Chapter 283: Where the Body Yearns

Chapter 283: Where the Body Goes

After his entanglement with the Imperial Guard, Li Jun had not accomplished a single deed worthy of imperial commendation, so he remained unaware of merit points—a fact that was entirely reasonable.

"These merit points are actually quite simple; they’re used by the court to tally our contributions."

Fan Wujiu explained: "For soldiers like us, the number of rebels slain, criminals apprehended—all carry bounties. But the prerequisite is reporting to the Ministry of War’s Yellow Millet Dream Realm, the White Tiger Hall, for verification."

He raised his right hand toward Li Jun, "I’ve heard that during the early Ming Dynasty, they used severed enemy ears for counting. We don’t need such hassle now—just use the Impermanence Register Ring."

"I know that."

Li Jun nodded; it was one of his areas of expertise.

"Typically, we call the merit points along the military line ‘Martial Merit Points,’ while those under the Ministry of Personnel are termed ‘Civil Virtue Points.’ These aren’t merely tied to our salaries, bonuses, and promotions—they also affect our household’s ranking and funding!"

"Our household last year ranked near the bottom in the ten cities of the foreign quarters due to low point totals, so our funding was slashed significantly. It nearly drove Old Ghost to despair—Young White’s hair turned completely white in one fell swoop."

Ma Wangye asked with a sly grin, "So you were chased to the household office by that girl from the Mixed Hall at the start of the year because of this?"

He had arrived at the Quanshan City Household Office alongside Li Jun, a newcomer yet already bearing the demeanor of an old hand, privy to every whispered rumor within.

The Quanshan City Household Office didn’t treat the ink-armored figure as a stranger but immediately classified him as an external staff member.

Had it not been for Gui Wang Da’s intervention, Fan Wujiu would have petitioned the Northern Camp’s Yamen for Ma Wangye to grant him a minor flag rank.

"Ma Master, where did you hear such rumors? It must’ve been that brat Xie Bi’an spreading them! How dare he speak of me? The debt he owes is his own doing!"

Fan Wujiu’s face twisted with indignation, "But I’ve heard the Civil Virtue Points under the Ministry of Personnel are far easier to obtain—if you can secure funds, the points come pouring in."

"Why go through the trouble we do, risking life and limb to seize smuggled weapons? Even our entire household can’t earn more than a thousand points, which translates to a mere hundred thousand taels in paper currency."

"Can these points also be exchanged for supplies from the court?"

Li Jun recalled Zhai Man’s words—his own sixth-grade martial arts manual had been acquired through such merit points.

"Of course. This court is like a peddler carrying a pole into every household—on one side, he bears us rootless wretches; on the other, he hoists high-ranking enterprises producing all manner of advanced artifacts."

Fan Wujiu cursed bitterly, "If the left side weeps, he plucks something from the right to soothe them. If someone on the left nears death, he spends a little silver to grant them an empty title, persuading them to sell their wares again. These days, even buried in the earth, they’re remembered—only when reduced to ash is there peace!"

Li Jun sensed the bitter resentment in his words.

It seemed that beyond dealing with foreigners, the New Donglin Party’s restraint on the Imperial Guard in the criminal quarters was considerable.

Suppressing his complex thoughts, he pressed on, "What can be exchanged?"

"That’s a long list."

Fan Wujiu counted on his fingers, "Take the military-industrial weapons of the Ministry of Works’ Shenji Arsenal, the genetic elixirs of the Agricultural Sequence’s Qi Min Groups, the mechanical prosthetics of the Ink Sequence’s Tiangong Groups, and the foundational mech-hearts of the Military Sequence’s Six Tome Groups."

At the mention of mech-hearts, Fan Wujiu grew animated, patting his chest with a crisp clang.

"This human-grade Soldier Seven mech-heart, ‘Evil Come,’ was what I earned through three years of accumulated Martial Merit Points!" Fan Wujiu beamed with pride.

"Evil Come? Dian Wei?"

Ma Wangye asked curiously, "Tell me, how many types of mech-hearts do you soldiers have? More mystifying than our ink-armors—even I’m baffled."

Fan Wujiu grinned sheepishly, "Not many—just three basic categories: human, divine, and ghost."

