Chapter 372: Comprehensive Reception

Chapter 372: Full Reception

In a shroud of darkness, Lin Yu opened his eyes.

He looked around in bewilderment, and the very instant the surrounding scene fell into view, he suddenly sensed that something was amiss.

He was not in the virtual city of Mountain Town.

The space he occupied

was reality.

Lin Yu sat up, the genuine fatigue that washed over his body felt much like the weariness he had known in the virtual city, yet upon closer feeling he discerned subtle differences.

Where was this place?

It seemed to be a tent?

Lin Yu stared wide-eyed in confusion, and at that moment someone pulled back the tent’s curtain and stepped inside.

“You’re awake?”

The person spoke.

A helmet and visor completely concealed his face, but by the voice Lin Yu instantly recognized who it was.

“Chen Jian. Commander Chen!”

Instinctively he rose, and when he lowered his head he saw his true body.

I have already arrived beyond Mountain Town.

But is this a temporary escape, or permanent freedom?

He looked at Commander Chen with eager anticipation, and the latter seemed to read his expression, nodding without hesitation:

“Just as you thought, you have left that virtual city.”

“We have wiped all the data of the virtual city—no, it’s not wiping, it’s sealing.”

“That city no longer exists.”

“However, we have preserved for you a relatively small yet sufficient compute space, to ensure you can continue living in the form of a ‘human.’”

With those words, Lin Yu’s eyes widened.

He inhaled deeply, feeling the air travel through his nasal passages into his trachea, then fill his lungs with a tangible reality.

Tentatively, he extended his hand and waved it before his eyes, then asked:

“So… I’ve become a normal person again?”

“Not quite.”

Chen Jian spread his hands.

“It would be better to say you cannot be defined as a true human.”

“Because of algorithmic limits, Lingxi can never fully emulate every human behavior.”

“The most typical problem is that you possess a subconscious, yet you cannot dream.”

“Of course, there are even simpler ways to verify.”

“You hardly ever err, and you will not suffer from perceptual disorders.”

“In short, you are now… a half‑human.”

Half‑human?

Lin Yu was momentarily stunned, then a sense of relief washed over him.

At least it was far better than being trapped forever in that virtual city.

At least his present sensations were real.

He nodded, and opposite him Commander Chen spoke:

“You must learn to adapt to this body yourself.”

“By the way, I had Fuxi embed a signal indicator into your perception system.”

“If the signal weakens, turn back promptly; do not venture into places without signal.”

“Otherwise we’d have to come rescue you——we don’t have that many spare bodies to give you.”

“Understood.”

Lin Yu first nodded, but then asked with puzzlement:

“What about those bodies?”

“In Mountain Town there should have been more than just a few artificial bodies, right?”

“They have all been interred.”

Chen answered:

“They should not have lived that way.”

“—Understood.”

Lin Yu nodded again.

At that moment, a sudden relaxation settled in his heart.

Yes.

Those bodies without consciousness should not exist in such a manner.

He watched Commander Chen walk out of the tent, then rose and stepped outside himself.

Only then did he notice that the mist that had shrouded Mountain Town had completely vanished.

The sky was clear, sunlight streamed down from above, making the whole city sparkle as if freshly washed in water.

Lin Yu gazed mesmerized at everything before him, and for an instant he even wondered whether he had truly left that virtual city, or was still living within the dream woven for him by Lin Xi.

At that very moment, he felt someone approach from behind.

“Awake?”

A familiar voice called out.

Lin Yu turned his head and saw the newcomer was Ji Xing.

“You’re here?”

His gaze swept over the bandages on Ji Xing’s shoulders and neck, and, slightly puzzled, he asked:

“Are you injured?”

Ji Xing shook his head and replied:

“No.”

“It’s a side effect of the brain‑machine interface.”

“I’m using a previous‑generation neural implant; it required an open wound along the entire spine.”

“This contraption… it’s a fairly serious wound, with a risk of infection.”

“So that’s that.”

Ji Xing shrugged his shoulders and continued:

“Still, it’s not all bad—according to the commander, it’s like I’ve been given two days off.”

