Chapter 182: Get Over Here Yourself!

Chapter 182: Roll Over Here!

Has Jinling fallen?

Not yet.

Yet the Huaxia troops entered Jinling City with the bearing of victors.

In a word, it’s as if we had won.

Chen Jian finally saw the point: in this post‑apocalyptic wasteland, expanding one’s power need not always mean clashing swords with the old powers; making an example of a few can be a fine strategy.

Look at the present: after crushing the army of Huadu in an instant, the followers of the Mechanical Cult and the Holy Blood Hall have become far more obedient, haven’t they?

Though not to the level of a triumphant parade with pure water and yellow earth lining the streets, they have indeed moved unimpeded, and every guard regiment soldier within the city, adhering to their protocol, saluted Chen Jian’s eight‑person squad.

Compared with the rot of the high command, these front‑line fighters clearly understand what gratitude means.

When the eight of them passed through the city gate and truly entered Jinling’s inner districts, the civilians who had been frantic, tense, and fearful finally lowered their guard.

A sea of people knelt along the street, every gaze fixed upon Chen Jian and his companions.

At first, Chen Jian thought the civilians were merely sensible enough to know who had saved them.

But he quickly realized otherwise.

The ones they knelt to were not the men themselves, but the mechs they wore!

The “statue” on Jinling’s main boulevard mirrors the Nezha exoskeletons Chen Jian’s group dons; the locals have watched it for over a decade, even decades, and when a statue suddenly moves, how could they not kneel?

Damn!

We won’t end up becoming a wedding dress for the Mechanical Cult again, will we?

Don’t let it come to a point where they think their “saint” has summoned a true god.

Chen Jian dared not delay; he rushed a command over the radio:

“Raise the flag now! Tell them we are the Huaxia army, not the Mechanical Cult!”

“Understood!”

Lei Jie replied immediately, then asked:

“Red flag or military flag?”

“First the military flag! With so few of us, what right have we to raise a red flag?”

“Copy!”

Lei Jie swept his arm, and the well‑preserved battle flag he had painstakingly retrieved from the 011 unit unfurled at once.

The banner fluttered high atop a 30A tank, and every Jinling resident who saw it bowed low in respect.

But what followed left Chen Jian utterly bewildered.

Someone on the street suddenly shouted aloud.

“Supreme Eight‑One is above! Glory to the Sacred Eight‑One!”

Immediately, a roar like mountains and seas rose in unison.

“We give thanks for Eight‑One’s mercy!”

“Sacred Eight‑One! Grant blessings upon your people!”

“We thank Sacred Eight‑One for granting us mortal life, sparing us from heretical slaughter!”

“Thank you, Sacred Eight‑One, for rescuing me from disaster and confusion!”

Chen Jian was completely stunned.

He turned back to the flag, its massive characters “Eight‑One” shining brilliantly.

Holy crap!

What the hell is this mix‑up?!

Do these people really think we are the “true god”??

He then glanced at Jin Zhong, the guide, whose mind crackled like thunder the instant the flag unfurled.

To him, everything seemed to fall into place.

No wonder you can command the immobile giant elephants that the Sacred Three‑One cannot, why you possess aerial weapons absent from Three‑One, why the technologies the Mechanical Cult lacks are at your fingertips.

The saint worships Three‑One; you revere Eight‑One!

Perhaps you are the “Supreme Deity” after all!

Jin Zhong’s stare shifted from shock to reverence; he even felt the urge to drop to his knees on the spot.

Seeing his expression, Chen Jian realized this matter could not be clarified any time soon.

At that moment, the reception team dispatched by the Mechanical Cult finally arrived; upon seeing Chen Jian’s “mechanized unit” and the raised banner, their faces shifted instantly from gloom and worry to ecstatic joy.

Our own people!

The newcomers surged forward with unbridled excitement, greeting them with a fervor Chen Jian had never anticipated.

Then, amid wave after wave of cheers, the reception staff led their squad, along with the unmanned combat clusters it carried, to the inner‑ring core; after profusely thanking “Supreme Eight‑One” for the salvation, they lodged the group in a spacious manor that bordered on extravagant excess.

