You Won't Be Using It Anyway

The infirmary. Her eyes framed by heavy dark circles, Jiang Xuezhou glared furiously, her face flushed crimson as she locked her gaze onto a certain barking idiot. To build this fellow a superior body, she had blown through a full third of her accumulated G-points! Yet the very first thing he did upon waking up was not throw his arms around her legs in weeping gratitude, begging to spend the rest of his life repaying Miss Jiang Xuezhou's benevolence. Instead, he had blurted out an utterly inexplicable "Gaia!" She had no idea what he was shouting about, but one look at his expression was enough to tell that he was displeased with her masterpiece. At the thought, her fists clenched even tighter, and veins nearly throbbed on her forehead. Meanwhile, standing beside the cryogenic hibernation pod, Ye Shi remained blissfully unaware of Jiang Xuezhou's inner turmoil. He was staring at his reflection in the mirror, completely torn between tears and laughter. To cure his "paraplegia," a certain D-rank researcher from the Academy had first set out to replace his spine. But she soon realized that swapping out the spine alone was useless—virtually all his internal organs were failing. So she replaced his heart, kidneys, and digestive tract with bionic versions as well. Technically, by that point he was already well enough to leave the ICU. But that perfectionist D-rank researcher was still unsatisfied with her creation. Sure, he could move, but his bodily coordination left much to be desired. Consequently, to ensure his everyday life wouldn't be hindered, she made another minor adjustment: implanting a bionic chip into his cerebellum with a built-in motor-enhancement plugin. With a bionic chip installed, letting that excess computing power go to waste without mounting some weapons felt downright criminal. Thus struck by another flash of inspiration, she loaded a weapon-control plugin onto the bionic chip, then gritted her teeth and splurged her G-points to order a high-power capacitor along with hand-mounted high-voltage discharge generators. That was top-tier hardware. She hadn't even been willing to install that on Xiao Wang. Paired with the processing power of the bionic chip, not only could he manipulate unpredictable currents with his bare hands and fire arcs at close range powerful enough to pierce the air, but he could also use his arms as railguns to launch electromagnetic projectiles rivaling standard rifle rounds! A device like that naturally consumed far more energy than ordinary bioelectricity could supply. So she embedded a solid-state hydrogen battery into his waist that could be slowly replenished via bioelectricity or refueled through an external intake valve. With that, even completely bare-handed without any weapons, he possessed at least half the combat capability of Xiao Wang. The sole remaining flaw was his defense. After all, despite so many modifications, up to that point his body could still technically fall into the category of human. Yet could a certain genius D-rank researcher tolerate a flaw in her masterpiece? The answer was an obvious no. Hardly hesitating at all, Jiang Xuezhou—her horizons now thoroughly broadened—splurged once more without a second thought. She replaced virtually his entire skeleton with higher-grade titanium alloy, fitted his joints with electric motors, and substituted the flesh around several vital organs with kinetic-absorbing polymers. This way, even if he went completely reckless like he had the other night, there was no need to worry about being rendered a quadriplegic ever again. Oh, and his original skin had felt too rough, so she went ahead and replaced that with bionic skin as well. Since being a bit taller gave a greater sense of security, she also took the liberty of adding three centimeters to his height, rounding him out to a neat one hundred and seventy-eight. And as one replacement led to another... Things had ended up looking like this. Ye Shi felt as if he had been turned entirely into an android—and one customized specifically to a certain NPC's personal tastes, at that. Aside from his "boyishly handsome" face still belonging to him, virtually none of his original parts remained. In truth, that alone wouldn't have been a problem. It was just a game character; it wasn't his body in reality. Trying out a new skin wasn't the end of the world. What truly broke him was the horrifying discovery he made the moment he opened his eyes: his little brother was gone! His entire digestive and excretory systems had been integrated into a single aperture in the back, separated into two compartments for dry and liquid waste. Good grief. He was just like Scavenger now! "My condolences, bro." "Honestly, I don't see the big deal. Not like you were using it anyway." "+1." "Hahahahaha!" Standing to the side, Lao Bai, Fang Chang, Kuang Feng, and the rest of the gang were doing their best to suppress their laughter, while Jiu Jiu had already shamelessly crouched in the corner, clutching her stomach in stitches. Looking at Jiang Xuezhou, whose face was flushed as red as a baboon's rear, Ye Shi remembered that she had spent the past few days constantly repairing his body. In the end, he didn't have the heart to nitpick, managing only a grimace as he spoke. "...Thank you!" Jiang Xuezhou clicked