Chapter 627: This Android Is So Useful!

Chapter 627: This Android Is Just Too Handy!

“MMP! My idea got stolen by those dog planners again!!”

In the industrial district of Dawn City.

A mosquito with eight mechanical tentacles strapped to his back crossed his arms, staring at the crab-shaped engineering armor climbing up and down a nearby construction site, a sour mix of envy and jealousy churning inside him.

What difference was there between that thing and the crab robot he’d cobbled together before?

But he had to admit—those NPCs from Vault 100 had opened up tech, and their crab robot really did have some tricks up its sleeve.

Climb inside that thing, and one man could do the work of five.

Especially in complex terrain construction, this bulky machine not only kept workers safe but also boosted efficiency per man-hour.

Right now, the Alliance’s workers were still clumsy with it, yet it had already raised construction speed by a fair margin. Give it a bit more time, and its performance would be even more astonishing.

Not far off, a bald android—unnecessarily wearing a hard hat—was chatting with a similarly helmeted construction team leader and an engineer, apparently passing on some know-how.

The mosquito had been thinking of sidling over to eavesdrop and pick up a few tips, when just then a familiar voice came from beside him.

“Mosquito? Weren’t you off at Boulder City? When’d you get back?”

“Haha, what’s Light got you riled up about this time?”

The newcomers were Quarrel and Doom.

Seeing it was his two underlings, the mosquito didn’t blush. He let out a long sigh toward the construction site and started spinning a yarn.

“That big crab! You remember, I built one myself a while back—still sitting in the warehouse at Dawn City. And now, before the version even updates, it’s become an NPC’s toy!”

Quarrel paused, took a moment to recall, then suddenly burst out laughing, nearly choking.

Beside him, Doom was even less polite, laughing harder, hiccuping and almost gagging on his own spit.

“Damn, that was how many versions ago?!”

“That thing was a machine—no wait, was what you made even a crab?!”

It was just a pile of crab shells slapped together—hell, it didn’t even have an electronic control system, let alone batteries or motors.

There were so many flaws they didn’t know where to start roasting him, so they just doubled over, clutching their stomachs and laughing.

Seeing his two disciples show him no respect, the mosquito didn’t get mad—he was used to it. He just rolled his eyes and decided not to stoop to their level.

To be fair, didn’t every great invention start out imperfect? Rome wasn’t built in a day.

His unpowered armor and crab robot were just temporarily flawed. The recent soft updates had already proven his thinking was sound—it just needed a little more polish.

The mosquito believed that given time, his weird contraptions would find their use.

And MMP, when he’d rolled out the airplane and the recoilless rifle, nobody laughed! Why did they have to keep harping on this?

Finally done laughing, Quarrel suddenly noticed the eight mechanical arms behind the mosquito, and his grin turned to surprise.

“Damn, bro, you picked those mechanical arms back up?”

The mosquito chuckled.

“Picked them up? Nope. I ordered a new set.”

Quarrel: “Damn?!”

Doom was stunned too, shaking his head with a wry smile.

“Boss, haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”

“I knew you two would say that!”

The mosquito sighed dramatically, didn’t explain, and operated the mechanical hand behind his left arm to reach across and grab the mechanical arm behind his right shoulder.

With a shrug of his shoulder, right there in front of everyone, he yanked the mechanical arm off like pulling a carrot.

At this absurd, unbelievable sight, Quarrel’s eyes nearly popped out.

“Holy crap?! The prosthetic can be detached?!”

The mosquito smirked smugly.

“It’s not that the prosthetic can be detached—it’s that I had them make it modular.”

As he spoke, the hand behind him jabbed the arm back into place, reattaching it.

Doom stared at him blankly, then finally squeezed out a question.

“But what about the spine? Can that be detached too?”

If he remembered right, major body modifications didn’t just swap out components—they also required expanding the original hardware.

And that “expansion” meant replacing the spine.

The structural materials were mainly titanium alloy or stainless steel, while the nerve-connection gear used carbon-based polymers and molybdenum.

A set of modified prosthetics worth half a million silver coins—at least a hundred thousand, maybe two hundred thousand, went into the spine and the surgery to replace it.

