Chapter 258: The Simplest Education

Chapter 258 The Simplest Education

“The situation is far from optimistic.”

Chen Jian sat in the war‑command room, the screen displaying a cascade of compiled battle reports and the live conditions of nearby human settlements transmitted by reconnaissance balloons.

From the information gathered so far, the overwhelming majority of small towns had been assaulted by monsters; although under the joint defense of the Mechanical Cult and the Sanctified Blood Hall most towns suffered only light damage, communication with Hanhui City allowed Chen Jian to draw an unmistakable conclusion.

They would not hold out for long.

The long‑standing peace with the monsters had not lulled the peoples’ martial readiness; as a naturally warlike species, they were constantly, almost instinctively, plotting expansion.

Yet, with technology and training stagnant, and the cost of fighting the monsters so high that humanity lacked sufficient trial‑and‑error or real‑combat opportunities, they proved woefully weak when confronting the beasts, especially when the monsters attacked in concert.

Settlements with a relatively ample supply of Sanctified Blood wielded a modest advantage, for they could furnish the city garrisons with reconnaissance intel and tactical guidance.

But if a town possessed only a handful—or none at all—of the Sanctified Blood, the battle would instantly become precarious.

Chen Jian furrowed his brow and continued:

“The Hanhui situation is still tolerable; at least the guardian troops have held, and the losses are not severe.”

“But further south—Yuzhang, Qianzhou, Hengzhou—those places are a different story.”

“The surrounding hamlets have almost all suffered devastating blows, and a tide of refugees is streaming toward the great cities.”

“These refugees carry some supplies, but it is clear they cannot survive more than a month.”

“Fortunately the weather is warming; otherwise, merely keeping warm would claim the lives of more than half the people.”

“Our window of time is shrinking.”

“He Shuo, what does the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce say?”

The words hung in the air, and He Shuo’s voice crackled from the speaker.

“The Jiangnan Chamber’s envoy reports that they have opened a trade route from Jinling to the Deep City.”

“That route will radiate outward from Hengzhou, serving all surrounding regions.”

“Since the monsters at Chuansha City were eliminated, this route cuts the one that formerly passed through Yuzhang in half the travel time and more than doubles its cargo capacity.”

“Going forward, per our request, they will re‑allocate cargo, ensuring at least seventy percent of transport capacity is devoted to 75‑type rifles.”

“The next convoy will set out in two days, delivering six thousand rifles and one hundred and fifty thousand rounds of ammunition to Hengzhou.”

“They will also bring a haul of secondary weapons seized from Huadu—hand grenades, mines, explosives, and a modest number of rocket launchers.”

“Those arms should lend a measure of aid to the defenses of nearby towns.”

“I have asked Fuxi to run the numbers; if a single convoy’s cache of weapons can save one human settlement, the overall profit is at least break‑even for us.”

“After all, the loss of grain, productivity, and manufactured goods when a town is razed far outweighs the value of the weapons.”

“Nevertheless, the impact of weapon trade is limited; we must provide them with stronger support.”

“I understand.”

Chen Jian nodded slowly.

He knew all too well that arms alone could not overturn the tide; the optimal course was for the Huaxia army to dispatch combat forces directly to each besieged town.

Yet under the present circumstances that strategy was plainly unattainable.

Not to mention sending a full combat unit— even sending a single instructor or commander would be a case of good intentions but no capacity for the Huaxia forces.

With that thought, Chen Jian spoke:

“For now, let us buy time with weapons.”

“If we can hold out until the first aircraft is built, the pressure on our surroundings will ease considerably.”

“Lei Jie, how does the Mosquito‑type bomber project fare?”

“The rotary cutter has been fabricated; today we are assembling it.”

Lei Jie gave a light wave, and the footage of the cutter in operation streamed instantly onto the screen.

“I have already distributed the plywood‑manufacturing manual; now Ji Xing is leading a small crew to produce the sheets.”

“Their progress is steady; accounting for waste, we expect the materials to be ready within two days, after which secondary processing and assembly can begin.”

“Excellent.”

Chen Jian smiled in satisfaction.

