Chapter 32: “Xiang Nanli, You Are Xiang Nanli.”
The Advanced Life Selection Tournament. Because the organizing committee shared a rather murky relationship with the Black Cross Inquisition, and because the event itself fell under the category of unrestricted, no-holds-barred fighting, it always felt a bit clandestine despite the massive hype surrounding it.
The venue for this selection tournament was located 500 kilometers away from Gusu City. According to satellite maps, it sat near a human settlement known as the “Eternal City.”
The club had specifically chartered a vehicle for the trip, which closely resembled a freight truck. A heavily cybernetic driver and his robotic assistant handled the driving upfront, while the passengers sat inside the cargo bay. Supposedly, this configuration significantly reduced the probability of passengers hijacking the driver. In some standard passenger sedans, iron bars were even installed between the front and back rows.
The cargo bay was fairly spacious, fitted with seats that could be folded down into military cots. The welded marks on the seats suggested they had been scavenged from some ill-fated passenger buses.
Xiang Nanli reclined on his lounger, his heart tingling with a faint sense of anticipation. After all, this was his first time traveling to a human settlement outside the jurisdiction of the Human Alliance.
However, that anticipation rapidly plummeted after they left the borders of Gusu City.
The further they traveled from the city, the worse the road conditions became. It began as a wide asphalt highway, which soon degraded into dirt roads and broken paths. Eventually, the road vanished entirely, leaving nothing but deep tire tracks carved into wild, overgrown weeds. Everyone inside the vehicle bounced around restlessly, shaken violently enough to throw up the previous night’s dinner.
Yet, as Xiang Nanli observed the others, he seemed to be the only one suffering. Is it because I don’t have a cybernetic iron stomach installed? Absolute envy.
It was currently winter, the clouds were thick, and the sky darkened early. Even though it was only 3:00 PM, not a single source of light could be seen outside.
Xiang Nanli slid open the small window’s sunshade. Outside lay a dense, crushing darkness—resembling the deep sea and outer space all at once. The surface area of the Earth was far too vast, and the vast majority of these no-man’s-lands generated zero economic value. The Human Alliance wasn’t about to allocate funds to pave highways across the surface, let alone install streetlights.
Besides, spotting light in an environment like this wasn’t necessarily a good thing. More often than not, it meant a band of ruthless bandits was prowling nearby.
Xiang Nanli closed the window shade and nudged Dongfang Qingdi’s arm. “Xiao Qing, tell me about the surface.”
The Human Common Knowledge database built into his system provided very brief summaries regarding the surface. Yet, back in the day, nearly four-fifths of humanity had been left behind up here. They were the abandoned people, known to history as the “Surface Remnants.”
The Human Alliance had once solemnly promised that they would never abandon their compatriots! They claimed that once the construction of the underground cities was fully completed and more living space was generated, they would eventually come back to bring the surface dwellers home.
Everyone could see how that promise turned out. At present, if someone from the surface wished to immigrate underground, the difficulty was astronomical. The required Citizen Points alone would completely drain the accumulated wealth of four generations.
Originally, the surface fell under the Alliance’s jurisdiction as well, constantly funneling resources into the subterranean depths.
Yet, disintegration took only three generations. The first generation believed; the second generation doubted; by the third generation, their faith collapsed entirely, replaced by deep-seated resentment. Since the dissolution of the surface factions of the Human Alliance, the ground level had turned into a scattered mess of independent forces, unable to form a unified front.
Dongfang Qingdi replied, [I only possess data from centuries ago. Since the collapse of the surface Alliance organizations, numerous factions and powers have emerged, though none survived for long.]
For instance, he had never even heard of this so-called “Eternal City” they were currently heading toward.
The surface humans faced a brutal onslaught of extreme weather, rogue Omnics, mutants, and nuclear radiation, yet they stubbornly clung to life. It was nothing short of a miracle. Centuries ago, AI simulations predicted that the billions left on the surface would dwindle to a mere 100,000 within 300 years—essentially a natural extinction.
While no official organization had conducted a census of the surface population recently, it undoubtedly far exceeded 100,000.
Currently, the most powerful faction on the surface was the Black Cross Inquisition. The Human Alliance categorized it as a cult and a terrorist organization. Aside from a profound revulsion toward their extensive biological human experimentation, part of the reason stemmed from the sheer pressure the Alliance felt from the Inquisition’s growing influence.
“How do the people on the surface survive out here? Even I have to wear a protective suit, but they don’t have access to them, do they?”
