Chapter 204: Underground Great Wall

Chapter 204: The Subterranean Great Wall

The news of Jin Cheng’s death swept through Jinling City like a relentless tide.

After his demise, it was only natural that Zhang Tao assumed his place.

Of course, at this moment he was not yet the so‑called “Sage”; at most he could be called a “Acting City Lord.”

Yet without doubt, he had already become the hope of the people.

Chosen by the God of Ten Thousand Machines as the Arbiter, the Angel’s most loyal comrade, the hero who quashed the rebellion of the unjust, the merciful master who forgave the blinded faithful.

The titles piled upon his head were so numerous that even storytellers could not recount them all when spreading his legend.

Apart from him, who else could merit the appellation “Sage”?

Perhaps the “elders” of the Supreme Eight‑One might.

But it was clear that their ambitions lay elsewhere.

Seated upon the throne at the very heart of the Sanctuary, Zhang Tao let out a long sigh.

Fresh blood, still wet, clung to his armor—spilled by other guardians who were innocent.

In this conspiracy they were nothing but sacrificial lambs.

——

Yet who among us is not a sacrifice?

Zhang Tao gave a wry smile, shook his head, and at that instant a figure clad in heavy armor entered through the sanctuary’s great doors.

Rising to his feet, Zhang Tao’s expression remained placid as he spoke:

“You have come.”

“I anticipated your arrival, yet I did not expect you to linger so long.”

The newcomer was Jin Zhong, commander of the Fourth Legion of the Sanctuary Guard, his face a canvas of shock, fury, and grief.

Before stepping into the sanctuary he had been stripped of his weapons.

Yet the clenched fists he bore revealed he was ready to fight Zhang Tao with bare hands.

As his words fell, he strode a few steps to the foot of the throne and, with a harsh tone, demanded:

“This is your plot!”

“You already knew the Huaxia troops needed a proxy, so you rushed to meet them the moment you entered the city!”

“You were the one who released the information!”

“What’s this talk of manipulating beast tides, what tricks of a Sage?”

“Hold on.”

Zhang Tao cut Jin Zhong off, then, slightly puzzled, asked:

“What beast tide?”

Jin Zhong was taken aback.

From Zhang Tao’s countenance it was clear the other knew nothing of the alleged “beast tide.”

Such an expression could not be feigned; though his opponent was a master of disguise, Jin Zhong, having grown up alongside him, trusted his own perception.

A wave of bewilderment engulfed Jin Zhong, and he incredulously retorted:

“You are unaware of the beast tide?!”

“I am not.”

Zhang Tao slowly shook his head and asked:

“Why do I feel you know more than I do?”

With those words spoken, Jin Zhong’s expression shifted dramatically.

He finally understood: both he and Zhang Tao were merely pawns of the Huaxia forces.

They had used him to obtain crucial intelligence, then employed Zhang Tao to eliminate the greatest threat—the Sage.

Throughout, the two pawns had never exchanged a word.

Jin Zhong drew a sharp breath of cold air.

He had always believed that, in the art of strategy, only the enigmatic Ring Consortium could rival the Mechanical Church.

Yet now he realized that the Mechanical Church’s “strategies” before the Huaxia troops were as childish as a game of make‑believe.

They paid it no heed at all.

How did they achieve this?

How could they seem to know everything?

Jin Zhong’s face contorted wildly, while opposite him Zhang Tao had already grasped the truth.

“So you, too, are a cog in their design, are you not?”

Zhang Tao smiled helplessly and said:

“Let me guess—they obtained the key information from you, which underpinned the entire operation, correct?”

Jin Zhong nodded in silent assent.

Seeing his reaction, Zhang Tao sighed with relief:

“Very well, that works for me.”

“I was still pondering how to explain this to you.”

“But now there is no need for explanations.”

“We are already on the same vessel.”

“From now on we must cooperate fully.”

“Especially before the Huaxia troops, our cooperation must be flawless.”

“Otherwise they will never feel at ease, will they?”

“—Indeed.”

Jin Zhong exhaled heavily.

“What they seek is stability.”

“They can no longer tolerate any new source of unrest.”