“Off?”

Lin Yu had no notion of such a thing.

In fact, it wasn’t just him; the entire wasteland knew nothing of it.

Surviving was hard enough; a single day without work could mean starvation or death by monsters—vacation?

Yet he could roughly grasp Ji Xing’s meaning.

It was simply rest.

With that thought, he didn’t wait for Ji Xing’s reply and pressed on:

“You’re on leave. What about the others?”

“What do they need to do?”

“A lot.”

Ji Xing pointed toward the distant tunnel leading underground, his tone calm:

“This whole underground city is far larger than we imagined.”

“Both in scale and in function.”

“Accomplishing the reception in a short time is no easy feat— and that’s only the physical infrastructure side.”

“In truth, the greatest difficulty lies in receiving the data.”

“Now Fuxi has taken over the computing power, yet many critical data sets remain sealed independently.”

“It will take time to decipher them.”

“Perhaps days, perhaps weeks?”

“Nothing is certain.”

“.I don’t understand.”

Lin Yu shook his head honestly, then asked:

“So let’s be direct—what change will this mountain city bring to humanity?”

“A great change.”

Ji Xing exhaled slowly, then added:

“The city has become an industrial behemoth with a complete manufacturing system.”

“According to the commander, according to Fuxi’s calculations, with ample resources this place could produce industrial goods enough to satisfy the needs of the entire world.”

“After all, our current population is only about a million.”

“This will become the true center of the world.”

“And all of us will witness its rise.”

“Understood.”

Lin Yu let out a heavy breath.

He looked toward the distant outskirts, where a road that seemed newly carved stretched into the horizon.

And like ants, crowds of people were “crawling” along that road toward the city.

They, too, would be witnesses. Yet between witnesses, perhaps there are differences.

On the other side, within Jinling City.

The archbishop, acting in the saint’s stead, sat inside the remodeled cathedral, a report freshly delivered by the aide of the likewise “acting” commander of the imperial guard in his hand.

His brows knit tightly, but when he read the final line of the report, a hint of relieved looseness softened his face.

“The Huaxia army has completely seized the mountain city; the Holy City no longer exists.”

The sentence struck like a heavy hammer, yet also like a cold splash of water poured over his head.

A holy city that had stood for three centuries, destroyed in an instant?

Everything happened so fast, so fast that he was utterly at a loss for how to respond.

“How did they manage it?”

The archbishop asked.

The aide across the room hesitated briefly, then answered:

“According to the report, they first razed the above‑ground part of the Holy City, slaying the tier‑one monsters surrounding it.”

“Then, using special means, they destroyed the city’s Machine Soul.”

“They used their own Machine Soul to seize the massive machinery of the Holy City, becoming the city’s new master.”

“New master?”

The archbishop’s face showed a flicker of disbelief.

He stared intently at the aide, shocked by the phrasing he had just heard.

New master—

It seemed to assume that the Huaxia army now controlled the Holy City.

And that, without doubt, was a grave sacrilege.

A year ago, no one could have been foolish enough to utter such words.

Even if someone could truly take over, they would at most be regarded as a “proxy” of the Sacred Trinity’s grace.

Now, his own aide had spoken the word “master” effortlessly, without burden.

What a profound disrespect.

For a moment the archbishop wondered if he was simply too sensitive.

But he quickly realized that when the word “too sensitive” surfaces in his mind, it means many things have indeed shifted.

With that thought, he sighed deeply.

The aide on the other side seemed ready to say more, but the archbishop waved him off weakly and said:

“It’s fine.”

“It no longer matters.”

The archbishop rose and walked toward the cathedral’s exit.

Standing on the plaza that had once been shattered and now rebuilt, he looked down and beheld a scene unchanged from before, perhaps even more prosperous.

Merchants traversed the waterways, residents toiled in fields and waters far from the main district, or worked in workshops and markets at their own trades.

Vitality lies concealed in the bloodline of this age‑old city, and it grows ever stronger.

