Chapter 615: Unexpected Gains

Chapter 615: Unexpected Gains

In a pure white space, twelve phantom figures sat before a circular conference table.

They were draped in immaculate white robes, upon which milky light shone, exuding a sacred aura.

Looking closely, there were actually thirteen chairs at the table, but one was empty.

This was the Sanctum of the Torch Church.

Simply put, it was where the Forerunners of the Sanctuary held their meetings.

At the center of the circular conference table stood an old man in gray robes.

His face was lined with wrinkles, his eyes murky; both his lackluster skin and his robe seemed out of place in this holy meeting room.

His name was Alzu, and he had just returned from Jinhe City.

Facing the Forerunners seated at the table, his expression was devout, his tone solemn, as he recounted events like a prayer during worship.

"The Jinhe City diocese has fallen; we have lost contact with the old forces in Singularity City."

"In the resistance, they fought bravely to the end, but our enemies did not spare them. They cut off their heads, burned them to charcoal, and their corpses filled the underground transportation network of Jinhe City..."

As the voice reached the end, it carried a note of grief.

As his words fell, even the expressionless Forerunners seated around him could not help but stir slightly.

They exchanged glances, whispered lip movements, and conveyed their surprise and unease through eyes and expressions.

"What barbarism!"

"...Not even one was left."

That settlement, which once sheltered tens of thousands of survivors, had come to an end in such a manner, truly lamentable.

Those residents were the 'pioneers' who embraced evolution; though they chose a different path from the Forerunners present, they were progressives who bravely took the first step.

Yet those ignorant barbarians burned it all to ashes!

A dignified-looking Forerunner slowly clenched his fist and said with a serious expression.

"We will continue forward carrying their memory; those who obstruct us will eventually pay the price!"

The other Forerunners slowly nodded.

"The Academy and the Corporation, those scoundrels..."

"And the Alliance."

"Not just them."

Seeing the anger on the faces of the Forerunners, Alzu slowly spoke, directing his attack at Luo Qian—the Forerunner who had defected.

"The threats we face come not only from outside but also from within ourselves. That fellow Luo Qian, his slackness and hesitation cost us the best opportunity, and we lost a great number of excellent Apostles and Executioners, paying a heavy price."

"This is our worst defeat in twenty years, and an unprecedented betrayal! If not for that traitor, none of this would be so bad!"

The Forerunners seated at the table stared at him expressionlessly, including the man at the head.

Alzu did not stop; he continued to speak the words he had long prepared.

"The current model has many flaws. Forerunners can ensure the faith of Apostles remains unshaken, but no one can guarantee that the faith of Forerunners themselves will not be the first to waver—"

Before his words could finish, a Forerunner interrupted him.

"Nonsense! How could our faith ever waver!"

Another Forerunner spoke with a serious expression.

"Our minds have merged with the Sanctuary; our thoughts surpass all things. You should be clear about how the Sanctuary operates."

Alzu looked at him expressionlessly.

"Then how do you, Your Eminence, explain Luo Qian?"

That Forerunner's expression froze slightly.

The Forerunner sitting next to him pondered for a moment, then slowly spoke to offer an explanation.

"Luo Qian's situation is indeed puzzling... but it is not incomprehensible. He was already too old before entering the Sanctuary, and once people age, they find it hard to accept new things. We advised him to retire in comfort, but he refused to accept his aging and insisted on uploading his mind to the Sanctuary."

"I understand his aging, but his betrayal is unacceptable."

Alzu smiled faintly and continued.

"I believe this is not a matter of age. The mode of operation of this technology itself has unreliability. We have dispersed our thoughts into every individual, so our enemies cannot destroy them. However, in return, the foundation of this edifice has been broken into countless pieces. As long as they shake our roots, they can easily shake us ourselves."

He had witnessed the entire collapse of that Heaven; he knew well how that 'unkillable' being had died.