If you only made the mechanical arms detachable, you’d still have to pay for the expensive bionic spine every time you died.

Facing Doom’s question, the mosquito grinned slyly.

“That part really can’t be detached, but no big deal! Fun fact: the more you mass-produce industrial goods, the cheaper they get. I came back from Boulder City precisely to solve this problem!”

Quarrel and Doom both blinked.

“Solve this problem…”

“What are you up to now?”

Seeing their clueless faces, the mosquito cleared his throat theatrically and continued with a flourish.

“Just yesterday! I got the authorization contract and long-term supply order from Ibis at Boulder Military Industries!”

“From now on, Goblin Tech’s engineers will work with Boulder Military Industries’ engineers to develop a production line for ‘universal-interface bionic spines’! Replace the old masters’ secret recipes with standardized manufacturing processes, so every player who goes the modification route can have a spine they can abuse without feeling the pain!”

“In short, I’m going to drive down the price of bionic prosthetics!!!”

Of course, that wasn’t all. There was a deeper reason—he was genuinely fascinated by bionic technology.

The aviation kerosene he’d developed earlier had already given him a taste of success.

And after discovering that some in-game tech could actually be applied in real life, his ambitions had grown.

If he could transplant even part of the bionic prosthetic technology into reality…

Even if he couldn’t fully master these overly advanced techniques, just bringing the “prerequisite tech”—neural connection technology and algorithms—into the real world could make cervical spondylosis and high-level paraplegia physically disappear from the planet.

But he knew the idea was a bit too crazy.

Real-world neural connection tech and related algorithms were still in their infancy—barely enough to let a trained gorilla play table tennis.

Still, considering that companies had managed to build virtual helmets, he had some confidence in his hands-on skills and learning ability.

As one of the earliest players in the game, his Human Federation language was already good enough to chat normally with NPCs. He just needed to learn more specialized terms and understand those “overly advanced basics.”

All of that could be learned over time.

After hearing the mosquito’s bold declaration, Quarrel and Doom both widened their eyes in unison.

“Holy crap!”

"666!"

Good heavens!

Earlier, he’d been griping on the forum about that Mosquito fellow, wasting his money day after day playing guinea pig for NPCs—a total sucker through and through.

Now, it seemed his own vision had been too narrow.

Turns out the guy was playing a long game, grinding NPC favor until he flipped from being a mark to a partner.

Outsourcing for the "competition."

That slick move was something he’d never seen coming...

...

The "powerhouse alliance" between Goblin Tech and Boulder Military Industries was just a minor blip in the sea of production orders flooding Dawn City’s industrial district.

In this industrial hub, expanding almost before your very eyes, deals worth tens or even hundreds of millions were struck nearly every day.

Grain from Sunset Province kept the Alliance’s food supply steady, while the mines run by prisoner-of-war camps and the garbage-sorting centers provided raw materials at virtually no labor cost.

With the prices of daily necessities and upstream raw materials for the industrial chain both stable, the constant stream of new products and industries could absorb the endogenous inflation from the Alliance’s proactive debt financing. Meanwhile, Sunset Province and Jinchuan Province, which supplied industrial raw materials, could readily soak up some of the surplus industrial goods.

It wasn’t just bionic prosthetics that would see their prices drop in the future.

If Mosquito hadn’t been bragging after a few too many drinks, no one in the tavern would even bother talking about such a trivial topic.

The hot topic in Dawn City lately was something else entirely.

A special group of residents had recently joined the Alliance—all of them androids, and a hundred and ten of them, no less!

That number might not sound like much, but in a city of a hundred and twenty thousand, it was nearly one in a thousand!

A good portion of them were experts in physics and engineering, while the rest had rich experience in engineering management.

Since most of the shelters excavated earlier had been focused on biotech research, the Alliance had always been short on hands in physics and engineering.

This batch of androids greatly improved the scientific expedition team’s efficiency in recovering technology in those fields.

Their extensive engineering management experience also gave a big boost to the Alliance’s many hastily assembled construction crews.