her tongue, her expression cool. "If it's so forced, you don't need to bother." Caught between tears and laughter, Ye Shi replied, "No... I'm not forcing it at all! I'm genuinely grateful, really! It's just... why... why is *that* missing?" "What?" Jiang Xuezhou looked at him, crossing her arms in dissatisfaction. "What do you mean 'that'? I installed everything that could possibly be installed. What else could you be unhappy about?" Ye Shi looked back at her with a guilty conscience. "No, no, no... there should be one more thing. You probably just forgot. You know, that... that thing... Aaargh! Dammit all!" He was so accustomed to spouting nonsense that he couldn't think of a single polite way to phrase it. After struggling for half a beat without uttering the words, he buried his face in his hands in agony. Jiang Xuezhou stared at him in complete bewilderment, her brows furrowing repeatedly, her face a portrait of confusion. What kind of nonsense was this guy babbling? If you're unhappy about something, say it out loud! "At any rate... whether you're satisfied or not, I put in everything that could be fitted. After all, you did what you did to save me. If you had died just like that, your parents and sister would have been heartbroken, wouldn't they?" Glancing at Jiu Jiu—who was crouched facing the corner, shoulders trembling as she constantly dabbed at her eyes—Jiang Xuezhou's lips curved into a contented smile. Turning those tears of sorrow into tears of joy... It seemed her hard work hadn't been in vain. She had barely slept a wink over the past few days, her dark circles so thick they looked painted on with soot. She would definitely need to catch up on some proper sleep in a bit. "What are you talking about? I did that mainly to—mmph!" Ye Shi started to protest that he had acted primarily to protect the aircraft, but before he could finish, a large hand clamped down over his mouth from the side. Having expertly seized the boy's runaway mouth, Fang Chang turned toward Jiang Xuezhou, gave a slight cough, and spoke with an apologetic tone. "Ahem. My brother was kicked in the head by a donkey when he was a kid, so he doesn't always think before he speaks. Please bear with him. I'll thank you on his behalf. Deep down, he's actually thrilled beyond words. Give it a few days and there's no telling how much he'll be bragging about this; he's just too embarrassed to express it properly right now." "Mmph—! (Who the hell is bragging?!)" Ye Shi continued to protest with his eyes, while Jiu Jiu, having finally laughed her fill in the corner, flashed a brilliant, beaming thumbs-up at Fang Chang. *Nicely done!* "You're welcome, you're welcome... If anything, I was the one holding everyone back earlier... and causing trouble for you all." Unaccustomed to such formal gratitude, Jiang Xuezhou scratched her cheek in slight embarrassment. Fang Chang politely continued on Ye Shi's behalf. "Think nothing of it. We all have areas we aren't suited for, and there will be plenty of opportunities to rely on each other in the future. Besides, even if this guy speaks without thinking, he's actually a decent fellow at heart... We'll be counting on you to take care of him down the road." "Mm!" Jiang Xuezhou nodded with absolute confidence, her face glowing. "Leave it to me!" Replacing and maintaining parts was a walk in the park for her; she certainly wasn't going to fix him up and then abandon him. Muffled behind Fang Chang's hand, Ye Shi couldn't help letting out a few more indignant grunts. He had a sinking feeling he had just been sold out. Knowing Fang Chang, that guy was definitely calculating how to smuggle high-tech gear out of Hesitant Marsh in the back of his mind! Listening to the commotion inside the infirmary, Chu Guang—standing by the doorway—wore an affectionate, fond smile. Reassured, he turned and headed back toward the captain's quarters. Looking out the porthole at the clear sky stretching over the earth below and the morning sun resting atop a pure sea of clouds, he narrowed his eyes slightly, smiling in high spirits. "It's good to be young." Just then, Xiao Qi's voice drifted into his ear. "Master is very young too!" Chu Guang chuckled. "Naturally! By the way, the time is about up. Notify the crew to set off immediately. It's time for us to go home!" Full of drive, Xiao Qi chimed back. "Understood!" At twelve o'clock noon, the *Heart of Steel* sounded its horn. The flight crew busily secured everything across the deck, after which the anchor chains suspended from the gondola were slowly hauled in. Although the war between the Alliance and the Church of the Torch was far from over, military operations targeting the Jinhe City region had officially drawn to a close. From here on, work in the area would focus primarily on reconstruction. Once the Tide was dealt with, the Alliance would continue pushing south until the Church of the Torch was thoroughly purged from this land. When that time came, Singularity City would serve as the logistical transport hub between Dawn City and the front lines. A steel railway spanning nearly eight hundred kilometers had already broken ground from Qingquan City. Since most of the Alliance's railway construction personnel were currently in Sunset Province building the western line that traversed the Lion Kingdom and Honey