Chapter 225: Mountain City Paradox

Chapter 225: The Paradox of the Mountain City

“This is a device I have never seen before, but without doubt, it is a neural‑linked brain‑machine.”

In Cangzhou, Chen Jian listened silently to Fuxi’s voice through his headphones.

“It contains every component required of a neural‑linked brain‑machine, yet its architecture is a purposefully simplified one.”

“Thicker connection cables, a fully sealed design, and an extremely simple, rudimentary chip construction.”

“Its true ‘functional module’ is actually quite small; the one‑meter‑long ‘body’ we see is nothing more than an intricate battery system.”

“It draws power from the acidic fluids inside the monsters, using them as a natural electrolyte, and generates electricity through redox reactions at metal electrodes.”

“In terms of volume, this system can continuously output 400 mW per square centimeter—more than enough to power this modest brain‑machine apparatus.”

“Its design is exquisite. Though I cannot say how long it could theoretically run, the state of the electrodes suggests it can still operate for at least sixty to ninety days.”

“Commander, we can confirm this is a meticulously engineered artifact.”

“It was created expressly to control the monsters we have been discussing.”

“And these devices have been deployed only recently.”

“I estimate the deployment window will not exceed sixty days.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian exhaled deeply, his voice tinged with disbelief as he said:

“A battery powered by acidic fluid sounds utterly illogical.”

“Who on earth would devise such a thing, and how could they have thought of it?”

“I have no idea how they imagined it.”

Lei Jie interjected:

“But back when we were in that era, MIT in the United States had already tinkered with similar batteries.”

“They lodged those cells inside a pig’s stomach to power certain sensors.”

“In theory, the technology is mature.”

“Yet I cannot fathom why such a contraption would be used on monsters.”

“Captain, do you think this has anything to do with the faction that created the genetic progenitors?”

“I can only assume it does.”

Chen Jian furrowed his brow, thought for a moment, then said:

“The technical difficulty of fabricating this is certainly no less than building a missile, perhaps even greater.”

“A power capable of mass‑producing such devices must possess technology at least equal to ours, if not a tier above.”

“If we follow that line of reasoning, the Beast Tide could indeed be a man‑made phenomenon.”

“But that flies in the face of logic.”

“The whole wasteland looks like a mess; if they truly wield such advanced technology, why would they stagnate instead of advancing? What purpose would that serve?”

“Creating a brain‑machine is far more complex than forging a gun or a cannon; it demands a complete industrial infrastructure.”

“I cannot comprehend the existence of such a faction—it is a pure paradox, an inexplicable contradiction.”

“If they exist, we should have heard their name long ago; if they do not, this thing should never have appeared.”

“Perhaps it is not a paradox at all.”

Ji Xing suddenly spoke, cutting Chen Jian off, and added:

“There is indeed a place whose name we have long heard but never seen.”

“The Mountain City.”

Chen Jian replied in a low voice:

“If these artifacts truly hail from the Mountain City, then, given the previous clues, a hard‑logic explanation becomes plausible.”

“The 004 installation went dark, AI took over construction, and drawing upon the Mountain City’s massive strategic reserves, a full industrial complex was erected, followed by the manufacture of this brain‑machine parasite.”

“Every point checks out; technically it is entirely feasible.”

“But there is one problem that cannot be sidestepped.”

“Motive.”

At that, Chen Jian paused, then continued:

“Fuxi.”

“I’m here.” Fuxi’s voice rang out immediately.

“Commander, I know what you are about to ask.”

“And I can assure you, with my capabilities, I could indeed accomplish such a feat.”

“After all, the Mountain City is an exceptionally unique place; it not only houses the 004 installation, but one could say that from the moment we foresaw the possibility of war, the entire city has functioned as a massive disaster‑prevention complex.”

“Utilizing its resources, restoring an industrial base would not be overly difficult; given enough time, producing brain‑machines and controlling monsters is entirely achievable.”

“Yet my foundational design logic would not permit me to make that decision.”

“Based on the data at hand, I can already extrapolate future development trajectories.”

“If the goal is ‘to restore humanity to its pre‑cataclysm state,’ I can derive dozens of reliable pathways, none of which require compromising with the monsters.”

“If the AI governing the Mountain City still runs on the Fuxi framework, I doubt it would choose a path different from mine.”

“Unless—”

“—unless it possesses information that I do not, forcing it toward that choice.”

Chen Jian cut off Fuxi’s narration.

After a brief silence, Fuxi repeated in a slightly hushed tone:

“Yes.”

“—unless it possesses information that I do not, compelling it to make that choice.”

As the words faded, everyone in the room fell into a heavy silence.

Everyone could imagine what the so‑called “different information” might refer to.

The truth of the Great Cataclysm, or perhaps the truth of the secondary disaster.

That is the crux of the informational discrepancy.

But if that is the case,

what severity must the so‑called Great Cataclysm have reached to drive the Mountain City’s “Fuxi” to make such a decision?

And, to what level of development must the Mountain City have attained to accomplish such a grand, even strategic‑scale undertaking?

The situation suddenly took a sharp turn.

Originally, the greatest challenge the nascent Huaxia forces faced on the wasteland was merely the Beast Tide.

But now, a hidden mastermind has begun to surface, faintly breaking the water's veil.

Is it truly the Mountain City?

Chen Jian was uncertain.

All current deductions were nothing more than speculation.

And to bring those conjectures to ground

they must reach the Mountain City.

Chen Jian closed his eyes, pondered a moment, then spoke:

‘Hold off for now.’

‘With our present capabilities, entering the Mountain City is utterly impossible.’

‘I trust Ji Xing; she says there lies a first‑grade monster there, a claim that aligns with the Ring Chamber of Commerce’s reports.’

‘We cannot be hasty.’

‘Rather than rashly pressing forward, we should first sort the clues at hand.’

‘We can now confirm that those so‑called gene progenitors originated from the Imperial Capital, and in their fabrication, the “brain‑machine” device was inevitably introduced.’

‘This mirrors the method used to create the Beast Tide; the technological path is entirely identical.’

‘Perhaps even the Beast Tide and the gene progenitors share a common origin.’

‘As for why they would clash with each other, that is another matter.’

‘In any case, we head to the Imperial Capital first.’

‘We must hurry.’

(End of Chapter)