These androids were usually active around Camp 101. Some were hired by the camp’s educational institutions and labs, while others were on construction sites, guiding crews in operating the "Beetle" engineering armor and spider robots unearthed from Shelter 100.

They were all uniformly bald, with dull gray skin—far easier to recognize than Frost or Eclipse, who had their own synthetic skin. The locals didn’t really dislike them, since the Alliance had people from all over.

At most, they were a bit puzzled.

These folks didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, never changed their clothes, and slept by just standing next to a charging station.

They had no human needs at all.

What were they working for, anyway?

...

"Those androids have been a huge help!"

Back in the same café at Shelter 101.

When he saw Dr. Fang again, Chu Guang sat down and couldn’t stop praising them.

Speaking objectively, from the Alliance administrator’s standpoint, he couldn’t find a single flaw in these hundred and ten newly naturalized android residents.

Their professional skills were exactly what the Alliance needed most, and they were incredibly passionate about their work. When it came to grinding, even the players couldn’t outdo them!

The craziest part? Such excellent employees didn’t even ask for wages!

Just a regular charge was enough.

Still, even though Gurgel said they didn’t want money, Chu Guang followed Alliance rules and made sure the employers paid them wages and triple overtime as required.

It was for their own good.

Otherwise, even if they did good deeds, they might end up getting bricks thrown at them by other workers for no reason.

The Alliance didn’t encourage working for free; it insisted that labor must be compensated. Otherwise, freeing those serfs would lose its meaning.

But Chu Guang seriously considered the sincere request Gurgel made on behalf of the other residents.

On his orders, the Alliance Bank set up a special custodial account for these androids. According to their wishes, the surplus from their wage cards was regularly transferred into that account, and the money was then used to invest in Dawn City’s infrastructure.

That way, they found spiritual redemption by fulfilling their deceased comrades’ wishes, while Dawn City’s residents benefited from their donations.

It was a win-win!

To be honest, when Gurgel accepted this proposal, Chu Guang felt nothing but admiration.

Working hard without consuming any goods, needing only basic electricity to survive, pouring every penny they earned into the Alliance’s development and future—and finding the drive to throw themselves into the next task purely from spiritual satisfaction and joy.

What a noble and selfless spirit!

Of course, he wouldn’t encourage others to imitate them from his position as administrator—that would be planting a huge landmine.

But after reading Xiao Qi’s observation report on those androids, Chu Guang couldn’t help daydreaming a little.

If only he could produce more of these androids that worked without consuming!

Seeing Dr. Fang’s knowing smile, Chu Guang knew the clever man had guessed his thoughts, so he cut straight to the chase.

"Why not produce more androids with their own personalities?"

Actually, he had an even better idea.

No need to burden them with such a heavy past—just start them off with a debt of a hundred million or something, and they’d be just as motivated to hustle.

As if waiting for Chu Guang to ask, Dr. Fang curved his lips and smiled.

"I know what you’re thinking, but I’d advise you to drop that clever trick. Memories can indeed be edited through computer technology, and even personalities can be solved with algorithms. But androids like that won’t become social beings. They’ll cause all sorts of problems in social production."

Chu Guang frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Fang chuckled.

"Literally. You’ve probably noticed a bit yourself. For example, androids who take no wages at all cause issues, so you insist on symbolically paying them, even if the money just cycles through your financial system."

That was only natural.

Chu Guang asked, puzzled.

"What’s the connection?"

"The connection is that personality isn’t something that can be produced; it’s born naturally in society. A clone fresh out of the cloning pod, even if given modern education, would perform worse on an assembly line than a trained monkey—not because they’re unintelligent, but because they lack social attributes."

Before Chu Guang could ask further, Dr. Fang took a sip of coffee and said in a very soft voice,

"This topic was a sharp social issue in the early Prosperity Era: what counts as a human?"

Chu Guang asked.

"Was that something worth debating?"

Dr. Fang replied matter-of-factly.

"Of course. Every era has its own issues; radical and conservative views always coexist. For instance, in the old days, the definition of a human was the unity of natural person and social person—a consensus between radicals and conservatives. Even if they argued fiercely over identity, race, or land, no one cared about such a strange topic."

