnt, and the central chip is ruined.” Xin Zhui, pursuing efficiency and simplicity, had used electric shocks, which destroyed the robots’ central systems.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Xiu’s eyes. Being a burden was hard for him to accept.
Xiang Nanli’s voice paused, then softened: “But they can still be used. Don’t worry, I’ll get you back on your feet.” His words radiated immense confidence. Whether it was a bluff or not, in such a jittery moment, it was incredibly soothing.
Xiang Nanli’s hands moved; the robots, once intact, were broken down into metal parts faster than a master butcher carving an ox. One could see the basic skills of a mechanical technician through his familiarity with the components. And this keen eye couldn’t be practiced through “consensus” technology. It was hard to imagine that Xiang Nanli had only been defrosted from his cryo-pod a month ago.
Xiang Nanli assembled an arm at top speed and began installing it on Luo Xiu. He muttered to himself: “Electric pulse… alignment point, confirmed. Power line, correct. Mechanical core, startup state, confirmed.”
After a tense debugging process, with a light “click,” the mechanical arm was installed on Luo Xiu.
Xiang Nanli reached into his protective suit and wiped the sweat from his forehead: “Try it out. Does it work?”
This was basically re-creating a body. Even if it was just the most basic mechanical structure, without any special parts or materials, it seemed like it didn’t require high-level technology—but if anyone other than Xiang Nanli had been snatched by Xin Zhui, they would currently be staring blankly at a pile of parts in the underground shelter.
Xiu tentatively moved the arm, which let out a “bzz” sound of electrical current as it shook.
“It works.” He let out a sigh of relief. Luo Xiu still had that much judgment: “As long as there is no structural damage, it can be used until it breaks down.”
A smile finally appeared on Xiang Nanli’s serious face: “As long as it works. This is just the beginning; we’ve only installed two arms. The torso and legs all need to be repaired… The two robots Xin Zhui brought down had some weapon devices installed; I’ll dismantle those and install them for you.”
Against ordinary people, those weapon systems would still have a significant advantage.
Bodhi, sitting at the desk, spoke up: “The Crusaders are tracking us.” He turned the computer screen toward Xiu’s position: “Look.”
The screen displayed real-time video. Amid the snow-covered valley, the cavalry riding mechanical horses moved leisurely, seemingly searching for something. Above them circled black three-eyed crows, and beside the horses’ hooves, mutants scuttled and crawled, constantly sniffing for scents.
Those mindless, blood-red mutants—or rather, giant red lizards—were as obedient as hunting dogs around the Knights of the Apocalypse. They didn’t even launch attacks on the knights. The meters-thick snow had no effect on their sense of smell. A mutant hissed toward a patch of white snow.
The tall black knight dismounted and stepped on the fluffy, soft snow with his foot.
“Dig,” the man said.
Xiang Nanli could guess that this was the entrance to the air-raid shelter.
The crow flew closer, and its broad wings crashed into the hidden surveillance camera. It lowered its head and swallowed the metal eye into its belly. The Black Cross Inquisition had not only been conducting genetic modifications all these years but had also created many useful mutant animals. For example, scout crows that automatically sensed metal.
The screen went pitch black.
Xiang Nanli asked: “Does this mean they are very close to us?”
“Yes,” Xiao Yan’s voice was hoarse. “Very close. If we can’t find an exit, we can only play hide-and-seek with them underground. Are you scared, kid?”
Xiang Nanli: “I’m 48.”
Xiao Yan glanced at him: “Really? Your body is at most 20. My naked eye can analyze that… We need to speed up. We have two hours left.”
