Chapter 21: We Will Meet Again.
That final mention of “atonement” was, in fact, what Xiang Nanli truly felt.
He believed that he hadn’t raised Alpha well, and that the Omnic Crisis was partly his responsibility. Granted, not too much of it. After all, those events had unfolded long after his death.
Logically, since Xiang Nanli’s emotions came straight from the heart, this moment should have been somewhat touching. However, the completely tone-deaf System chose this exact moment to chime in:
[Are you a clone?]
Xiang Nanli responded: [Given our relationship, you’re telling me you don’t even know if I’m a clone? Whatever happened to the basic trust between a human and an AI?]
Luo Xiu’s expression remained grim as he scrutinized Xiang Nanli’s face. The latter met his gaze, his emerald-green eyes full of tolerance and serenity.
Relaxing his tensed nerves just a fraction, Luo Xiu still didn’t lower his weapon. “You look very different from the face on the official data released about Xiang Nanli.”
Going by the photo of “Xiang Nanli” in those records, a person would have to undergo multiple bone-shaving plastic surgeries just to look like the man standing before him now.
Xiang Nanli offered a helpless smile. “I don’t know why they thought that was Xiang Nanli, but my actual appearance should be very close to this.”
Luo Xiu didn’t struggle with the thought for long. He lowered his gun and said coldly, “Fine. On this point, I’d rather believe you.”
Xiang Nanli: “…”
It was glaringly obvious. The photo of that kappa-like leader had inflicted severe emotional trauma on Luo Xiu; the disillusionment was nothing short of a collapsed faith.
The reality was simple: with genetic modification and advanced plastic surgery, the more economically prosperous a region was, the better-looking its inhabitants were. Luo Xiu came from a privileged background and lived in the affluent district of Luoyang City—he had never grown up around unattractive people. For the first fifteen years of his life, he had no conceptual grasp of what it meant to look “deformed or wretched,” until he saw the photo published by the archaeological team.
That had also been the first time in Luo Xiu’s life that he got drunk. He inadvertently drank until his stomach perforated and had to be admitted to pediatrics.
Behind Luo Xiu’s back, Xin Zhui let out a very soft groan. Luo Xiu injected him with a shot of specialized medicine, sparing Xin Zhui from having to consume his own cells to repair his body.
Xin Zhui’s skin hadn’t grown back yet, but his body temperature was rising abnormally. Though still comatose, his breathing was incredibly heavy.
Luo Xiu crouched down, pondered for a moment, bit his lip, and administered another tube of fluid. The previous vial had been blue; this one was light red.
The moment the drug was injected, the veins across Xin Zhui’s body bulged, and the blood flowing within them turned a distinct dark purple. His heartbeat grew violently intense, thumping like a war drum.
I’ve heard that the weakness of genetically modified humans is their head. Xiang Nanli thought to himself, rather inappropriately.
“How do you need me to assist you?” Luo Xiu’s tone carried a trace of anxiety he couldn’t quite hide.
Xin Zhui’s condition was truly grim. Following their earlier encounter with the Apocalypse Knights, Luo Xiu had sent a distress signal back home, but he had no idea when the rescue team would arrive. Even if they did make it, he couldn’t guarantee they would successfully find the entrance to the underground factory.
If the Mechanical Crawler caught up to them…
The education Luo Xiu had received dictated that he should abandon dead weight to buy himself time; his life was worth more than others. In this era, everything carried a price tag.
Including human life. Immortality Tech possessed a technology that hadn’t been promoted to the public called “Life Replication.” By combining biological cloning with a memory chip, the resulting artificial human would be identical to the original, right down to their way of thinking. They wouldn’t even realize they were artificial.
It was an incredibly dangerous technology. As long as you had the money and the memory chip, you could use a clone to replace anyone. Anyone at all.
So how much was Xin Zhui actually worth? Luo Xiu couldn’t quantify it, but he was willing to trade all the assets under his name for him. They were companions who had grown up together. He could not accept Xin Zhui’s death, even if his wealth could clone countless iterations of him.