That being had split himself into countless parts, distributed them to countless people, making each person his eyes, the cells that composed him.

The Alliance indeed lacked the power to kill him, who was never on the ground, but they had the power to influence 'every him'.

When every cell of his body began to waver, that seemingly exquisitely structured edifice suffered a systemic collapse.

In the end, not to mention seducing others—

Even that being himself began to doubt the correctness of Heaven.

And that was the most fatal!

The Sanctuary can influence every believer, but believers in turn influence the Sanctuary, after all, the Sanctuary, which does not exist on earth, is originally composed of them.

It was for this reason that Alzu increasingly believed in his own view—the Sanctuary was an unreliable existence.

The Heaven conceived by man must be accomplished by man, and should not be placed in hope on a Sanctuary that does not exist on earth, or on beings in the sky.

The current Forerunner model adopted by the Church has serious flaws; if these flaws are not plugged, they will suffer the next failure.

"How can they shake our roots? Those barbarians?" A Forerunner refuted his words disdainfully.

Alzu looked at him expressionlessly and said.

"They exploited the ignorance and shortsightedness of the common masses, and their complete unawareness of distant benefits and the roots of suffering."

That Forerunner stared at him intently but could not refute.

Because the Forerunner model itself is a denial of mortal wisdom; it is precisely because they recognized the unreliability of humans that they sought to completely eradicate all human attributes and become gods.

Alzu did not oppose the first half of that statement, only disagreed with the second half.

"To defeat them in the war on earth, we must turn the abstract Forerunners into concrete people existing on earth."

He was well aware that his view was heretical.

The entire Sanctum, as expected, erupted in uproar.

The Forerunners seated at the table almost without hesitation refuted him.

"Then what difference would there be between us and the Apostles?"

"We originally embarked on this path to abandon human desires and all selfishness, and you suggest we turn back?"

"You are creating weaknesses for us! What exactly is your intention?"

Facing those suspicious and angry gazes, Alzu calmly continued.

"I did not say that. I only suggest that we can establish another Sanctum, promote a group of Forerunners who do not need to abandon their flesh and embrace the Sanctuary to obtain sufficient authority, and let them manage all earthly affairs of the diocese. In this way, even if the Alliance seduces our believers, or even uses ideological viruses to destroy our Sanctuary, we will not let the failure of Jinhe City happen again."

His words had barely fallen when a pioneer refuted him.

"Nonsense! How can you guarantee the purity of the Second Sanctum?"

Alzu looked at him and continued.

"The Second Sanctum need not be as pure as the First Sanctum; it only needs to lead the faithful on earth to defeat our adversaries."

Just then, the person seated at the head of the conference table suddenly spoke.

"Let me say a few words."

When he spoke, the entire Sanctum fell silent.

His name was Wang Yi.

He was the Saint chosen by the Torch.

And the unanimous choice of everyone present.

His faith was the purest, and the most steadfast among them all.

"...In the Haiya Province, this problem does not exist. The Celestial Kingdom has reached the fourth stage and is irreversible. Our mental interference devices ensure the unity of the faithful as one body; the Second Sanctum is redundant."

Alzu said nothing.

Because this statement was indeed irrefutable.

Unless their enemies could instantly destroy all mental interference devices across the land, crack their brainwashing frequencies while replacing them with their own, it was theoretically impossible to make the already brainwashed faithful doubt the correctness of the Celestial Kingdom through simple means.

With the original consciousness erased, the Holy Domain became their sole consciousness, and evolution toward a higher life form their only ideal.

Yet in the untamed wastelands not yet incorporated into the diocese, or in those still being proselytized, the situation was different.

The utopia they preached had to compete with the filth of the earth, but those ignorant fools valued short-term gains more.

Thus, they had to disguise themselves skillfully.

Like the Nago fruit.

Before releasing spores, it first lures its prey with sweet saccharin, numbs it, and finally immerses it until it cannot extricate itself, becoming nourishment for the Celestial Kingdom.