At this pace, the construction time for a Mosquito bomber could be compressed to under five days.

Though the final product would inevitably be crude, rough, perhaps even shoddy, securing the mere existence of an aircraft outranks any debate over its quality.

Thus, he pressed on:

“After the wasteland is reclaimed and sowed, increase Ji Xing’s manpower and accelerate material production as much as possible.”

“From now on this team will be dedicated solely to fabricating aircraft components.”

“Once the majority of workers become proficient, we can train them further toward assembly, and eventually design and maintenance.”

“No problem.”

Receiving Lei Jie’s affirmation, Chen Jian paused briefly before continuing:

“Now, let us return to the pressing issue at hand.”

“Hanhui City has appealed for aid, and we have pledged assistance.”

“But what form should that aid take? What do you think is most appropriate?”

“In theory, dispatching a squad to Hanhui should resolve the crisis they face.”

“Yet Hanhui lies almost a thousand kilometres from Jinling; the round‑trip introduces too many variables.”

“I’m not inclined toward that plan; what are your thoughts?”

“I disagree as well.”

He Shuo’s voice rang out again, and he added:

“Intelligence indicates that the town of Wuxue near Hanhui harbors a large contingent of mercenaries.”

“If the situation is truly dire, we could hire a band of mercenaries to reinforce Hanhui.”

“Their arms are rather outdated, so we would supply them with weapons and give them upgrades.”

“Doing so would raise both timeliness and safety considerably.”

“Do you have the resources?”

Chen Jian asked at once.

“Yes, I can reach them right now.”

“Moreover, I can mobilize the Ring Chamber of Commerce to prioritize weapon supplies for the mercenaries.”

“The arms currently stockpiled in Wuxue are sufficient to equip a force of over one hundred mercenaries.”

“While that may not be enough against a Tier‑Three monster, taking on Tier‑Four beasts should pose no serious strain.”

“After all, their casualty ratio isn’t something we need to worry about, right?”

".That may be so."

Chen Jian, lost in thought, nodded, then struck the table and said:

"Then let's proceed this way for now!"

"Execute immediately today; first, send the mercenaries to the summit."

"If the mercenaries cannot hold, once the aircraft emerges, we will rush to aid Hanhui at once."

"Take heed: this support must be weighed carefully in our hearts and planned meticulously."

"Hanhui City’s current state is delicate; if we strike well, it may become the first city to change its hue."

"This bears great significance for us!"

"Understood."

"Received."

The crowd responded in chorus, while Chen Jian waved his hand and dismissed the meeting. The support plan for Hanhui City was set; now we must see how long they can endure.

Meanwhile, as the core of the Huaxia army debated more "macro" strategies, in a newly cleared makeshift factory beyond the fortifications, Ji Xing was obsessively clutching the tiniest of details.

"I've already told you, when you stack, you must alternate the fibers horizontally and vertically; this is the crucial step to ensure the plywood's strength!"

"Look at the plywood you've stacked—how many layers have the fiber direction wrong?"

"Do you think this is a trivial matter?? These sheets are meant for building aircraft!"

"If the aircraft cannot lift because of material weakness, tell me—can you bear that responsibility??"

The worker opposite her bowed his head, silent, yet a flash of discontent crossed his eyes.

He knew what he was doing, but could not grasp the purpose behind it.

Stacking sliced timber together, then gluing it?

If the end goal is to make boards, why not cut the timber directly into planks?

Moreover, using wood to craft an aircraft?

He knew what an aircraft was; he had even witnessed that massive, angelic machine rise from the ground and then soar away.

Yet he could not accept that such a terrifying, sacred, awe‑inspiring angel could be fashioned from wood.

Perhaps it is merely an excuse.

An excuse to erode his own faith and that of his compatriots.

As if they were seating their own people upon the machine they call a "excavator."

It appears to grant a chance to commune with the creations of the Holy Trinity, yet in truth it is another form of desecration.

——

These people are merely mortals!

What right do mortals have to tower above the machine spirit? To strip the spirit of its dominion over metal? And what audacity lets them brazenly claim they are the true masters of machinery?

A flicker of revulsion rose within him.