“You alone might not be enough. It would be better if Bodhi and the others were here, but we’re out of time.” Xiang Nanli gestured in midair. “The console to unseal the Oriental Qingdi is also in the central hall. I need someone to help draw the Mechanical Crawler’s attention. I will hand the control permissions of those service androids over to you. Use your built-in AI to manipulate them and make them run toward the direction where the Apocalypse Knights left.”
Indeed, Xiang Nanli was quite despicably deflecting the trouble onto someone else.
“Once it squeezes into the other door, I’ll close the entrance to buy us time.”
The eight doors leading to the hall were practically eight massive walls, clearly designed to facilitate the entry and exit of the Mechanical Crawler. While the iron doors would only stall it for a moment and couldn’t withstand a full-on ballistic assault from the creature, stalling it for a moment was enough.
The brothers from the Inquisition would just have to suffer a bit!
The reason he chose Luo Xiu over the others was that Luo Xiu possessed the highest-spec built-in AI, pre-installed with numerous offline software modules. It could handle multi-threaded operations without risking a fried chip. Alpha, on the other hand, was working with a centuries-old chip—his hardware configuration looked rather obsolete.
Luo Xiu pondered briefly, then nodded. “Alright.”
With tacit understanding, neither of them brought up who would claim the “Oriental Qingdi” once it was unsealed and the Mechanical Crawler was dealt with, preventing their fragile alliance from fracturing prematurely.
A data interface visible only to Luo Xiu popped up before his eyes. It utilized optical stealth technology, appearing as a blurry halo of light to anyone else.
[? requests a data link with you].
The question mark in the box indicated that his smart AI couldn’t identify the applicant’s identity. This also meant one thing: the AI Xiang Nanli was using did not exist within the Human Coalition’s database.
Given his background as a researcher for Donghuang Heavy Industries, this wasn’t surprising. After all, a few centuries was a very long time.
Two new modules appeared in Luo Xiu’s installed applications: one was a temporary control permission for the androids, and the other was a floor plan of the factory. He tapped in and took a look. There were currently 82 humanoid androids left that still had power and operational capacity.
“Find a safe spot,” Xiang Nanli instructed. “When I signal you, take control of the androids and move.”
Luo Xiu nodded. “Got it.”
“See you in a bit, then.” Xiang Nanli waved his hand and made his way back toward the entrance. He needed to return to the scene and wait for his opening.
Watching his retreating back, Luo Xiu couldn’t help but call out, “Xiang Nanli.”
It was the first time he had spoken Xiang Nanli’s name aloud.
Xiang Nanli paused in his tracks, turned his head, and asked with a smile, “Uh-huh?”
Luo Xiu stared into his emerald eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Stay safe.”
Xiang Nanli cautiously crept toward the vicinity of the grand doors.
Hiding behind one of them, the Mechanical Crawler’s roars sounded as though they were right next to his ears, terrifyingly loud. The vibrations traveling through the ground were exceptionally violent here.
Xiang Nanli asked: [Alpha, are we really safe?]
Yet, the emotion in his tone wasn’t nervousness, but rather… excitement?
That was, after all, the body Alpha had constructed for himself. Surely it had to feel better to touch than an ordinary android, right? If he died halfway through, could it be considered dying on the path of seeking enlightenment?
The Crawler had already wrenched the majority of its body free; only the very tip of its tail remained pinned to the ground. It resembled a mutated, humanoid gecko, but its tail couldn’t simply grow back like a real gecko’s.
“Please trust me.” Alpha’s cold detachment felt entirely reliable.
Xiang Nanli replied with a beaming smile, “Of course I trust you. You’re my Alpha, after all.”
Alpha tried his best to analyze the statement. Alpha failed to compute; he felt his CPU getting a little hot. Left with no choice, Alpha simply replied: “It is good that you understand.”
A typical Crawler possessed only two forelimbs, but this particular Mechanical Crawler had four. The two near its abdomen were mechanical arms retrofitted at a later date, equipped with telescopic pipes that could extend remarkably far.