"For the diocese of Haiya Province, we need to strengthen communication among pioneers, ensure our faith remains unwavering, and prevent any recurrence of similar incidents. There is no need to establish a Second Sanctum. However—"

Pausing, the Saint continued, uttering the words Alzu had anticipated.

"...For the untamed wastelands and the dioceses still being developed, the existence of a Second Sanctum is necessary."

"Even if we disregard that the self-degraded wastelanders are unfit for our advanced ideals, we must consider the limits of the Black Box."

"The Black Box producing our bionic chips has been running for over twenty years. It was, after all, an emergency production device, not an omnipotent wish-granting machine."

Hearing this, unease and anxiety flickered in the eyes of those seated at the table, their gazes wavering.

This was indeed a problem that could not be ignored.

Their biotechnology was formidable, but the bionic chips produced by the Black Box were irreplaceable—they were the foundation of the Holy Domain.

People would always grow old.

The chips from the Black Box would one day run out. Before the final plan was completed, their time was not truly infinite.

Though knowing no one wanted to hear it, the Saint finally spoke the words.

"Its limit is near."

...

Anything known only by its effects, not its causes, is unsustainable.

The Black Box was perhaps the most typical example.

The Praetorian Guard had found a batch of defunct Black Boxes in a warehouse at the old Singularity City site.

These Black Boxes had been used primarily to produce medicines, high-yield crop seeds, and key components for certain equipment.

Before they broke down, the residents of Singularity City had squeezed out their last bit of value, then forgotten them in the warehouse.

These defunct Black Boxes had been sent to Vault 404, now under the research of Yin Fang, head of the scientific expedition team.

Medical Bay of the Steel Heart.

After learning from Frost about the progress of Singularity City's reconstruction, Chu Guang once again visited the little girl named Yin Yin.

Perhaps out of guilt toward Singularity City, or perhaps out of sympathy for her personally, the Council had specially approved the Corporation to cover her treatment costs and promised to provide her with a bionic body capable of free movement.

She could customize her appearance, or choose to look exactly as before.

Having conveyed this news to Yin Yin, Chu Guang paused for a moment, then asked about her future plans.

"Our strategic objectives in the Jinhe River area have been achieved. The Torch has been eradicated from this land. There will be no more mutants or Nago fruits here. The focus of work in this region will now shift to the reconstruction of Singularity City."

Yin Yin, sitting in the corner of the pure white room, looked up at him blankly.

"Singularity City is..."

"A settlement that once stood on this land," Chu Guang said succinctly. "Though it carries some unpleasant past, forgetting history is betrayal. We intend to keep the name."

Yin Yin nodded, half-understanding.

Chu Guang assumed she understood and continued.

"The Steel Heart will soon return to the River Valley Province. You can choose to stay, or come back with us."

Yin Yin was silent for a moment, then asked, "Is there still a home for me here?"

Chu Guang said, "The residents of Pinecone Farm hope you'll return. Aside from the guesthouse and the basement, that estate still belongs to you."

A troubled expression crossed Yin Yin's face, and she finally asked for help.

"Can you give me some advice?"

"Unfortunately, I can't give you advice. I don't know you well enough. Perhaps you should discuss it with your family... friends," Chu Guang said, remembering that her parents had passed away, and corrected himself.

Then he recalled Frost's request and continued.

"Of course, the Corporation's representative hopes you'll stay to help calm the surviving residents' emotions... You've met her before, I believe. Her name is Frost."

Yin Yin looked at him, at a loss.

"But I've become like this... I'm afraid I can't be of much help."

Chu Guang shook his head.

"You don't need to do anything. Just be there."

Yin Yin stared at him blankly.

"Just be there means..."

Chu Guang thought for a moment, then patiently explained in terms she could understand.