Were it not for his own safety, were it not for a morsel of food, he would have fled to the true Jinling City long ago.

——

No, Jinling City has already been tainted.

Even the saints have been replaced under their control; perhaps the only way to find the last pure land of the Holy Trinity is to seek the legendary "Mountain City."

At this thought, the worker drew a deep breath.

Then he spoke:

"Understood, Commander."

"I will be meticulous; such mistakes shall not recur."

"Better that they never happen again!"

Ji Xing's tone turned fierce; the worker bowed his head again, silent.

"Continue working!"

"If I find another substandard product, each of you loses one ration ticket today!"

"Yes."

"Yes, Commander."

The workers answered in turn; Ji Xing shook her head, gesturing for everyone to resume their tasks.

At that moment, Chen Jian, having concluded the meeting, happened upon the factory; noticing Ji Xing’s expression, he approached with curiosity and asked:

"How is the progress?"

Ji Xing shook her head and replied:

"There are some issues."

"These workers can obey orders, yet they cannot execute them fully."

"It seems there is a slab of steel lodged in their minds."

"Instinctively they question the very task at hand, leaving no initiative in their work."

"Mistakes abound, that is all I can say."

"I do not know how to resolve this; if there is truly no remedy, I may have to make an example of one to warn many."

"I understand."

A helpless smile flickered across Chen Jian’s face.

In truth, he was quite familiar with such circumstances.

When he once led fresh recruits, he had witnessed the same; two soldiers of equal aptitude and intellect—one naturally resistant to training, the other fully devoted—produced results worlds apart.

Often, it is not a matter of ability.

It is a matter of consciousness.

It is natural that Ji Xing cannot solve it; the very fact she discerned the problem’s essence so swiftly already marks her as exceptional.

With that in mind, Chen Jian spoke reassuringly:

"Fear not, this problem is easily solved."

"They simply lack belief in their own capability."

"What they are doing not only overturns their religious perception, but also shatters their judgment of their own abilities and worth."

"Thus, resistance is natural."

"Our task is simple—just present the results before them."

"Lei Jie! Come here! Bring a W‑4 Skyhawk."

"Immediately."

From the headphones came Lei Jie’s voice; a moment later, he hurried to Chen Jian’s side and asked:

“What’s wrong?”

“Do something you’re best at—take apart a drone for them to see.”

Lei Jie glanced at Chen Jian, then at the workers laboring.

In an instant he grasped Chen Jian’s intention.

Without a word of hesitation, Lei Jie sprang into action, first piloting the rather mediocre, scarcely used single‑man hand‑thrown drone around the roofless factory, then, after drawing everyone’s attention, he dismantled the drone before their eyes until it was a wreck.

The crowd watched his movements with open eyes; when every component of the W‑4 drone lay scattered, the workers’ faces, in an almost tacit understanding, wore an expression of bewilderment.

Lei Jie said no more, but waved his hand and addressed the still‑stupefied onlookers:

“Come and have a look.”

“See what this thing is made of.”

“What you are building now is exactly this; the great aircraft you once saw was merely an upgraded version of it.”

“Now you are to construct the simplest mosquito‑type fighter.”

“But one day you will be able to forge the Attack‑17 with your own hands.”

“There is no soul in machines in this world.”

“All machines are creations of man!”

“Come, who wishes to see how this plane actually takes to the sky?”

As his words fell, the hesitant crowd surged forward, surrounding him.

The worker whom Ji Xing had singled out and rebuked lingered at the back, shrinking a little, wanting to flee, yet he could not help stretching his neck over the crowd’s barrier to watch Lei Jie’s actions.

He could not believe a plane torn apart like this could ever be restored.

Even if a machine possessed a soul, such damage should be enough to doom it, should not it?

——

Yet he was wrong.

When the drone rose again from the throng, what reached his ears was a chorus of astonished exclamations.

He stared intently at the drone aloft.

Then he turned his gaze to the wooden piece he still clutched, forgotten on his hand.

After a long silence, he suddenly seemed to understand something, and without a word he turned the wooden piece in his hand to a new direction.

(End of chapter)