“The saint is bathing; after completing all rites, he will come here to meet you.”

“If you need anything, you may call upon me directly.”

“In the name of the Sacred Three‑One, perhaps we were brothers all along.”

“Please feel no restraint; the domain of Sacred Three‑One is also the paradise of Sacred Eight‑One.”

The reception staff uttered a series of bewildering statements; Chen Jian could only laugh and weep, unable to rebut them on the spot, and thus let them pass.

When the reception team finally left, Jin Zhong, after a long hesitation, mustered the courage to ask:

“You… are also worshippers of the God of Ten Thousand Machines?”

“The Eight‑One you revere, is it a mechanistic deity like the Sacred Three‑One?”

“.”

Chen Jian and his companions were left speechless.

After a few seconds of silence, he answered:

“Our Eight‑One has no connection to your Three‑One.”

“I have long said that the so‑called Sacred Three‑One does not exist; such a god is nowhere in this world.”

“You mean the deity we worship is a false god?”

Jin Zhong’s tone held a hint of surprise, yet lacked the anger Chen Jian had expected.

On the contrary, he was remarkably calm.

——

Admittedly, after witnessing firsthand the combat methods of Chen Jian’s Huaxia army, the deep‑seated religious imprint in his mind had to be scrubbed, at least a little.

Yet even so, he could not instantly shed his entrenched conviction.

It's as if now you tell him that God does not exist; he won't think you're denying the very concept of God, only that you're denying the God he worships.

—It's not that the deity you worship is a false god; there is simply no god at all.

In this world, the notion of a god does not exist; in the material realm, what could possibly be omnipotent?

Jin Zhong was taken aback for a moment, then said:

—Yet we have never claimed that the Holy Trinity is omnipotent.

At least in the original doctrine, the Holy Trinity is not omnipotent.

Perhaps, in recent decades, its status has been elevated by the Church.

“Huh?”

This time it was Chen Jian who stared in bewilderment.

God is not omnipotent?

What a reckless assertion!

Does any religion in the world truly accept such a teaching?

He looked at Jin Zhong, who continued:

“Perhaps, according to your understanding, the Holy Trinity is merely a summation of higher‑order forces, of knowledge beyond our comprehension.”

“Indeed, this world contains many phenomena we cannot explain nor grasp, does it not?”

“The Holy Trinity may be a god, and the Holy Eight‑One may also be a god.”

“A saint may be a saint, then you…”

“Why not be a saint as well?”

— Chen Jian was left utterly speechless.

Jin Zhong's logic had become perfectly self‑consistent; even after his worldview was severely shaken, he had found another way to rationalize the religion he believed in.

Damn it.

What natural theology!

At that moment Jin Zhong perhaps did not yet realize that he had taken a crucial step from theology toward science, even proposing a variant of the “watchmaker theory.”

Yet Chen Jian keenly sensed that this man's appearance might herald another trend.

That is, within the Mechanical Church, there may be a faction that can be wholly won over.

Compared with the Hall of Sacred Blood, the Sacred Blood followers could be swayed merely because their organization is loose, and Zeng Yi, Xie Liu, and Ji Xing had all spoken of their “cruelty”; but if the Mechanical Church's adherents could be won over,

that would truly be because they are progressive enough.

Chen Jian exchanged glances with a few others, resolutely chose not to press Jin Zhong further, and said offhand:

“You should ponder this question yourself.”

“All I can tell you is that the so‑called Eight‑One is not the same as the Holy Trinity you hold.”

“The two numbers Eight‑One signify meanings forged by the first martyrs with their lives, then sustained by successive generations with blood and sweat.”

“That is not something your primitive, ignorant religious beliefs can appropriate.”

“I hope you will make this clear to your Church, your saints, and the common folk of Jinling City.”

“We do not need them to worship us.”

“We only need them to trust us.”

—Yes.

Jin Zhong lowered his head, his eyes full of confusion.

He had never imagined that the man before him would so unhesitatingly deny any link between Eight‑One and Three‑One.

Why is that?

Even if there was never a link, now that everyone assumes there is, why not simply go with the flow and acknowledge it?

That would have been the easiest, most convenient way to expand influence, wouldn't it?