"But in the Prosperity Era, with breakthroughs in information technology and biology, people could easily transform themselves into something else, even graft their minds onto more perfect species. That once-unquestionable consensus began to loosen. Simply put, what was once just imaginable became truly achievable."

"Radicals believe that humans should be social beings, and whether they are natural beings is not so important. As long as there is a complete chain of evidence proving the inheritance of personality, whether it is transplanted into a cat or a robot, they still belong to the citizens of the Human Union."

"However, the conservative view remains the same as before, like the racists of the old era and the royalists of even earlier times. They believe that only when the identity of a natural person and a social person are unified can one be called human; otherwise, no matter how human-like they are, they are merely 'humanoids.' Based on this view, a small amount of cybernetic modification is acceptable, but replacing large parts with machinery for non-medical purposes and modifying genetic information is unacceptable."

Watching Chu Guang lost in thought, Fangfa continued.

"Both sides actually have their own logic, but setting these issues aside, you can see that they actually agree on one thing."

Chu Guang nodded with interest.

"They both agree that being a social person is a necessary attribute of being human?"

Fangfa nodded approvingly.

"Exactly."

He paused, set down his coffee cup, and spoke in a more serious tone.

"What you call personality is actually one of the components of social attributes. Radicals would not think that a vending machine should have citizenship rights, no matter how long it has lived in the Human Union. However, a bionic human whose 'AI core's logical algorithm has naturally formed within the society of the Human Union and can participate in social production' would, in the eyes of most radicals, be considered a human's son or daughter."

"If we fabricate a nonexistent identity, give it a fabricated memory, and use an intellectual plug-in to endow it with human emotions, even if our society finds it difficult to distinguish it from the crowd, it can only exist as someone's pet or appendage."

"It is like an extra puzzle piece. If it only performs simple, repetitive mechanical work, there is no problem—it might even do better than an average person, though slightly worse than a pure machine. But if it participates more deeply in the operation of the social system—for example, independently engaging in creative work or even public affairs—it will easily reveal its flaws, making incomprehensible mistakes in the most bizarre places."

"The residents of Vault 100 were naturally born in a real society. Whether they upload their minds to circuit boards or transfer them back to physical bodies, they can, based on their self-awareness and social cognition, behave almost identically to others in that society. That is why they satisfy you so much."

"To put it in a mystical way, their souls are real, and a soul is not something that can be simply copied like a program."

Chu Guang rubbed his temples, organizing the complex content.

"I roughly understand... In short, only when a bionic human's logical algorithm is formed in Society A can it spontaneously participate in the social activities of Society A."

"By indirect deduction, if Society A and Society B share similarities or can tolerate each other, it can also integrate into Society B. However, if it encounters Society C, which is completely opposite to Society A—like a mutant tribe—it will show obvious discomfort and subjective resistance."

"This feels the same as with humans, doesn't it?"

Fangfa smiled and nodded.

"That's exactly it. So, to answer your earlier question about why not produce more: purely in terms of materials, labor, and other costs, bionic humans are far less cost-effective than clones. Clones can learn through education to become experts or scholars in a certain field, while bionic humans, even if you stuff all knowledge into their heads, can at most become walking encyclopedias—they neither know how to use that knowledge nor what knowledge to research."

Chu Guang sighed in admiration.

"I see. I've learned a lot."

He came from a world before the era of prosperity; he wasn't just ignorant of these things—he was completely clueless.

Even regarding how to treat bionic humans and Xiaoyu, he was feeling his way across the river, making decisions while consulting the opinions of other residents of the Alliance.

As long as they agreed to end the era of wastelands, he would try to unite even mutants, to see if they shared the same thoughts.

Watching Chu Guang, who looked so eager to learn, Fangfa suddenly burst out laughing.

Chu Guang looked at him in bewilderment.

"What are you laughing at?"

Not knowing is not knowing—what's so funny about that?

Fangfa suppressed his laughter and said,

"Nothing... It's just that discussing these things written in the preface of textbooks with you feels quite amusing, hahahaha!"

Chu Guang: "...?"

What exactly is amusing about this?