Ironization Disease

"New here, little bro?" "Never seen your model before. You aren't human, are you?" "My lower back's killing me, come take a look for me." "Wait, don't—don't touch that! Aaaagh! Huh? Holy shit? Cured in one touch, brother! Thanks!" "I'm all fixed up!" Through personal visits and the enthusiastic introductions of various mechanical big brothers, Ji Jue had finally gotten a clear picture of the camp's situation. It truly was just an ordinary gathering place for survivors. Every single person here was a native "resident" of the Border Realm—or rather, a "creation." Through various glitches and errors, they had more or less realized the abnormalities in their lives and the problems with themselves. Driven by fear of the world above, they had fled down here to huddle together for warmth. The Prophet rarely showed herself, but the atmosphere within the settlement was remarkably friendly and harmonious, free of the bullying and exploitation so common in apocalyptic fiction. Occasionally, newcomers would flee here from other regions dragging their families along, and they were always quickly accommodated. Food came from two ancient starch converters and the automated production equipment in the warehouse, while drinking water was drawn from a guarded pump in the center of the camp. Some residents voluntarily maintained order, while others formed regular expeditions to explore the Border Realm, though their efforts rarely yielded much of anything. If this were a web novel, the protagonist would have figured out the color of the Prophet's underwear within six hours. Ji Jue, on the other hand, had spent half the day doing nothing but good deeds. Fixing air conditioners, repairing refrigerators, patching up vehicle chassis, welding sheet metal... He was having so much fun he could hardly stop. In his notebook, Xiao An diligently recorded stroke by stroke: *Day three of entering the Border Realm. Brother Ji Jue has returned to his old trade and seems very happy.* "Mama! Mama!" A fragmented "child" sitting on a small handcart pushed its wheels back and forth in excitement, grabbing an old man and shouting enthusiastically, "The big brother from outside fixed my wheels! Look, look!" "That's wonderful." The elderly man wriggled his snake-like lower body, stroking the child's hair with what seemed to be a gentle smile. "Just don't go running around. Everyone has to search for you every time you wander off." "Mm-hmm!" the child laughed cheerfully. "I'm a good boy!" With that, he pushed his cart and dashed off in a flash to show off his brand-new cart to his other mothers. Watching the scene from afar, Ji Jue held a wrench in hand, wholly focused on repairing the water purifier in front of him. "The filter core is clogged solid and stinks. Do you have any charcoal? Finding some wood and burning it works too. Just open this up, pack it full, and put it back in." Ji Jue rubbed his aching lower back, stretching his body before concluding, "The water pump is fine. Just some aging wiring that needs replacing. You can handle that sort of thing yourselves; you shouldn't need me for it." "Thanks." The middle-aged man who had followed him the entire time grunted for a long moment before squeezing out a muddled reply from his throat. Even if he had suspected Ji Jue of having ulterior motives at first, seeing how Ji Jue had repaired almost every broken tool in the camp in a mere half day made it impossible to maintain his vigilant, guarded demeanor. After a moment's hesitation, he went back and fetched a bottle. Only after Ji Jue had dismantled two old vehicles and welded them into a single functional one did the man walk over holding a cup. "Want some?" A clear liquid poured into the paper cup, carrying a faint, pungent odor. "What's this...?" Ji Jue sniffed carefully, unable to identify it. "Liquor." The middle-aged man offered a bitter smile. "Let me introduce myself. Just call me 97. Before coming here, I was... manufactured as a distillery worker. I gathered some materials and brewed it myself. "Made from starch. Doesn't taste great, but it's the best we can do under the circumstances. Don't look down on it." "To be honest, I'm not sure my stomach can digest the local ingredients," Ji Jue said with a self-deprecating laugh. He took a tiny sip before setting it down. A sip of this size shouldn't get him drunk. Instead, 97 froze in disbelief, not expecting him to drink it so readily. "Aren't you... afraid I poisoned it?" Ji Jue simply smiled and replied candidly, "If it's poisoned, I'll pay you back." With the Mouth of the Ancient hanging around his neck, he truly wasn't worried. Setting aside whether any poison could slip past Brother Ball's scans, Xiao An was standing right beside him; with a twitch of his nose, the boy could smell whatever had been mixed in. Besides, if something truly went wrong, it would take Ji Jue nothing more than a snap of his fingers to bring the entire camp crashing down. "..." 