"Many people, though they age, never truly mature. More than fully capable adults, they are like children without agency. They need someone to make decisions for them, to bear the risks of their own responsibilities and choices, so they can enjoy a period of stability."

Is the Nago fruit good? Who cares? The master says it's good, so plant it. Mutants devour people without spitting out bones? Ridiculous. The master, living in luxury, isn't afraid—why should you be? They only eat wastelanders, after all.

The problems of Singularity City were entirely different from those of Boulder City. This was not the fault of any single person, but the result of many factors, much like this wasteland itself.

Perhaps feeling the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, Yin Yin’s expression remained uneasy.

“But I don’t have the ability…”

Chu Guang spoke to comfort her.

“You don’t need to. You just need to stay where they can see you. Leave the rest to Frost—it has been observing us for a long time. I believe it possesses abilities I don’t fully understand.”

“…I understand.” After a long silence, Yin Yin nodded heavily and looked at him seriously. “I… I’ve decided to stay!”

Seeing the earnest expression on the child’s face, Chu Guang was slightly surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It was my father who made them like that, wasn’t it? Whether it was Little Lamb or everyone at the manor… If what you said is true, then until they are willing to step out, I will take responsibility and watch over them for a while.”

Yin Yin smiled with a hint of melancholy.

“Besides… my time has stopped anyway. This is the only thing I can do that still has some meaning.”

“…I will tell Frost about your decision. It should be very happy with your choice.” Chu Guang looked at her, nodded silently, and turned to leave the pure white space.

…

Leaving the medical bay and returning to the corridor, Chu Guang was about to head back to the captain’s quarters when Xiao Qi’s pleasant voice suddenly came from beside him.

“Master, Yin Fang has a message for you.”

It must be about the research on those black boxes.

Thinking this, Chu Guang stopped by the porthole in the corridor.

“Put him through.”

“Got it!”

As Xiao Qi’s voice faded, a pale blue holographic window appeared before him.

Seeing Chu Guang looking well, Yin Fang spoke with excitement.

“Those black boxes you gave me are very interesting! Though they’re completely broken, through those old relics, I uncovered some unrecorded history about Singularity City!”

“In the early days of the Wasteland Era, they probably used ‘synthetic nutrients’ to solve food needs—likely the precursor to nutrient paste. However, perhaps because the local climate recovered faster, the technology for synthesizing nutrient paste didn’t flourish there. Instead, it was inherited by Boulder City, eight hundred kilometers away.”

“Later, Singularity City switched to algae culture dishes, which had higher nutrient production efficiency and lower energy demands, and then to insects… All these foods share one characteristic: they aren’t very palatable to humans. Especially algae and insects—though their yield is higher than glucose or protein synthesis, the products often require secondary conversion and processing before they can be served.”

“I think this might have been their motivation for seeking mutant technology, or at least one of them. A stomach that can digest anything certainly helps improve survival odds in the wasteland, but unfortunately, the other problems that arose from this overwhelmed them.”

Compared to the spoils recovered from the Steel Heart, he was more interested in the history of Singularity City, though this time he hadn’t unearthed the coffee machine he was most curious about.

Chu Guang was interested in something else.

“Can those black boxes be repaired?”

The excitement on Yin Fang’s face instantly faded, and he shook his head with difficulty.

“Almost impossible… The difficulty in making black boxes isn’t technical; it’s the industrial conditions. They aren’t things you can fix with a wrench and screwdriver. They belong only to that era two hundred years ago.”

Chu Guang nodded.

He had expected this and wasn’t too disappointed.

“Then send them to the museum.”

“Hmm…” Perhaps feeling that he hadn’t been of much use, Yin Fang added apologetically, “But even though the black boxes can’t be fixed, the synthetic nutrient technology and algae culture techniques once used by Singularity City are still somewhat interesting. I’ll try to recover what can be recovered… If you ever plan to build a space station in the sky, these technologies will definitely come in handy.”

That kind of thing was a long way off.