Badger Kingdom directly to Bicester Town, the workforce for this railway consisted primarily of laborers from Boulder City, totaling nearly three thousand people. According to the assessments of Boulder City's engineers, supported by KV-series exoskeletons and logistics trucks, the construction speed was projected to average ten to fifteen kilometers per day. If everything went smoothly, the entire project could be completed by June. The Second Millennium of the First Corps would be responsible for securing these workers. Meanwhile, over a thousand players between levels 10 and 15 would be guided to the region by the quest system to participate in railway patrols and clear out mutant nests and marauder camps along the route. The order established by the Alliance would spread further afield along the continuously extending tracks. While evaluations by the Ministry of Finance and other departments indicated that the project's budget was certainly no small figure, from a long-term perspective, the investment was undeniably worthwhile. Moreover, the demand for steel driven by this infrastructure order would assist the steel mills in the Daybreak City industrial zone in transitioning from military production to infrastructure, as well as help Boulder City's industrial sector emerge from the shadow of its recent bankruptcies. This would be the Alliance's next major infrastructure undertaking following the housing improvement projects in Dawn City and Boulder City. As for the resulting fiscal deficit, Chu Guang wasn't worried in the slightest. Wasn't it only the beginning of the year? Who on earth fretted over a deficit at the start of a year? Year-end was still a long way off! *** Ideal City. The Kangmao Group Tower. Having rushed back to Ideal City from thousands of kilometers away, Eclipse delivered a comprehensive report to Kang Le regarding the full sequence of events surrounding Frost assuming the role of acting mayor of Singularity City. After listening patiently to Eclipse's report, Kang Le, seated behind the executive desk, suddenly burst into laughter. "Did Frost really say that?" Eclipse nodded. "Those were its exact words." Regarding Frost taking the initiative to meddle in regional affairs, Eclipse held an opposing stance. After all, Singularity City was far too distant from the Enterprise and plainly a burden. In acting as the interim mayor on behalf of the Kangmao Group and the Enterprise, it saw zero benefit. Even if there were benefits, they would belong entirely to the Alliance. Seeing that Kang Le was in an unexpectedly good mood, Eclipse could not help but wonder if its own value-assessment system had suffered a glitch, and asked in confusion, "Do you believe this is a good development, sir?" "Is there a problem with it? An AI managing a settlement strikes me as a progressive endeavor. Even if it's slightly radical and immature, it remains worthy of encouragement." Rising from his desk, Kang Le walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. Gazing out at the boundless prosperity of the city, he narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze drifting into thought. "...Regrettably, we cannot attempt anything similar in Ideal City. Merely getting androids involved in public affairs took an immense amount of effort on our part." Truth be told, he felt a measure of envy toward that Administrator. Every decision the man made could be executed seamlessly across the Alliance, whereas Kang Le's ideas faced considerable resistance even within his own conglomerate. To say nothing of the Supreme Council. Eclipse looked at him, puzzled. "Yet the Council ultimately passed the resolution." Kang Le nodded and replied succinctly, "Yes, but that isn't the crux of the issue. You should have noticed by now: the Council never genuinely opposed android participation in public affairs. What they opposed was our conglomerate monopolizing power. In their eyes, that is an even greater hazard than granting androids civil rights." He understood those people intimately. Because the Kangmao Group was the exact same kind of entity. Their subsidiaries would venture into the wasteland to film marauders clad in miner exoskeletons and wielding G9 assault rifles, presenting evidence at the Council that villains were using Changge's technology for evil—all to exert pressure on the Changge Group and curtail those arms dealers' operational scope. This was neither because they were pacifists nor out of concern that Enterprise technology would leak. It was purely to prevent the Changge Group from dominating Ideal City and reducing the Five Conglomerates to a single titan, which would leave everyone else being led around by the nose by a band of arms dealers. As for weakening marauder factions, bolstering the armaments of civilized wasteland powers, diminishing the intensity of regional conflicts within their sphere of influence, and sustaining the Enterprise's edge in critical technologies... all of that was merely incidental profit reaped from the political maneuvering. Later, when the other conglomerates conceded on the issue of android participation in public affairs, it was certainly not because the risks they had previously fretted over had suddenly evaporated. Rather, it was because they had secured sufficient benefits through horse-trading and leverage