Chapter 367: Prepare to Attack

Chapter 367 – Preparing to Attack

A bubble?

Lei Jie froze for a heartbeat.

“What kind of bubble?”

He asked.

“I don’t know.”

Fang Quan shook his head.

“The existing records are vague; all I know is that it seemed to be a mirrored sphere.”

“It existed for only an instant, never even observed, and then it shattered abruptly.”

“Only a handful saw it, and now none of them remain.”

“Understood.”

Lei Jie nodded, then asked:

“What about the video? Did the recording equipment capture anything?”

“None.”

Fang Quan shook his head again.

“The moment it appeared, the entire headquarters lost power.”

“It seemed to possess an extremely strong electromagnetic property, destroying every power‑related device in the vicinity.”

“Just repairing the equipment took nearly two years.”

“After the repairs, many leaders tried to restart the experiment, but all failed.”

“Even now we have not been able to reactivate the Ring.”

As he spoke, Fang Quan led Lei Jie forward.

Down the stairwell to the bottom of the deep shaft, Lei Jie finally saw the legendary Ring apparatus.

His first reaction was that the thing was tiny—so tiny it didn’t even fill a thousand square meters of underground space.

His second reaction was that its complexity was far, far lower than the so‑called “Ring” he had seen in Project 016.

It lacked the elaborate measuring instruments, and the massive vibration‑isolation hardware was unnecessary.

Because it was built directly on the vibration‑isolated platform beneath the neutrino laboratory.

The most intricate part of the whole device was merely the central annular conduit.

“Where does the Ring originate?”

Lei Jie asked.

“At the very centre of the conduit, what they call the ‘generation well.’”

“Generation pit? What the hell is that?”

Lei Jie furrowed his brow.

“So you’re saying this thing is actually forging a time crystal?”

“We don’t know.”

Fang Quan shook his head and continued:

“Honestly, we don’t even know what you call a ‘time crystal.’”

“We are trying to inherit the knowledge of the Ring’s true master, but what they left behind is too obscure, too profound.”

“Our ancestors once sought guidance from them, hoping for instruction; they did give us some knowledge.”

“But the way they gave it was… like opening the doors of a treasure vault before us without telling us which items are the real gems.”

“For a long stretch we had to grope our way through those incomprehensible phrases.”

“After they left, the situation worsened.”

“Coupled with several catastrophes, the knowledge we barely passed down is almost extinct.”

“We can only barely keep the Ring Guild alive—so far the knowledge we have recovered from the Ring’s master is less than a tenth of what it should be.”

“Perhaps even less than one percent.”

Reasonable.

After hearing Fang Quan’s account, Lei Jie finally grasped the origin of the Ring Guild.

They were not the original “researchers”; they were likely a band of wanderers struggling to survive on the wasteland.

They found the Ring, they found those scholars who still preserved knowledge, and they hoped to draw hope from them.

Unfortunately, those scholars were too closed off, perhaps too arrogant.

They believed the Ring could solve everything in one stroke, never considering that if they failed, the whole of human civilization might plunge into an irreparable rupture.

That, most likely, is one of the reasons knowledge transmission in the wasteland world has been severed.

In short, they treated the apocalypse as a problem solvable by cutting‑edge technology and theory, ignoring the need to mobilize the masses.

What is that called?

The “quick‑victory” doctrine kills people!

Lei Jie sighed, then said:

“Open the device.”

“At least let me see how it actually operates.”

“No problem.”

Fang Quan moved to the console beside him; as he stepped, the lights gradually brightened.

The entire underground shaft was fully illuminated, and only then did Lei Jie realize that the laboratory once used for neutrino detection had undergone a comprehensive overhaul.

It had been transformed into a facility built solely to accommodate this apparatus—an engineering effort of staggering magnitude.

One can infer that the number of researchers and scholars gathered here at the time could not have been small.

Where have they all gone?

That, too, remains a question.

Lei Jie’s thoughts were in disarray, while Fang Quan finished unlocking the console.

“The last time this device was activated was four years ago,” he said.

“We do not understand this device, nor do we know how to repair it.”

But according to the surviving records, if we start this device on schedule, it will age more slowly.

Yet even so, when we activated this device four years ago, we ran into many difficulties.

Hope today. We can be a little luckier.

Speaking thus, Fang Quan pressed the start button.

A massive hum rose, and Lei Jie realized that the first component to awaken was the seismic isolation module.

Soon after, the fans and cooling system whirred to life, channeling power into the colossal capacitor module, which began to store energy; the apparatus was on the brink of full operation.

"Our luck is splendid!"

Fang Quan, a hint of excitement in his voice, shouted:

"A single success!"

"Perhaps this time we can recreate that bubble!"

Lei Jie gave no reply, his gaze fixed rigidly on the generation trap.

He did not know what transformation might occur there.

But he knew that if a change unfolded there, the entire future of humanity would shift in that very instant.

A slightly uncanny, rippling distortion shimmered in the air.

Lei Jie almost believed that the ringed device was about to start smoothly.

——

But the next second.

"Hum—"

A sharp noise rang out.

The energy within the capacitor was fully discharged, and the device ceased its motion.

In the cavernous shaft below, only the buzzing of the still‑spinning fans remained.

"It failed."

"We’re sorry, this time we gained nothing."

Fang Quan looked at Lei Jie with regret, and continued:

"I had thought this time would bring greater fortune, but."

"No."

Lei Jie shook his head, saying:

"It’s not entirely without gain."

"At least we now know where that strange metal originated."

As the words fell, Fang Quan’s eyes instantly brightened.

"Where did it come from??"

Lei Jie exhaled softly, replying:

"That is not a prerequisite for activating the ring."

"It is a by‑product of the ring’s ignition."