Chu Guang smiled.

“I’m counting on you.”

Yin Fang grinned and scratched the back of his head.

“You’re welcome… By the way, what’s that noise on your end? Why is it so loud?”

Chu Guang glanced toward the medical bay, saw a few familiar faces, and said casually.

“Your juniors are being a bit rowdy.”

Yin Fang was taken aback, not understanding.

“My juniors?”

Chu Guang continued.

“The D-level researcher sent by the Academy to help us. A young girl.”

Earlier, Night Ten had been paralyzed from the waist up trying to pull the falling Viper transport. His good brother Ben had even planned to pull the plug on his ICU, but the girl guarded him and never gave them the chance.

Later, the girl requested to use the medical bay’s operating table and the equipment recovered by the research institute, and she also got some bionic prosthetics from the research ship. It seemed she intended to bring Night Ten back to life.

Chu Guang found it interesting and readily agreed.

Now it looked like the surgery was done?

Hearing this, Yin Fang raised an eyebrow.

“Wait, why am I the senior? I’m also a D-level! I’m not old!”

Chu Guang laughed heartily at this. Just then, he noticed a pop-up window in the lower right corner of the holographic screen and said with a smile.

“Another call coming in. Talk later.”

“See you. Get on with your work.”

Yin Fang wanted to argue further but was worried about delaying Chu Guang’s important matters, so he ended the communication.

As Chu Guang pressed the connect button again, a head of fiery red hair appeared on the other end of the holographic image.

Those spirited eyebrows twitched nervously. Seeing the suddenly connected video window, Xia Yan hurriedly stopped fiddling with her bangs, coughed, and said.

“Are you… busy?”

Looking at the nervous Xia Yan, Chu Guang couldn’t help but smile.

“Just finished. What’s up?”

She occasionally called him, and usually acted normal, but this time she seemed unusually tense.

Hearing that he wasn’t busy, Xia Yan sighed in relief, cleared her throat, and said.

“…You said last time that if I could help you build a power armor, that would be great? I don’t remember the exact words, but that was the gist! You definitely said it! So I worked on it in my spare time, and… I tried to make one.”

Chu Guang was stunned for a moment upon hearing this.

Holy shit?

Really?!

Seeing Chu Guang’s stunned expression, Xia Yan thought he didn’t believe her and quickly explained.

“It’s not that mysterious anyway. The most technically demanding part is the miniaturized cold fusion reactor… The black box from Vault 79 can produce that, right? So I used that ‘Hippo-2’ portable reactor as the power core, and modeled a heavy armor based on the power system and armor layout of the People’s Union Army’s T-10 Champion power armor… The experts at Camp 101 also helped a bit.”

"No, but after all, it was made in my spare time, so its performance in all aspects is certainly inferior to pre-war equipment, but it's still good enough for makeshift use. Take a look when you have time and see if it works; if not, just toss it in the warehouse—it doesn't matter, I didn't spend much time on it anyway—"

Snapping back to reality, Chu Guang immediately cut her off, speaking joyfully.

"Great! Thank you! This is the best news I've heard all day!"

Startled by his sudden reaction, Xia Yan paused and murmured softly.

"Really?"

Chu Guang nodded with a cheerful smile on his face.

"Do I have any reason to lie to you? But I am a bit surprised—I didn't know you had this skill!"

Embarrassed by the praise, a shy smile crept onto Xia Yan's face as she rubbed the back of her head with her right hand, still holding the welding torch.

"...What are you talking about? I've got plenty of skills—don't forget, I've always repaired my own gear."

Chu Guang chuckled.

"I know, and you've helped us fix a lot too. There's still a pile of bullets you handcrafted back then sitting in the shelter's warehouse."

"Hehe." Xia Yan's expression grew even more sheepish, her smile widening and gradually twisting out of shape.

"They're still there because they couldn't be fired."

