Chapter 200: Adeptus Mechanicus Can Also Have the Surname Zhang

Chapter 200: The Mechanical Cult, It Could Also Be Named Zhang

“Gentlemen, what on earth are you planning?!”

An hour later, within the manor, Zhang Tao, on the verge of tears yet unable to weep, interrogated He Shuo before him.

He Shuo calmly took a sip of tea, then said:

“I have no idea what we intend to do.”

“We have merely carried out tasks that, under normal circumstances, ought to be performed.”

“These tasks may be meaningless, or they may bear meaning.”

“Whether they become meaningful or remain meaningless depends on personal choice.”

He Shuo’s words were shrouded in mist, yet Zhang Tao already grasped their import.

It was evident that the party had admitted the recent “anomalies” in Jinling City were of their own making, and that those anomalies served a purpose.

But what exactly do they aim to achieve?

If the goal is to unseat the Saint and seize Jinling themselves, why enlist me in the plot?

I am still young; I only wish to trade with you, to carve a path for myself and my men, never having imagined an early march down the road of heresy and rebellion!

——

Even if that step must be taken, it isn’t now, is it??

Zhang Tao’s expression shifted rapidly; he did not know how to answer.

In the end, he could only let out a long sigh and then said:

“This has brought me great trouble.”

“Frankly, if you intend to control Jinling, there’s no need to make it so cumbersome.”

“You could simply eliminate the Saint and take that seat yourselves.”

“Why must you use me as a shield, I”

“You don’t understand.”

He Shuo cut Zhang Tao off, then continued:

“Who occupies the seat is irrelevant; only one thing matters.”

“That is the stability and prosperity of Jinling.”

“Only when Jinling thrives and remains stable can everyone develop with peace of mind.”

“If anyone seeks to undermine that stability, we must eradicate such destabilizing elements.”

“Do you consider the Saint a destabilizing element?”

Zhang Tao, startled, began to speak, and before He Shuo could answer, he went on:

“I admit he has indeed erred many times, and you can see that my discontent with the Church and the Saint has long festered.”

“That is likely why you approached me, yet I do not believe such a method is necessary.”

“The Saint’s term will end; his next transfer of power is not far off, we—”

“We are unwilling to wait.”

He Shuo set down his teacup, rose, and said:

“I will stop here.”

“How you contemplate it is your own business.”

“Now, you may leave.”

“But before you go, I must warn you of one thing.”

“Once you depart this manor, your safety is no longer our responsibility.”

“Whether you survive tonight depends on your own effort.”

A cold threat seeped through the room, and Zhang Tao knew well that the threat was not unfounded.

He had been thrust into the eye of the storm; even if the “Huaxia troops” would not kill to protect secrets, the Mechanical Cult must still find a rational explanation for the myriad omens.

He himself was that most rational explanation.

He had no room left for choice.

He let out a heavy sigh, yet did not rise from his seat.

“Truth be told, I am not ready.”

“My plan is not like this; I have already become far more radical than Jin Zhong, but this scheme still exceeds my expectations.”

“Moreover, I doubt this plan will succeed.”

“The upper echelons of the Mechanical Cult are no fools; the things I can see, can they truly be unseen?”

“They will pierce through our lies, they—”

“Who cares?”

He Shuo interrupted Zhang Tao a third time, then said:

“As I have said, what we care about is the stability and prosperity of Jinling.”

“The root of that stability and prosperity lies in the fifteen thousand civilians here.”

“Regarding the ‘high echelons of the Mechanical Cult’ you mentioned, do they truly need to stay alive?” “The clever survive; the not‑so‑clever will always find a way to be dealt with.”

With those words, He Shuo made a gesturing motion of “please.”

Zhang Tao glanced toward the door, then back at He Shuo, and finally shook his head without rising.

“I have no choice left, right?”

He Shuo gave no answer, only smiled and said:

“In fact, everyone has a choice.”

“We can choose you, or we can choose others.”

“You can choose us, or you can choose your Saint.”

“But we believe that, should you govern the Mechanical Cult and Jinling, the city’s social order would be better served.”

.But I am merely a brigade commander.

Zhang Tao exhaled heavily once more, then said:

“I don’t even bear the surname Jin.”

“Even in my grandest ambitions, I never foresaw this day arriving so swiftly.”

“It matters not.”

He Shuo smiled and said:

“From now on, the Mechanical Cult may bear the name Zhang.”

Half an hour later, Zhang Tao stepped out of the small courtyard where He Shuo resided.

His mind remained a storm of chaotic thoughts, the final words the elder had just spoken lingering in his brain like a tangible presence that would not fade.

“We will forge miracles for you; we shall make you truly become the so‑called Holy Trinity’s agent upon this earth.”

“You need not ascend through the church’s election; the Holy Trinity itself will appoint you.”

“Do not concern yourself with the means by which we shall achieve it.”

“We shall display the divine power of the God of Ten Thousand Machines.”

“What? Prayer?”

“No, it is unnecessary.”

“Your God of Ten Thousand Machines has always answered to us.”

Zhang Tao replayed those words over and over, the initial shock and terror having vanished, replaced by a profound self‑doubt.

The God of Ten Thousand Machines obeys them.

Could that be true?

Such blasphemous utterances slipped from his own mouth as if spoken with casual indifference.

Perhaps they were merely stating a “fact,” not spewing idle nonsense.

Zhang Tao felt his thoughts in disarray.

The decisive, spirited bearing he had shown before Jin Zhong had completely disappeared.

Perhaps only when faced with a true master does one finally understand that the so‑called “ambition” and “guts” are but trivialities before them.

Zhang Tao lifted his head and sighed once more.

At that moment, he suddenly noticed a squad of imperial guards marching toward him.

Their armor was immaculate, weapons gripped tightly in hand.

An ominous foreboding rose within him, yet Zhang Tao did not retreat.

Only when the leader of the squad stood before him did he finally discern the identity of the newcomers.

They were the genuine “Imperial Guard,” the saint’s personal guard.

Their purpose needed no explanation.

“Colonel Zhang Tao of the Fifteenth Guard Regiment, the saint summons you to meet within the sanctuary.”

The head of the Imperial Guard spoke coldly, while Zhang Tao merely shook his head slightly and then said;

“Ask them for their opinion.”

In an instant, lights flared behind him.

Two “Xingtian” heavy unmanned vehicles, two “Spearhead” bipedal robots, and six Iron Wolf quadruped machines all loaded their weapons in unison.

Zhang Tao fixed his gaze upon the Imperial Guard commander’s eyes, then spoke:

“I have already petitioned the Holy Eight‑One, who also serves under the God of Ten Thousand Machines, for protection.”

“From this day forward, until the day the sinner atones, I shall see no one.”

(End of Chapter)