Yet not long ago, this city still lingered in the shadow of monsters, facing a peril that could annihilate it at any moment.

Indeed.

It was the Huaxia army that truly resolved that crisis.

They cleared the beast tide, battling in bloodied ranks with all the brave Imperial Guard, Holy Legion, and Guard of the Faith.

In this regard, the Archbishop never harbored any doubt of them, nor, one might say, any disrespect.

He merely thought they might be overly aggressive.

Or perhaps, overly… “conceited”?

The faith of the Mechanical Church seemed to the Archbishop to be of no consequence before them, as if it were something that could be trampled underfoot at will.

After all, it was all that the Mechanical Church possessed.

The Archbishop could not help but sigh once more.

Then he turned to the assistant at his side and asked:

“Guo Xu and his companions—have you made contact with them?”

“Contact has been made.”

The assistant nodded and replied:

“But they are unlikely to return to Jinling in the near future.”

“They have taken over the Guard of the Faith that was marching from nearby towns to the mountain city, and are now cooperating with the Huaxia army to cleanse the surrounding monsters.”

“The cleanup will not conclude in the short term.”

“They should…”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

The Archbishop cut the assistant off and continued:

“I mean, what exactly are they thinking?”

“Do they still remain loyal to the Church?”

The assistant paused, then answered:

“By all accounts, their loyalty remains unshakable.”

“Unlike Jinzhong, they have not fully thrown themselves behind the Huaxia army.”

“The two sides are merely cooperating, not merging.”

“I have even spoken at length with Guo Xu; he believes our Church indeed has room for improvement.”

“But that does not amount to a denial of our faith in the Holy Trinity.”

“They are certain they will return to Jinling; as Guo Xu puts it, he ‘will bring a brand‑new Guard of the Faith back to the side of the Holy Trinity.’”

“Understood.”

At last, the Archbishop exhaled a sigh of relief.

He closed his eyes, pondered briefly, then spoke:

“If that is so, then only one problem remains for us.”

“It is the fall of the Holy City.”

“News will soon reach Jinling—indeed, the rumors have already begun to spread.”

“Merchants have brought forth a flood of information that ought not to circulate; some bold believers have even joined the caravans, intent on pilgrimage to the Holy City.”

“Yet this is far from a good omen.”

“Should our faithful discover that the Holy City is not as they imagined, the very foundations of our belief may be shaken.”

With those words spoken, the assistant opposite furrowed his brow instantly.

Indeed, this is a problem pressed to the extreme of reality.

The outcome of the Holy City’s fall cannot be altered, yet if this news is allowed to spread—

no one can guarantee whether the Mechanical Church’s faith will endure.

“What must we do?”

The assistant asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice:

“Should we swiftly seal off the news?”

“No.”

The Archbishop shook his head.

“Censoring the news is futile; such information will leak sooner or later, reaching every ear.”

“But we lack the power to wrest the Holy City from the Huaxia army.”

“Therefore, we must correct one point.”

“The Holy City has not fallen; it has been reclaimed.”

His words hanging in the air, the assistant stood frozen.

The Archbishop pressed on:

“For ages, the Holy City was held by heretical, mechanized souls.”

“They monopolized its radiance, rendering even the most devout unable to draw near.”

“Now, the Huaxia army has vanquished the heretics and reclaimed the city.”

“Though they are not followers of the Holy Trinity, their deeds are nonetheless worthy of its commendation.”

“Thus, we have not lost the Holy City.”

“We merely lack the means to retrieve it for the time being.”

“Any faithful who wishes to pilgrimage to the Holy City shall face no obstruction from us.”

“Yet all must understand that that city is our promised land.”

“It belongs to no one but the adherents of the Holy Trinity.”

“Understood!”

The assistant gave a brief reply, then bowed and stepped aside.

The Archbishop remained where he stood.

He gazed silently at the Jinling below.

At that moment, the sun was already sinking westward.

He sensed faintly that the instant the Holy City was ‘reclaimed from the heretics,’ something seemed to sink along with the setting sun, slowly descending.

(End of chapter)