Seeing her so smug, Chu Guang couldn't resist teasing her, but he didn't expect her reaction to be even bigger than he'd imagined.

"!! Couldn't be fired?! How could they not be fired?! Where are those bullets?"

"Just kidding, don't get worked up," Chu Guang said, watching Xia Yan's face flush with panic. He cleared his throat softly, dropped his smile, and spoke solemnly. "On behalf of Vault 404, I thank you for your research results! I'll immediately arrange for personnel to assist you with testing."

"...Don't be like that, you're making me nervous. Besides, this is just a prototype—it hasn't been tested on the battlefield yet." Xia Yan muttered under her breath, rubbing her index finger against the welding torch in her hand, suddenly regretting telling him so soon.

What was that saying again?

The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment.

Though she had learned some knowledge of the Age of Prosperity in Vault 101, she had been enrolled for less than a year.

Even if the virtual reality learning device had extended her actual study hours, and even if she had some experience with machinery, it still didn't change the fact that she was only half-skilled at best.

But Chu Guang didn't care.

Half a bottle of water was still water—the Alliance had plenty of slapdash equipment, and the players wouldn't mind one more.

Even if it couldn't compare to the "Champion" or the "Dragoon," it was still a nuclear-powered personal armor—perfect as a mobile power bank.

"A prototype is still great! The breakthrough from zero to one is harder than from one to ten. I just got a batch of nuclear fuel, so we can test your design right away. If something's off, we'll tweak it—we can afford to wait!"

Watching Xia Yan's stunned expression, Chu Guang smiled and continued.

"Speaking of which, I'm actually more surprised by your change than by the power armor itself."

Xia Yan asked nervously.

"Have I changed that much?"

Chu Guang sighed with deep emotion.

"Absolutely! Before, I had to coax you just to get you to do a little work."

Perhaps recalling the past, Xia Yan's face flushed crimson, but she quickly bared her teeth in defiance.

"You call that coaxing? No—if I didn't work, you'd throw me out... Do you hear yourself? Is that something a person says?"

Chu Guang just chuckled lightly, unfazed.

"Tit for tat. Weren't you the one imagining that I carried you back to the shelter to have babies with you?"

"Ahhh!!!"

Xia Yan's face turned as red as a lantern, her ears seeming to steam. Letting out a strange shriek, she reached out and shut off the holographic screen.

The moment she thought of that embarrassing first meeting, awkwardness crawled all over her body. She clutched her head, fingers threading through her hair, wishing she could find a crack in time on the table cluttered with tools, parts, and blueprints, and crawl back to start over.

"This guy..."

How long ago was that?!

What's the point of dwelling on it?!

But...

If he really were that kind of person.

Her fingers, buried in her hair, curled unconsciously. The fiery red color didn't change, but the awkwardness that had spread through her body turned into a tingling unease.

It felt...

A bit strange.

"Work, work..."

Realizing something was off, Xia Yan shook her head frantically, deciding to stop that weird thought and not dwell on it any further.

Meanwhile, watching the holographic screen shut off with a snap, Chu Guang scratched his cheek with his index finger, a subtle expression on his face.

"Is it a bit inappropriate to joke like that?"

He reflected a little—bringing up old grudges really wasn't a good move.

Besides, she had just lost a leg and been carried off by a bunch of unfamiliar wastelanders after being stripped of her gear—it was only natural she'd be scared.

Xiao Qi's voice drifted over from the side.

"Xiao Qi thinks the key issue might not be the joke..."

Not entirely unaware of that himself, Chu Guang sighed.

"True."

Just as he was about to set the matter aside, a piercing howl came from the direction of the medical bay.

"Gaia!!!"

Gaia?

Chu Guang was momentarily confused, not understanding what that wailing brother was yelling about, only recognizing it as a player's shout.

But soon, the voice that followed from that direction immediately answered his confusion.

"You ungrateful bastard... I went through so much trouble to save you! And this is how you thank me???"