Perhaps, as the other side suggested, those two numbers truly bear an unsullied significance.

With that thought, Jin Zhong ceased his resistance, rose, and silently left the room.

He gently closed the door, and the moment it shut, Chen Jian could no longer hold himself together.

He collapsed onto a sturdy wooden bench, his heavy exoskeleton creaking the seat with a rattling groan.

The others, fearing the bench might give way, simply sat on the floor.

After a brief respite, Shen Yue spoke:

“Now the fun's really begun.”

“Tell me, if they truly take our Eight‑One banner as their god, what will become of us?”

“What can we do? We'll just take it one step at a time.”

Chen Jian sighed helplessly, then said:

“Such a bizarre faith could bring us many ‘converts’; from any angle, it serves us well.”

“Only that we must invest more effort in education.”

“That’s already a decent start—civilians under the Mechanical Church are quality population in the wasteland; recruiting them is far better than pulling in the poisonous insects of Huadu.”

“But the exact method remains to be seen as events unfold.”

“We came here originally for negotiations; once that so‑called saint arrives, we can sit down and talk properly.”

“So what exactly do we want? The whole of Jinling City?”

Lei Jie asked curiously, and Chen Jian shook his head:

“We don't want Jinling City; forcing our base to relocate there would only increase our cold‑start costs.”

“What we seek is nothing more than manpower, resources, and intelligence.”

“Which of those three to prioritize will be assessed first by Fuxi.”

As Chen Jian's words faded, Fuxi's voice traveled through the newly‑installed cellular network base stations and reached his earpiece.

“Understood. Outputting development path plan. Phase‑one scheme completed. Basic industrial plan completed. Resource and manpower list compiled. List transmission complete.”

Accompanied by Fuxi's voice, a simple plan materialized before Chen Jian's eyes.

He gave it a cursory glance and randomly discovered that Fuxi's plan did not differ much from his expectations.

With two fusion reactors still in reserve, energy demand was not urgent; instead, ironworking and machining became the primary targets.

Beyond that lay the age‑old trio of three acids and two bases—the most fundamental segment of modern industry.

Fuxi listed the estimated quantities of resources and personnel needed after the cold start; setting aside the resources, the demand for “200 industrial workers” was far below Chen Jian's projection.

Industry 8.0, terrifying in its magnitude.

Satisfied, Chen Jian stared at the list; with this in hand, his future negotiations with the Mechanical Church now had a solid reference, and his focus points were far clearer.

“Let’s proceed with this—Rei Jie, what do you think?”

“I see no issue; shall we just vote on it?”

Eight hands rose in unison, and the motion passed unanimously.

And just as the few of us finalized the plan, awaiting an audience with the Mechanical Church’s “leader,” a sudden rap sounded at the door.

Then the attendant entered, bowing with deference.

“The Saint has completed his ablutions and now awaits you in the sanctuary.”

“Please follow me to the sanctuary to meet the Saint.”

As the words fell, several of the Holy Blood rose instinctively, yet none of the others, Chen Jian among them, moved a muscle.

“What do you mean?”

Chen Jian stared at the attendant, then asked:

“You’re saying he won’t come here to see us, and we must go to the sanctuary to meet him?”

“Huh?”

The question left the attendant rooted to the spot.

He could not fathom what Chen Jian meant.

Isn’t it perfectly ordinary to meet the Saint within the sanctuary itself?

The Saint has already performed his solemn ablutions, burnt incense, prayed, and arrived early to await us in the sanctuary.

Such honor, such courtesy, has never before been bestowed upon anyone.

And you dare ask, “He won’t come here?”

This.

The attendant’s mind flashed; in an instant he grasped the gravity of the situation.

Then, with a forced smile, he said:

“Receiving guests in the sanctuary is far more solemn; the Saint has been waiting a long while and harbors no disrespect toward any of you divine envoys.”

“Then you should have led us to the sanctuary from the start.”

Chen Jian sprang to his feet, and his towering two‑meter‑plus mech exuded an unparalleled aura of oppression.

Immediately, his voice, low yet resolute, rang out:

“Bring him here.”

“I’ll give him only five minutes!”

(End of Chapter)