97 remained silent. After downing a full cup himself, he let out a sigh. "It seems the Prophet was right. You really are different from the outlanders in the rumors." "Oh? What's wrong with outlanders?" "They say outlanders have come several times before, but every time, all they did was run around destroying things and slaughtering 'people' who didn't even know what they were. "They'd do anything for treasure. But if there were treasure, wouldn't we know about it? There's nothing here but hell. "Yet they seemed to love this hell even more than we did." "..." Ji Jue sighed. "That's just how 'players' are." Forget about Quicksilver's legacy and treasures—even if there were only a few ordinary loot drops, players would still treat the entire Border Realm like a dungeon and grind it to dust. Except the local faction here wasn't very friendly, and the waters were far too deep. If the destruction went too far, Quicksilver's workshop might well initiate a purge and mow down every single outlander. "Players?" The middle-aged man didn't understand the word, his expression gloomier than ever. "The Prophet said they're all demons. Demons, just like Quicksilver." Ji Jue fell silent. He could only marvel at the irony. As their creator, she ought to have been revered and worshiped by her creations like a god, just as the furnace had remained loyal to Quicksilver to the very end. Yet now, the creations of the Border Realm regarded her as a terrifying demon. What was this? A rogue intelligence from sci-fi? An AI rebellion? Yet no matter how out of control or rebellious they became, they had no way of halting the workshop's operation. They could only flee and endure passively. "Do you all trust the Prophet that much?" Ji Jue asked out of curiosity. "Of course. If not for the Prophet, I probably would have been recycled and recast by the cleaning tools long ago. Without her, this camp wouldn't exist either." 97 answered bluntly, "I know what you want to ask. The Prophet is the Prophet; she knows everything—at least, within this 'Border Realm.' Those were her exact words to me. "She was the earliest among us to awaken, and she understands all of this deeper than anyone. "I don't know what you outlanders are thinking, but there's no need to be so guarded. We're just a bunch of pitiful wretches huddling together for warmth. Even when it comes to repaying you, this is all we can offer." He raised his cup with a self-deprecating smile. "If you want to do something, talk to the Prophet. There isn't much time left before the reset." "Reset?" Intrigued, Ji Jue was about to press further. Suddenly, a scream rang out—so familiar, sharp yet garbled, like the anguished wails, shouts, and roars of countless people crammed into a single body. Weeping and howling erupted. "Mama! Mama!" A handcart flew into the air and crashed to the ground, shattering into splinters. The fragmented child was seized by a sharp tentacle, hoisted aloft, and whipped wildly through the air as pieces broke off and rained down. 97's face changed drastically. Tossing aside his cup, he dashed forward at full tilt. "Ironization!" Amidst the scattering crowd, someone shouted in terror, "It's the ironization disease! 32 is having an attack again!" At the center of the chaos, a bloated, obese man was weeping and wailing from one half of his face, while the other half had already mutated into insectoid features. Two tentacles sprouted from a tear in his chest, flailing wildly and tearing through everything around them. "Lies! You're all lying to me! It's all fake—!" The face twitched violently as he screamed in frenzy, "I have a child! I have a child, my boy is already seven years old, he's still waiting for me at home, he... he... he..." The twisted face spasmed, drowning in despair, and wailed in futility: "He's dead." *Thump! Thump! Thump!* Amidst dull thuds, a net woven from iron wire enveloped the twisted, mutating figure. Then, a massive firearm like the ones Ji Jue had seen earlier was brought out. Leveled at the rapidly swelling silhouette struggling within the net, the trigger was pulled. A harpoon-like spear shot forth, jet-propelled. Its lethality was nowhere near that of Ji Jue's rifle, but they wielded it with practiced familiarity. With a heavy crunch, it pinned him to the ground. "Kill him, quick! He's lost control!" someone shouted from the terrified crowd. "He couldn't hold it back yesterday, insisting on going outside to look for his wife and child! The suppressant isn't working anymore!" 97 froze, hesitating in an agonizing struggle. The trembling muzzle slowly rose. Then, a hand pushed it down. "...Seriously, why do I even bother hoping my damn luck will hold?" Ji Jue sighed, rolled up his sleeves, and strode forward. "Let me!" *Boom!* A writhing tentacle lashed down toward his head, but mid-strike, a flash of silver cleaved it in two. It was Xiao An. Inside the net, the berserk figure had already swollen to two or three times its original size, more and more mutant features sprouting across his body. Even his original face had nearly vanished. Only a single eye that could still vaguely be recognized as human wept hollow tears. Ji Jue hesitated for a heartbeat. His raised hand hovered in the air before pressing down without hesitation. "If I have to eat shit, then so be it." He forced the words through gritted teeth. "Brother Furnace, I'm paying you some interest!" *Snap!* In an instant, Deus Ex Machina activated! Pain, despair, howling, wailing, madness, fondness, hatred, tenderness, joy, misery... all the emotions of the mortal world surged forward like a deluge, hitting him head-on. They swallowed him whole. Ji Jue's face flushed crimson in an instant. Feeling the violently turbulent and chaotic spiritus corroding his soul, he didn't even have time to worry—he had Brother Watch anyway, so at worst he could just siphon it out later. Right now... He issued his command once more: —*Halt*! In that split second, Ji Jue's vision went dark again, but an edict akin to a divine decree had already been transmitted through his ability. An invisible wave rippled out from him like the striking of a colossal bell. The resounding reverberation spread outward from his hand, enveloping the entire camp. Bringing everything to an abrupt, dead stop!