Chapter 347: Android

Chapter 347: The Artificial Man

On the ground.

The first wave of impact had ended, smoke hung heavy, and the air was thick with the metallic stench of blood.

It was a grueling battle, hard on both sides.

Chen Jian had emptied two magazines of his grenade launcher, yet even so he had only slain three of the mountain‑city fighters.

That number, against their force of over fifty, was almost negligible, but Chen Jian had no better recourse.

Even with the aid of an intelligent fire‑control system, most of the time he could not keep pace with the enemy.

They were simply too fast.

Tall buildings were not obstacles to them, but usable cover.

Each time Chen Jian locked onto them, they reacted instantly, shifting their trajectory and forcing him to pull his aim back.

Chen Jian was always a step behind—until, at last, he realized that the enemy’s pre‑emptive judgments were not based on any so‑called “visual cues,” but merely on the radar pulses emitted by his own exoskeleton’s fire‑control system.

He decisively shut down the smart fire‑control, finally smoothing out the gap of only a few dozen milliseconds that had felt like an insurmountable chasm.

Yet even so, the fight remained excruciatingly hard.

Those mountain‑city combatants also wielded a sizable arsenal of kinetic weapons, their suppressive fire far beyond what this thin squad could endure.

Within just thirty seconds of the clash, three of our own squad members had already fallen.

The formation teetered on the brink of collapse; had it not been for the two remaining Puff‑fish drones overhead and the fire support from Ji Xing and Li Shi perched aloft, the convoy would never have reached the designated tunnel.

Standing before a wounded comrade whose breath had ceased, Chen Jian stifled his own pounding heart and turned to Lei Jie, saying:

“We cannot advance like this.”

“Casualties are too great, the pace too sluggish.”

“Their resolve is ironclad; I suspect they intend to turn this into a decisive battle.”

“The inevitable nuclear boon cannot last forever.”

“These mountain‑city fighters are ready to die for it; even if we drop a nuclear bomb now, they’ll surge forward through the searing radiation.”

“We must devise another plan—perhaps we should give them a clean sweep first?”

“If we weren’t shackled by equipment, we could hold our own.”

“They’re swift, but their tactical coordination is abysmal.”

“In narrow terrain, two heavy machine guns can pin them down mercilessly.”

“The problem is, they’re not stupid.”

Lei Jie shook his head, cutting Chen Jian off, then continued:

“Their purpose is clear—they’re after the equipment.”

“If we abandon the gear, they would never risk an assault.”

“It’s an unsolvable vicious cycle.”

“If we hold the departure point, they have no way to take us.”

“But the moment we leave cover on our own, the balance shatters instantly.”

“This balance—”

“Wait.”

Chen Jian suddenly raised his hand.

In a vague instant, he felt as though he had grasped something.

Balance.

The most crucial issue is balance.

But why, Hua—

—the Military District’s squad of fewer than twenty could match the entire armed force of the mountain city?

I had always thought it was the deterrence of the nuclear bomb.

But upon closer thought, it seemed not so simple.

Could it be that the living forces they could mobilize, immune to electromagnetic pulse, were truly scarce?

Could it be—that this city truly harbored so few living souls?

Yes.

From the moment we entered the mountain city, their “resistance” was exceedingly limited, almost restrained.

The clashes were confined to a tiny arena; even in the largest assault, unmanned units held sway.

And in that encounter, the blast of a small tactical nuclear warhead utterly shattered their counter‑offensive.

They could have decisively cut us off before our support arrived.

Yet they did not.

Why?

Chen Jian could think of only one reason.

Living forces are too precious to them; unless absolutely forced, they would rather maintain a stalemate than risk losing the few they have left. It must be so.

Chen Jian exhaled a long breath and turned his gaze to Lei Jie.

He was about to voice his assessment and redraw the ensuing battle plan.

But at that moment, a voice crackled over his radio—Ji Xing’s voice.

“Commander!”

Her tone carried a barely perceptible tremor.

“I have a major discovery.”

“I need to return immediately.”

“Please assign someone to take my position!”

Chen Jian’s eyes hardened, and he nodded at Lei Jie.

Without waiting for orders, Lei Jie hastily packed his gear and sprinted out of the tunnel serving as a makeshift shield; within less than a minute of his departure, Ji Xing burst in at a breathtaking speed.

She gusted a foul wind into Chen Jian’s face; when he fixed his eyes, he was stunned to see that in her arms—

—she was cradling something.

“Bang!”

Ji Xing flung the object onto the ground, splattering blood everywhere.

“That smell—”

Ji Xing gasped, then continued:

“This is the source of that smell.”

“Mountain City folk, those very mountain city folk!”

“Their blood reeks of that strange, uncanny flavor!”

“I just dragged a corpse back; its skeletal structure is indistinguishable from that of an ordinary human!”

“They are not Sanctified Blooded, yet their organs, their muscular tissue—absurdly robust!”

“I can be certain they are not genuine humans!”

“They are humans, but altered!”

“Much like us Sanctified Blooded, only they surpass us in sophistication!”

“Commander, there aren't many of them! Their reproductive systems have atrophied; I just cut.”

“Wait.”

Chen Jian interrupted Ji Xing's words.

He crouched, reaching to feel the severed edge beneath the skull at the neck.

There, a metallic-looking object glimmered faintly.

“Split it.”

Chen Jian issued another command:

“Lengthwise, along the line connecting the ears, split from the temples.”

Without a hint of hesitation, Ji Xing drew her long blade and swung it down in a single slash.

The blade sliced through the fragile cranium unimpeded, brain matter gushing forth. Chen Jian had intended to act himself, yet Ji Xing seemed to grasp his intent; before he could move, she seized the skull and hollowed it out entirely.

“There’s something.”

Ji Xing's motion faltered for a heartbeat.

Then, with a sudden surge, she yanked.

An object detached from the skull.

She lifted her hand, laying it open before Chen Jian.

Chen Jian saw clearly the thing stained with brain fluid, blood, and bone fragments, and let out a long sigh of relief.

Then, he spoke:

“Chip.”

“It is the most archetypal invasive brain‑machine chip.”

“It seems I was mistaken.”

“In Mountain City, it's not that few remain; there isn't a single normal person left at all.”

“You're right—this damn thing is no ordinary human.”

“It could very well be... a true artificial human!”

(End of Chapter)