Jin Zhong released his clenched fist; the anger on his face vanished, replaced by a heavy dose of self‑mockery.

“I once believed I could stop you.”

“I understand your resentment, yet I thought we could achieve this by a gentler means.”

“Alas, I failed to do so.”

“I was wrong.”

Zhang Tao shook his head, correcting himself:

“I have thought it over carefully.”

“This is the gentlest approach.”

“There is no other method that could achieve such astonishing results for such a modest cost.”

“The rotten flesh that had long since decayed has been entirely excised, and the Mechanical Cult shall be reborn.”

“Isn’t this, after all, the best outcome?”

“Perhaps.”

Jin Zhong slowly lifted his head and said:

“If you are the right choice, then this is the best result.”

“But if you are not.”

“If I am not, they will have you take my place.”

Zhang Tao interrupted Jin Zhong and continued:

“That would be a better outcome.”

Elsewhere, inside Facility 011.

Chen Jian had already received news that Jin City had been “cleansed” and that order had been restored in Jinling.

This lifted his spirits, as he had been waiting in the office.

Seeing that the clock had passed twelve, he, as was his habit, stepped out of the compound, exchanged a nod with the new recruits who were being punished to stand, and made his way straight to the stove to ladle himself a steaming bowl of meat porridge.

“Every day it’s the same thing, Fuxi. Let’s try something different tomorrow.”

“Copy that, commander. How about swapping chicken porridge for pork?”

Does it make any difference?

Chen Jian replied helplessly:

“Can your robot knead dough? It could make some mantou, you know.”

“In theory, yes, but it would violate your efficiency‑first directive.”

Fuxi’s voice carried a hint of sardonic amusement:

“Have you forgotten? You programmed me to act with optimal efficiency, and turning food into meat porridge is part of that efficiency.”

“Of course, to prevent the long‑term damage that a liquid diet can inflict on the digestive system, I will make adjustments.”

“Will you change it to rice?”

“No, I’ll thicken it a little.”

“Let’s change the subject.”

Chen Jian swallowed the bowl of porridge with a sigh, and as he lifted his gaze he was startled to see a light flickering near the makeshift tents of the displaced. “What are they doing?”

“They’re making bricks; comrade Ji Xing is with them.”

Ji Xing?

Curious, Chen Jian walked toward the tents, and after crossing a low rise he immediately saw the refugees shaping bricks by the dim glow of a modest lamp.

“Working this late?”

Chen Jian spoke up; the foreman Ji Xing turned, nodding:

“Yes, we must hurry.”

“Today Fuxi has already commandeered the robots to forge most of the molds, but those machines have other duties and cannot come directly to lay bricks.”

“So we must press on ourselves and erect the brick kilns first.”

“They’re nearly finished; Fuxi has inspected them and found no serious flaws.”

“After air‑drying and then firing them, we can use the two kilns to produce refractory bricks.”

“The day after tomorrow, I’ll do my best to have them operational.”

“There’s no need to rush so much.”

Chen Jian glanced at the clock and said:

“It’s already twelve; we can’t keep squeezing them like this. Let them eat and rest.”

“Understood. It was almost over anyway.”

Ji Xing exhaled, turned, and issued orders to the still‑toiling refugees; only then did they set down their bricks, hesitantly sidestepping Chen Jian and his companion, and trudged toward the distant stove that dispensed meat porridge.

Watching their backs, Chen Jian asked suddenly:

“Do you understand the rationing system? I heard Fuxi said you’ve already been taught.”

“I have. A batch of labor‑points tokens has been minted; they’re sufficient for now.”

Ji Xing replied:

“Today I distributed twenty‑four tokens, each covering a day’s food for one person. So far it’s working; the refugees are laboring with vigor.”

“However, trust isn’t built yet; I reclaimed twenty tokens today—exchanging them all for food.”

Ji Xing’s face showed a hint of displeasure, while Chen Jian spoke freely:

“That’s normal; once they get used to swapping tokens for food, they’ll gradually believe in the tokens’ purchasing power.”

“When you were a guard you trekked with caravans across the south and north, so you know these matters better. When you have time, help us build a price‑setting system.”