"This device indeed influences this world at a microscopic level."

"It may, at some instant, alter the fundamental forces within matter."

Elsewhere, in the Mountain City. Under He Shuo’s command, the “Synthesis Squad” cleared the surrounding monsters and, after several bombardments, drove the last two tier‑one beasts westward into the hills, leaving the city’s gates yawning wide.

A passage was being forged, accompanied by a steady stream of equipment and personnel, as well as curious merchants, and

pilgrimage‑bound civilians.

In any age, faith remains the most potent engine of motion.

Even knowing the journey was perilous, even ignorant of the city’s true visage, the fervent followers of the Mechanical God surged forward.

They hacked through thorns and brambles, forging a rough road where none existed.

Where no road lay, they forced a path with their own hands.

Some among them fell on the way, pleading for aid from the expeditionary forces also bound for the city.

Yet He Shuo had long before issued orders to Li Xian, and the dispatcher Li Xian in turn commanded the expedition’s troops.

They ignored every pilgrim’s plea, allowing them to gasp their last breaths upon the rugged trail.

Their corpses became markers, yet also deterred many whose resolve was not as firm.

In the end, only a few dozen civilians actually reached the Mountain City.

But even those few caused considerable trouble for the Huaxia troops stationed there.

——

The destruction of the clay statues was not something everyone, like Guo Xu and his companions, could accept so readily.

They regarded the Huaxia army as blasphemers, as destroyers, and the once‑revered title “Supreme Saint 81” had become a symbol of evil.

Harassment and insults occurred daily; many clerics spent their days brandishing incense burners, hurling curses at the Huaxia army’s makeshift command post.

Of course, such curses were meaningless.

The smoke from the burners was even less dense than the vapor rising from the city’s underground.

Yet Chen Jian found it truly vexing.

On the other hand, Ji Xing seemed oddly satisfied with the scene.

Standing outside the command post, Chen Jian watched Ji Xing’s half‑smile and, unable to contain his curiosity, asked:

"So, what exactly do you find amusing?"

"Isn’t this irritating? Where’s the fun in it?"

Ji Xing cleared his throat, turned toward Chen Jian, and replied:

"Commander, haven’t you noticed?"

"That’s also part of Chief He Shuo’s plan."

"How so?"

Chen Jian asked curiously:

"You saw it, didn’t you?"

"Of course—I may not be as clever as you, but I understand the fanatics of this world better than you do."

A faint smugness flickered across Ji Xing’s face, and he continued:

"We could have forged a far smoother road, you know."

"Or we could simply share the supply routes with these pilgrim

But we didn't do that.

And the purpose is actually quite simple: selection.

We filter out those believers whose faith isn't steadfast enough; those who remain, who truly reach this point, are the most resolute, the core disciples.

Their influence often far exceeds that of ordinary followers.

If we can harness them, dismantling the Mechanical Cult becomes far easier.

They're merely causing a ruckus now; once Commander He Shuo turns his hand, they'll be dealt with sooner or later.

Tsk tsk.

Chen Jian shook his head at the words.

A conspirator—truly terrifying.

Could this also be a meticulously crafted plan?

That couldn't be.

Ji Xing shook his head and said:

Perhaps Commander He Shuo just did it on a whim.

Chen Jian sighed.

I see, perhaps that's talent.

He truly is suited for this.

As he spoke, Chen Jian turned and walked toward the command post.

Alright, the idle chatter ends here.

Time to attend to real business.

As he spoke, Chen Jian activated the large screen.

Fuxi was already online, and the screen displayed a simple simulation program.

We need to deliver a virus into the mountain city.

You should understand what a virus means, right?

Ji Xing gave a slight nod and replied:

I roughly get it—like throwing a stone into a running machine.

That’s about right.

Chen Jian's fingers swiped across his PDA, then he continued:

Our task is simple: using something akin to a resonant virus, we will physically destroy the core computing hub of the mountain city.

We have three objectives.

First, decode the brain‑machine control system.

Second, infiltrate the communication channel.

Third, plant the virus into the mountain city's computing center via that channel.

The procedure isn’t complex, but it demands prolonged, meticulous operation.

In the next negotiation, we must hold Lin Yu—or rather, the Lingxi behind him—for at least six hours.

We must ensure he stays in contact with the isolated computing module for six hours, without Lingxi interrupting.

But now, the problem arises.

At this point, Chen Jian paused briefly.

He looked at Ji Xing and asked:

If you send a representative to the enemy camp to negotiate with their leader, and he hasn't returned by the appointed time, what will you do?

—cut off all contact with him.

Exactly!

Chen Jian nodded approvingly and went on.

By our estimate, Lingxi will grant us at most two hours of negotiation.

That amount of time is wholly insufficient for decoding.

Because Lingxi's computational power dwarfs ours.

Even a single isolated block approaches the total computing power we possess.

Therefore, we must create more time for Fuxi.

We need Lingxi to believe that a six‑hour negotiation is entirely reasonable.

Thus, following that line of thought, we must forge a relatively closed environment.

That closed environment cannot be under our control.

We need—you—to enter that environment.

As the words fell, Ji Xing's eyes shifted slightly.

You want me, as the envoy, to enter the real mountain city and negotiate with Lingxi?

Exactly.

Chen Jian nodded emphatically.

I have no other choice.

Li Shi is too simple‑minded; he can't bear such responsibility.

And I, my body cannot withstand the trauma of brain‑machine integration.

You are the best candidate.

We will pre‑embed a back‑end in the system to relay the signal to Fuxi.

Thus, using you as a relay, we can truly access the mountain city.

What do you think?

Will you accept?

Ji Xing drew a deep breath.

Then, she solemnly nodded and said:

If you need me, I will never shy away!

(End of chapter)