Sirius, who had remained silent all this time, interjected, “They don’t. I don’t know how it was in the past, but for the last two centuries, the ascetic monks of the Inquisition’s missionary councils have been distributing ‘Holy Medicine’ across various human settlements. It’s actually a type of Gene Serum, though it differs somewhat from the official, regulated ones. Those with decent natural talent stand a chance at unlocking their genetic locks, allowing them to remain completely unaffected by the extreme surface environment. Take me, for example. The descendants born from these humans also inherit a certain level of radiation resistance, allowing them to live normally in mildly polluted zones.”
The Human Alliance constantly ran propaganda claiming that the Inquisition’s Holy Medicine was toxic. Across the cloud network, entertainment videos depicting “sudden deaths after consuming the Holy Medicine” circulated endlessly. In the videos, a youth would drink the serum, and within a brief half-hour, his skin would turn a bruised purple. He would writhe and howl in agony on the dirt, frantically clawing away at his own flesh until he literally flayed himself to death.
Logically speaking, such gory videos should have been flagged and blocked immediately by the censorship AI, “Tian Yan” (Heavenly Eye). Yet for over a century, fresh iterations of similar videos constantly leaked onto the web. Perhaps they simply feared that the underground citizens might start longing for free Holy Medicine.
Andrew added, “Actually, the newborns in the underground are also evolving in this direction. Grade 1 Gene Serums aren’t that expensive; if you save up a bit, you can easily afford one. If you have medical insurance, half the cost can even be reimbursed. Xiang Nanli, it’s just your body that’s too fragile. That’s why you require the highest grade of protection. I sincerely recommend undergoing a mechanical modification. Right now, ordering a cybernetic prosthetic from our hospital comes with a 30% discount…”
He was right in the middle of attempting to beam a digital advertisement across.
However, halfway through his pitch, he abruptly collided with a gaze from Dongfang Qingdi that looked as though he were staring at a dead man.
Andrew felt his mechanical heart drop a beat. He quickly changed his tune, “Of course, preserving a natural body is also excellent. After all, cybernetic modification is completely irreversible… The so-called limb regeneration technology merely utilizes a type of cancer-like body tissue; it completely lacks the bone and fiber structures of a normal human. Furthermore, every instance of limb regeneration draws heavily upon the body’s original somatic cells, resulting in massive physical depletion.”
This explained why Sirius appeared so much weaker than standard fighters—skeletally thin with sunken cheeks, looking entirely uncharacteristic of a boxer. The mutations had consumed his original body, and he lacked a superior energy source to replenish it. The fact that he hadn’t died yet while fighting underground deathmatches was entirely thanks to his genetic mutations.
Xiang Nanli opened his mouth to reply, but the truck suddenly slammed on the brakes, nearly throwing everyone clear off their seats.
A dozen seconds later, the driver’s apologetic voice crackled through the comms: “Apologies, it felt like something darted past just now? The radar didn’t pick it up. But it vanished in the blink of an eye. Let me check the surveillance footage.”
Half a minute later, the truck restarted. The heavy tires—comparable to an icebreaker’s—crushed their way along the desolate mountain path, leaving the crisp snaps of flattening vines and slender branches in their wake.
The projector on the ceiling began casting the recorded footage onto the opposite white wall.
The surveillance recorded at only 24 frames per second. As the black-and-white frames ticked by one by one, all that appeared was a blurry white shadow. The entire clip lasted less than 0.2 seconds; a normal human eye wouldn’t have registered it at all. It was only because the driver had cybernetic eyes installed that he had received an automated system alert.
“Although it’s blurry, we can perform a simulated reconstruction based on the preceding and succeeding frames… Let’s see. If we upscale and restore the image, the thing that just darted past might look like this?”
A slender silhouette materialized on the screen.
It possessed limbs similar to a human, but its torso was incredibly elongated. Its entire body was a stark, blood-red color. The proportions of its head were completely alien, resembling a serpent’s head but far more flattened, its face entirely encrusted with scales.
It was difficult to tell whether it was walking upright or crawling. If it was walking upright, the posture leaned far too forward. If it was crawling, its forelimbs were completely raised off the ground…
Ryan frowned. “What on earth is that? Driver, have you seen this before?”
“Uh. Mutants come in all shapes and sizes. Who knows what those animals turn into after genetic pollution…” The driver’s tone carried an uncertain edge. “I’ve never seen this particular species before. It might be a newly emerged mutation that hasn’t formed a pack yet. Don’t worry, it looks like it was just passing through. This route is very safe; plenty of people travel it.”
“Mutant” was a blanket term for all altered biological entities.