Following a period of labor-like birth pangs, it finally achieved its long-awaited freedom. The Crawler’s long tail split vertically down the middle, making it look as though it were wearing a tuxedo.
Xiang Nanli murmured, “Move.”
In the next second, the androids situated around the perimeter of the hall stood up.
Nearly all eighty-odd androids went into action simultaneously. A portion of the military-grade androids opened fire on the Crawler to launch an offensive, while another group dashed toward the large doors.
The weapons Donghuang Heavy Industries had equipped these androids with were of decent quality; a few metallic scales were blown off the Crawler, leaving scorched black marks across its coarse hide.
With a single heavy stomp, an android was instantly crushed out of shape, metallic components rolling out from its chassis. For those positioned further away, the Crawler unleashed its heavy thermal weaponry without a shred of hesitation to conduct long-range strikes.
The combination of biological modification and mechanical enhancement was far greater than a simple one-plus-one equation. The destructive power it unleashed vastly eclipsed that of its mediocre peers. The androids suffered catastrophic casualties; out of the 82 units, only two managed to escape successfully. They similarly split into two directions, sprinting down different corridors.
The vengeful Crawler evidently had no intention of letting even these two androids slide. Dragging its heavy bulk, it crawled toward the doors.
Though the Mechanical Crawler’s torso appeared cumbersome, its slender limbs were extraordinarily powerful, allowing it to move with blistering speed. The ground shook violently as the artillery carts were swept aside by its tail, tumbling every which way.
Xiang Nanli knew full well that even with the Apocalypse Knights thrown into the mix, it wouldn’t buy them very much time. To them, the Mechanical Crawler was practically an invader from another dimension.
Xiang Nanli rarely disliked metallic fabrications, but he truly couldn’t bring himself to love this bizarre monstrosity. Without waiting for the Crawler to completely clear the area, he darted out from behind the door, using the surrounding debris as cover to draw closer to his objective.
His heart couldn’t help but race. If the Crawler noticed him right now and decided to switch targets, he would be a dead man.
The ground was littered with the severed limbs of androids; exposed wires resembled blood vessels, throwing off occasional sparks. Xiang Nanli figured that the Crawler wasn’t necessarily unable to differentiate between humans and androids—it was just that humans with high degrees of cybernetic enhancement had likely tortured it before, so it chose to treat everyone with equal hostility.
The Mechanical Crawler squeezed through the doorway, its massive frame completely packing the corridor to the brim. As it left the central hall, its roars finally muffled significantly.
Only then did the knot in Xiang Nanli’s chest loosen. Born of flesh and blood, he was naturally susceptible to fear; he just knew that fearing it wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Griping the cipher key in his hand, the arrow displayed on his electronic lenses vanished right at the edge of a fissure in the floor. The Mechanical Crawler had breached the floorboards from right here; its massive body had shattered the ground, causing the fractured surfaces to jut upward at a steep angle.
Climbing up the edge, Xiang Nanli peered down into the pitch-black abyss below. The stench of blood was overwhelming down here, accompanied by numerous shredded pieces of flesh.
Alpha: “We have arrived. It is the object right before you.”
Indeed, while the underground pit was shrouded in darkness, a solitary object glowed with light. It was the metallic pillar that had previously pinned the Crawler’s tail.
Upon closer inspection, one could see that the surface of this pillar was carved with numerous totems representing primitive mythological worship. Judging by the artistic style, it likely came from the same group of artisans who had sculpted the divine Buddhist statues at the entrance.
Though it looked like a pillar, it was far more likely a sealed containment capsule. Like a gift waiting to be unwrapped, it had slept silently for centuries.
The subterranean space was a bottomless pit, completely devoid of any ladders. Heaven knew what kind of mindset those researchers possessed back then to lock the Mechanical Crawler and the body codenamed “Oriental Qingdi” together.
Xiang Nanli gauged the height and distance, steeled his resolve, and leaped down.