“The clearer the price system, the higher the credibility of the tokens.”

“When token‑based rationing evolves into a monetary system, our governance will be far easier.”

“Understood.”

Ji Xing nodded again, then added:

“But I intend to postpone those matters for now.”

“Although Jinling’s crisis is solved, greater challenges loom ahead.”

“Our priority now is still to build the ‘coking furnace’ you mentioned; wherever I can be of aid, I’ll do my best.”

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

Chen Jian asked, puzzled:

“I mean, you seem far more anxious than the others.”

“Why not be urgent? Isn’t the furnace built to forge weapons and fend off the beast tide?”

“That could be said, yes.”

Chen Jian replied offhand, then asked:

“Are the beast tides truly terrifying? Do you understand them?”

“If I understood them, I wouldn’t be bothering you to gather such extensive intel.”

Ji Xing sighed and replied:

“ I know nothing of the Beast Tide, but I have truly seen a Tier‑One monster.”

“ By the way, I intended to upload the information about Tier‑One monsters to the computer, but I still don’t know how to operate it.”

“ Now happens to be the perfect moment; I can tell you everything I know.”

“ Then let’s sit and talk.”

Chen Jian settled on the earthen slope, and after a moment’s hesitation Ji Xing took a seat beside him, a little lower down.

After a silent pause of recollection, she gathered her thoughts and began:

“ As I told you before, a Tier‑One monster is a kind of entity utterly unlike any other creature.”

“ Sometimes, when I recall it, it no longer feels like a ‘monster’ at all, but rather a certain ‘concept.’”

“ A concept? Give an example.”

“ Like that creature in the Jinling Ruins.”

Ji Xing answered:

“ Commander, don’t you think this creature already bears some hallmarks of a concept?”

“ For instance, its core is not the most threatening part; rather, the environment it alters and the swarm of small symbiotic monsters around it are the true dangers.”

“ That is what a Tier‑One monster is like. I find it hard to describe what that beast I saw on the edge of the mountain city looked like or what powers it possessed.”

“ Because I never saw it clearly.”

“ But after encountering that Tier‑Two monster in Jinling City, I am certain it is of the same kind, only far more powerful.”

“ It seems to dominate an entire ‘domain.’”

“ And anyone who steps into that domain vanishes in an instant, reduced to ash.”

“ Vanish to ash? Is that a metaphor or—”

“ It’s literal description—the literal scattering of ash.”

Ji Xing answered each word with deliberate pause.

“ It defies common sense; it’s hard to believe such a thing could exist on Earth.”

“ I find it equally hard to accept. I have no idea how that creature manages it.”

Ji Xing sighed again, then said:

“ Therefore, my dread of the Beast Tide far exceeds yours.”

“ If a Tier‑One monster truly emerges within the Beast Tide, how should we confront it?”

“ I know we are strong.”

“ But against such a monster, our current weapons may indeed stand little chance of victory.”

“ It doesn’t matter.”

Chen Jian comforted:

“ We possess even stronger armaments.”

“ You mean the sun? Nuclear missiles?”

“ Yes.”

Chen Jian nodded slowly, then continued:

“ You’re already one of us, so there’s no need to keep anything from you.”

“ The key weapons we use against the Beast Tide are not the ones we currently carry.”

“ Matching their level has never been our objective.”

“ If the Beast Tide is formidable, we will wield weapons even stronger than theirs.”

“ Only then can we ensure our safety.”

When the words fell, Ji Xing’s expression instantly relaxed.

A slightly awkward smile tugged at her lips, and she said:

“ I thought you no longer possessed such weapons.”

“ Indeed, we don’t have them now.”

Chen Jian laughed heartily and replied:

“ But I know where they are.”

“ Once the Jinling City issue is resolved, we’ll take some time to travel to your hometown—the imperial capital that houses the Sacred Blood Hall.”

“ There lies what we seek.”

“ What is it?”

Ji Xing asked curiously, and Chen Jian answered:

“ Project 001.”

“ And the entrance to the underground nuclear Great Wall!”

(End of Chapter)