Xiang Nanli stared at the image on the wall, finding it inexplicably familiar—especially those pitch-black eyes.
[Xiao Qing, do you think it looks like it?] Xiang Nanli looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly.
[Cannot confirm with absolute certainty. However, they share an identity. The structural similarity is 27.8%. If a genetic sample can be extracted, a definitive judgment can be made.]
[Visual similarity is only one criteria; I tend to trust my intuition more. It has to be the exact same mutant. It really managed to escape. What did that group of researchers passing by yesterday call it again? Ezekiel?]
[Correct.]
[Was it purely passing by, or is it coming for us? Besides, it clearly has the capability to avoid detection entirely, so why did it leave a visual trace behind?]
The corners of Dongfang Qingdi’s lips tightened.
[It is likely in a state of structural evolution after consuming biological energy. Its genetic state remains highly unstable, causing its sensory-shielding traits to temporarily malfunction.]
Well, Xiang Nanli had assumed this Lurker would die off very quickly. After all, back in the shady underground facility, it had been so profoundly weak that even Xiang Nanli could whack it a couple of times with a metal rod.
So those giant mutants… Ezekiel devoured his own companions to achieve this evolution. Dongfang Qingdi quickly deduced the conclusion closest to the truth.
Xiang Nanli carefully processed the explanation and sighed: [You make me feel entirely illiterate. Xiao Qing, what exactly is biological energy?]
Dongfang Qingdi fell into thought, sorting through countless gigabytes of classified data inside his mind.
[Perhaps, given your cognitive level and current knowledge reserve, the easiest way to understand it would be... a magical beast core?]
Biological energy was something Dongfang Qingdi required as well. Last time, he had managed to pry a tiny shard out of the mechanical Crawler. After converting it into power, the remaining battery life of this body had bumped up to 5%. As long as he refrained from deploying his weapon modules, a 5% charge was sufficient to sustain him for thirty years. He could easily walk all the way to the surface regional office of the Omnic Legion.
As for why he hadn’t abandoned Xiang Nanli yet—how could it possibly be out of reluctance to leave! It was entirely because the data migration hadn’t concluded. The “soul” that constituted his AI entity remained trapped inside the chip nestled within Xiang Nanli’s body. He was simply forced to stay by Xiang Nanli’s side out of sheer necessity.
Xiang Nanli: “…”
Clang! A loud crash echoed from the back. It turned out Andrew had accidentally rolled right off his cot.
The fighter sitting beside him hurried to pull him up, asking out of concern, “Doctor, are you alright?”
Andrew stared at the projected image, stumbling as he stood up to climb back onto the cot. “I’m fine. Fine… I’m perfectly fine. Never better, my dear.”
He repeated the words mechanically, completely oblivious to the fact that the internal springs in his neck had come loose. A screw rolled across the floor, and Andrew’s square metal head shot upward, launching into the air as several springs burst violently from his neck joint.
Ryan spoke in absolute shock, “Great, his brain is broken from the fall. Technician Xiang, could you take a look?”
Xiang Nanli rolled up his sleeves, casually retrieving a screwdriver from his trousers pocket. “Where on earth do you spend all your money? This model is so ancient; if I hadn’t read extensively, I wouldn’t even recognize it. Anyone else would just tell you to buy a new one.”
Exposed to the open air were not only loose wires but also highly intricate chips and circuit boards.
Whoever had performed the cybernetic modification on Andrew back then had delivered a very crude piece of work, yet it operated in a bizarre state of functional balance, maintaining the body’s delicate equilibrium.
The craftsmanship is actually excellent. Quite a challenge.
A few minutes later, Andrew’s head was firmly reattached to his neck. Xiang Nanli had not only repaired his head but had also modified several pieces of hardware, completing an on-the-fly upgrade and reinforcement.
True masters leave no grand traces. Perhaps because he looked entirely too casual while working, the onlookers assumed the task was incredibly simple.
Andrew only held a junior medical license, but over six hundred years ago, he had graduated from the finest university in the Human Alliance, studying the most cutting-edge technologies. He had commanded the highest salaries and entered the most prestigious enterprises. His outdated mechanical body had also been manufactured by Donghuang Heavy Industry.
Andrew understood the sheer difficulty of this repair. That was precisely why he had never permitted anyone else to alter it. His level of mechanization was so high that a single misstep would result in brain death. This wasn’t a job an ordinary mechanic from Gusu City could pull off. Even if sent to Luoyang City, one would have to track down an old professor to get it fixed.
Dongfang Qingdi swept a glance over the internal circuitry and components.
Tsk… Donghuang Heavy Industry?