Li Jun interjected, recalling the mech-hearts he’d encountered, "Then Li Wu and Ju Fu belong to which type?"

"Those are ghost-class."

"What about Le Bu Tian Bing and Feng Bo?"

"Clearly divine-class fundamentals."

"Then what about all those ornate names? What distinguishes them?"

Fan Wujiu’s expression turned solemn, "A body like a mustard seed, a heart containing Mount Sumeru. Where the body goes, where the heart directs."

"Hey, I didn’t expect you to be so well-versed!" Ma Wangye chuckled.

"Hehe, I bought a crate with the Six Tomes Group’s slogan printed on it—showing off."

As they bantered, Li Jun wore a thoughtful look.

"Little Black, are you saying that whatever you aspire to become, your mech-heart evolves from the base model toward that direction?"

"No, Brother Jun. Where the body goes, where the heart directs—that determines the genes!"

Fan Wujiu spoke gravely, "A mech-heart is mech-shell and heart-core. Inside isn’t all iron—there’s flesh, the only part of a soldier’s body that cannot be stripped away. Within that flesh lies all the genes of a soldier’s humanity."

"Once implanted into a soldier’s body, the mech-heart transforms according to genetic differences. Human, divine, ghost—these are merely umbrella terms. Human-grade develops machinery, divine-grade mimics nature, ghost-grade blends flesh and spirit. To further categorize is impossible, for human genes are vast beyond measure!"

"Thus, the mech-heart’s name derives from its master or former master—the heart’s direction."

Damn, this is outright biological warfare! Even more unreasonable than Ma Wangye’s ink-armored specter.

"How does one advance in the military sequence?"

Fan Wujiu grinned, "Simple and brutal—two words: Swallow Heart. Use another’s genes as external force to awaken dormant parts of oneself or compensate for deficiencies."

Upon hearing this, Li Jun turned to glance meaningfully at Ma Wangye.

No wonder these two oddballs ended up together—they’re cut from the same cloth!

"What are you staring at? We’re not like those soldiers, Ma Master—I’m pure machinery, no need for that dogshit!"

Ma Wangye turned to Fan Wujiu, disdainful, "From now on, we brothers take separate paths in the Mixed Hall."

The latter rolled his eyes, sycophantically smiling, "That’s why I say Brother Jun and I are destined to be sworn brothers. Rumor has it the military sequence was born to mimic the martial sequence, using mechanical prosthetics to replace natural limbs for swift passage through the fragile flesh stage."

"I heard another tale in the military’s Yellow Millet Dream Realm—that at high sequences, the heart-meat nurtured within the mech-heart feeds back into the body, reforming flesh and blood."

Only then did he glare at Ma Wangye, "So tell me, do you have a true bird?"

Ma Wangye scoffed coldly, "Just hearsay—can rumors be trusted?"

"You’ve ruined my resolve—I’m not done with you!"

"Enough bickering," after much idle chatter, Li Jun finally remembered his purpose, "How many martial arts injectors can the Empire provide?"

Fan Wujiu poked Ma Wangye’s lone eye, not turning around, "I’ve never paid attention—let me check when I return."

Li Jun’s face darkened; he ignored the pair of fools and strode toward his third-floor quarters.

"Brother Jun, how are the Martial Merit Points divided this time?"

Li Jun didn’t stop, "You’re the chief flag here—exercise your initiative!"

"Quick-witted indeed," Fan Wujiu abandoned Ma Wangye and chased after him, shouting, "I can’t read!"

At the same time, in the basement of the household office.

A second-rank Imperial Guard halted his actions.

Before him, the console held the crate Fan Wujiu had brought back, within which lay a blood-stained human head.

"Chief, the brain from the first-rank has been processed. The list of buyers for that batch of weapons has been extracted."

"Any suspicious individuals?"

Xie Bi’an’s figure materialized before him, his projected feet beside a round-faced, pot-bellied man snoring loudly while clutching a wine bottle.

The Imperial Guard quickly lifted his gaze, "One—he appeared in Chongqing Prefecture before, linked to the Qixia Group tragedy."

"Who?"

"Gong Qinghong."