to preserve the equilibrium they desired. Kang Le endorsed the Council's existing game-theoretic mechanism; it helped the Enterprise identify a "relative optimum" when pursuing collective interests. A complete ban on arms exports would impair the Enterprise's economic returns and undermine its military readiness over the long run, whereas removing all restrictions entirely was simply asking for trouble. Thus, they instituted a whitelist stipulating what could be sold to whom and in what quantities. That whitelist was the product of such equilibrium. Yet the problem lay in the fact that it consumed far too much time! By now, the existing balance mechanism had become an impediment. To preserve the balance of interests, the Council had grown increasingly conservative in its decision-making, shifting its attitude toward new developments from encouragement to obstruction. Ideal City was transitioning from an upward spiral into a downward spiral. Even if this trend was not yet intuitively reflected in the raw data, as a member of the Council, he had already sensed the signs. To sum it up in a single sentence: Their efficiency was too low! This held true for threats ranging from the Legion to the Church of the Torch. Had their ally not dispatched forces immediately, the plague spread by the Church of the Torch would likely have caused Jinchuan Province to fall... In fact, according to reports from the front, the Church's bio-soldiers had at one point boarded the *Heart of Steel*. Because of the Council's sluggish response, they had nearly forfeited their interests in the central region, and that band of lunatics who should have gone to hell a hundred and fifty years ago had almost succeeded! "I have consistently pushed for androids to participate in public affairs, but the other conglomerates remain wary of our expansion. As a result, taking even a single step forward is excruciatingly difficult... Ideal City is not incapable of fostering new technology; our scholars are in no way inferior to the Academy's, neither in quality nor quantity." Pausing for a moment, Kang Le kept his back turned to Eclipse as he continued, "...Yet just as the Academy mocks us, we have lingered in place for far too long. If you observe closely, you will realize that the prosperity of a century ago is no different from the prosperity of today. The production methods of the past are still in use now. I have every reason to believe that even after another century of cycles, it will remain the same. The *Pioneer* was merely a fleeting miracle, and sorrowfully, the legend of Vault 0 has long vanished into the wind. Now, even the dream that once led us forward has come to an end." "Our citizens do not lack a spirit of adventure and pioneering; the *Pioneer* is the finest proof of that. It was not a product of the Council, even if it was ultimately the Council that had to clean up the mess afterward... Yet that precisely illustrates the issue. The citizens of Ideal City do not fear sacrificing for ideals. What obstructs our progress is not our own conservatism, but the Council's rules, which inherently manufacture an atmosphere of conservatism that shackles our advancement." Eclipse looked at him uncomprehendingly. "Then what is it that you desire, sir?" "I desire a radical transformation—one that elevates Ideal City into a new dimension, just as we once stepped out of the old era and into the Prosperity Era. The technological catalyst has already emerged; the sole obstacle is the Council..." In the midst of his impassioned speech, Kang Le suddenly thought of something, coughed lightly, and cut himself off. "It is still too early to discuss this. I intend to begin experimenting step by step with the theoretical aspects first... Singularity City, for instance, serves as an excellent sociological testing ground." "I look forward to Frost's results. If its achievements prove remarkable enough, we can implement them on a small scale in Yunjian Province, and then let this fresh breeze sweep into our city-state." He did not intend to lay bare the full extent of his vision. After all, no tool could be considered entirely reliable—even an AI that was theoretically incapable of betraying its creator. Casually wrapping up the topic, Kang Le turned back to face Eclipse. "I have grasped the situation in Singularity City. I will handle the explanations to the Council on Frost's behalf. Catch the nearest flight and return as soon as possible. I am not at ease leaving that fellow there alone; to prevent it from botching things, you must keep a closer eye on it." "Understood." Eclipse inclined its head slightly, turning toward the doorway. It understood its assignment clearly, yet one question lingered unresolved in its mind. Frost's AI core had been personally designed by this gentleman himself. Unlike Eclipse, which had been produced on an assembly line, Frost was not a system generated from a standard template. Generally speaking, an AI inherited more or less some of its creator's traits, much like a child inheriting aspects of their parents. Without exaggeration, Frost ought to be like a right-hand man to Mr. Kang Le. If that were the case, why would he feel uneasy about it? Pressing the elevator button, Eclipse shook its head as the doors slowly slid shut. Humans... Truly were difficult to understand.