Andrew stared at Xiang Nanli’s face, which sat a mere inches away, seemingly lost in a daze. “Thank you. Xiang Nanli?”
Xiang Nanli looked up. “Hmm?” It wasn’t like today was the first time they had exchanged names. Suddenly experiencing a flash of doubt regarding his own craftsmanship, he asked, “Is it still not fixed properly?”
Andrew rapidly snapped back to normal, showing no outward signs of anomaly. “Of course it is fixed, my dear. It is just that we were sitting so close, and your exceptional beauty left my mind completely reeling.”
Only he understood the terrifying waves crashing inside his mind.
Back when Donghuang Heavy Industry’s plan to construct a body for the Machine Overlord failed, they shifted their focus toward biomechanical research.
Well… naturally, that project had failed as well. Powerful mutants were indeed created, but they shared absolutely zero connection with true biomechanics. Things like that mechanical Crawler were merely crude cybernetic modifications forced upon powerful mutant entities, retrofitting them with mechanical devices… In Andrew’s eyes, it amounted to nothing more than violent, perfunctory performance art.
The mechanical Crawler and “Dongfang Qingdi” were both failed products. They had even been dumped into the exact same scrap facility!
According to “that person’s” original design methodology, specialized mutants were supposed to enter a subsequent phase after unlocking their Grade 2 genetic locks… a phase he termed “Humanization.”
To transform ordinary humans into monsters, and then force those monsters back into human form. What a bizarre train of thought.
Andrew had seen the schematics, as well as the simulated “Mutant Evolutionary Stage Progression Chart.” The chart depicting Stage 2 of the Lurker’s Humanization phase looked identical to the photograph that had just flashed across the screen.
“That person’s” vision had never realized fruition because the situation had violently spun out of control during Stage 1.
The ultimate fate of their experimental group was clear—Andrew escaped by the skin of his teeth, while some of his colleagues fled to the surface to throw their lot in with the Inquisition. As for “that person,” who adamantly maintained he had done nothing wrong and was merely chasing a salvation protocol for humanity, he remained locked away in a prison cell to this day. He couldn’t even remember his own name anymore, living like a braindead automaton.
Fortunately, Andrew still remembered. His name was Mobei.
The brief interlude involving Andrew failed to draw the attention of the others.
During the latter half of the night.
Andrew curled into the corner of his cot, pulling his knees tightly against his chest, muttering to himself in the quiet of his mind: The failed projects from all those centuries ago… have actually succeeded six hundred years later?
So it turns out Donghuang Heavy Industry didn’t lack resources, knowledge, or talent—we simply lacked time?! If you leave failed products undisturbed for six hundred years, they will literally conclude the remaining experiments on their own?!
Granted, Andrew couldn’t confirm with absolute certainty that Donghuang was indeed the “Dongfang Qingdi” from back then. But the timing, the location of appearance—wasn’t it all far too coincidental? Andrew had even managed to pry the information out of Ryan that “Donghuang” was merely a stage name for Dongfang Qingdi!
How dared he be so brazen? He was simply banking on the fact that everyone from Donghuang Heavy Industry was dead, and that his entity had left no trace within the Alliance’s databases.
Why? Why is this happening?
Andrew suddenly arrived at a possibility, one that left his entire frame trembling while simultaneously filling him with a bizarre sense of absolute ecstasy. His mechanical core throbbed so violently that his CPU bordered on overheating.
Andrew turned his head, his gaze locking onto the seat up front: “Xiang Nanli, you are Xiang Nanli.”
If Andrew still possessed a normal, biological body, his gaze right now would have burned with a fervor that others would find terrifying to behold.
Because it was Xiang Nanli, no miracle birthed from his hands could ever be considered surprising.
…
Xiang Nanli curled into his chair, fast asleep.
Dongfang Qingdi stepped forward to help adjust the seat cushion, shifting it from a seated position into a flat recline. He then retrieved a blanket from the luggage case, draping it carefully over him.
Fragile humans. If they don’t stay warm while sleeping at night, they will literally catch a cold.
How could you possibly survive without me?
Dongfang Qingdi’s peripheral vision swept toward the back row, a microscopic glint of vigilance flitting through his eyes. That runaway survivor had likely deduced something.
But why was he staring at Xiang Nanli? Come to think of it, Andrew had already complimented Xiang Nanli’s appearance several times.
Whatever, it didn’t matter. Given Andrew’s extreme level of mechanization, it should be incredibly easy to wipe his memory clean. Once this selection tournament concluded, he would simply format Andrew’s drive.