He landed hard onto a platform. Because the top surface was smooth, he was forced to slide a considerable distance, stopping precariously right at the very edge of the cylindrical structure. Thank goodness he hadn’t plunged straight down, otherwise his life would have faced a premature reset.
Climbing trees might just be the most primitive instinct of Homo sapiens.
Xiang Nanli climbed down along the totems on the pillar, occasionally planting a foot squarely against the head of an unknown mechanical deity. He climbed past its face, neck, chest, waist, and legs, making his way all the way down.
“If Donghuang Heavy Industries worshiped intelligent machinery, then they most likely sculpted Alpha, Beta, and Gamma—the three leaders of the machine legions,” Xiang Nanli mused thoughtfully. “Does that mean I just stepped on Alpha’s head?”
Alpha didn’t particularly want to answer that.
Finally, Xiang Nanli slid to the bottom.
Previously, he had wondered why the cipher key looked like a completely unremarkable, circular piece of metal. Now, he understood why. Right at the base of the pillar, at roughly human height, a creature resembling a cross between a snake and a dragon was missing a single round eye.
The ground shuddered once more—BOOM! That was the sound of the Mechanical Crawler smashing against the doors. It seemed to have realized something, its movements turning frantic. The metal doors embedded within the subterranean mountain face were teetering on the verge of collapse.
Xiang Nanli hesitated no longer, instantly jamming the cipher key into its original slot.
At that moment, the totem was finally complete. Or rather, the circuitry could finally flow smoothly.
Brilliant azure light surged upward from the base of the pillar like a flowing river. As the light washed over the faces of those mechanical gods, a brilliant aura ignited within the depths of the totems’ eyes. The sound of machinery firing up echoed through the cavern, utterly drowning out the distant roars of the Crawler.
With a massive crash, the grand doors collapsed heavily to the floor.
The Crawler charged toward Xiang Nanli’s position at maximum speed, fresh, uncleaned corpses still wedged between its teeth. Its dark, glass-bead-like eyes looked cold and horrifying. Its thunderous footsteps drew closer by the second, and the vibrations around him grew increasingly violent. With a frame like the Crawler’s, it was impossible to move without causing a massive disturbance.
Meanwhile, the metallic pillar of light was only halfway charged.
Xiang Nanli backed away continuously, tucking himself into the corner of the perimeter. Yet the moment he looked up, his breath still hitched in his throat.
The Crawler’s colossal head materialized at the edge of the pit. Its eyes shifted from black to crimson, all eighteen of its eyes locking onto Xiang Nanli’s position, clearly gathering energy.
Holy crap, am I really going to bite the dust here?!
Xiang Nanli’s hands and feet went icy cold. Because the light pouring down from above was far too intense, he was forced into a state of temporary blindness. Tears welled up in his eyes as a physiological response. Even before the energy beams could fire, he could already feel a stinging, scorching heat against his skin.
There was nowhere to run. His physical body simply could not withstand such high-intensity radiation.
Xiang Nanli felt as though a million thoughts flashed through his mind, but in reality, only a single thought remained.
What a shame.
Despite gaining a second chance at life, he had arrived in a distant future that wasn’t particularly beautiful. Yet he had actually, truly, still… failed to see Alpha even once.
Blinding light completely submerged Xiang Nanli.
He figured he would instantly vaporize, dying a completely painless death without even the room to struggle. Perhaps that wasn’t a bad way to go. It was all the System’s fault for getting him killed anyway—he was never going to trust that dog-system’s guarantees ever again.
However, the anticipated energy beam never hit him.
Or rather, someone had intercepted it.
Xiang Nanli found himself enveloped in a cold embrace.
He was still blind, and his hearing was somewhat impaired. Instinctively, Xiang Nanli reached out to grope around what lay ahead of him. The texture was metallic, but the form closely resembled a human. What he was touching seemed to be a pair of arms.
[…Alpha?] Xiang Nanli called out the System’s name within his mind.
The System didn’t respond. Instead, a human voice drifted down from right above his head.
“I am here.”
