«There are seven of them.»
He Fang had never imagined that one day he would witness a battle between robots and a god. The Divine Lord and the Rainbow Squad were completely different in style—seeing them together felt like watching an absurd mash-up CGI film.
The colossal Divine Lord remained an unmoving statue in this military exercise, exuding an air of compassion toward humanity. The faith-infused energy radiating from his pristine white statue filled all who beheld him with an overwhelming sense of awe, as if they were witnessing a divine symbol atop the path to the heavens, a sight only seen in dreams or at the moment of death.
The humanoid mecha moved with such precision that it seemed almost human, its movements swift and fluid. But the weapon in its hands was a different matter entirely. The enormous longsword looked like a variant of a lightsaber, yet when He Fang watched it swing horizontally, he saw the ground beneath it sliced open into a deep trench. The soil was completely overturned by the sheer force of the blade’s energy.
And yet, the Divine Lord before it remained utterly unshaken, untouched by the devastating sword strike.
“Target’s rebellious capabilities exceed limits. Unlocking ability to 50.”
A cold mechanical voice rang out. In that instant, He Fang felt as if he were staring into the sun.
Missiles fired from various parts of the humanoid mecha, accompanied by countless flashes of light and flame, all locked onto the Divine Lord. The brightness was so intense that it completely drowned out the daylight, making He Fang’s eyes sting. Instinctively, he shielded them with his hand.
Suddenly, he realized that the car he was sitting in had stopped—no, not stopped, but been flipped over. The moment he grasped this fact, he lowered his arm slightly, only to see shattered glass fragments from the vehicle flying before him. The shockwave from the mecha’s attack had tossed them into the air with zero resistance.
He Fang’s instincts screamed that he was about to be injured. His first reaction was to log out of the game immediately. But at that moment, an unfamiliar sound reached his ears.
He was in the front passenger seat, and the passenger door had just been ripped away.
Startled, He Fang looked up to see a man dressed entirely in black standing at the door frame, extending a hand toward him. In a swift, forceful motion, the man grabbed He Fang’s seatbelt and yanked.
The sturdy seatbelt tore apart in an instant.
The next thing He Fang knew, he was pulled from his seat and into the embrace of the black-uniformed man.
A gloved hand pressed against the back of He Fang’s neck, securing him firmly against the man’s chest. He felt a sudden sensation of weightlessness before everything steadied, his feet once again touching solid ground.
He Fang looked up and met the man’s cold, indifferent gaze.
Chong Xiao’s eyes flickered slightly before shifting away.
A massive explosion suddenly erupted behind He Fang. At the same time, Chong Xiao switched positions with him, using his own body as a shield to absorb the impact of the blast.
He Fang’s mind went blank. “Min Zhizhou!”
“I’m here. Don’t worry.”
A rough, gravelly voice called out from the other side. He Fang turned and saw a tall, burly middle-aged man standing beside Min Zhizhou, gripping his collar with one hand.
Min Zhizhou was unharmed, but he remained fixated on the battle unfolding before them. His wide eyes reflected nothing but pure shock and disbelief as if he wanted to take in every detail of the battle of the century.
Seeing Min Zhizhou like this, He Fang suddenly thought of that old man with loyalty at 3,000, the one who sat in the sun with graying hair, tirelessly carrying out orders simply because He Fang had given them.
Was Min Zhizhou’s unwavering focus on his mission also due to his loyalty?
He Fang pulled up Min Zhizhou’s attribute panel—and to his shock, his loyalty was skyrocketing. The numbers were climbing at an alarming speed as if the program had broken.
Turning back, He Fang could still see the awe-inspiring humanoid mecha, pushing itself to its absolute limits to inflict serious damage on the Divine Lord.
Yet, the Divine Lord’s statue remained motionless. His lower half was enveloped by a sacred beast, which raised its head high, exuding a sense of absolute supremacy over all things. The terrifyingly powerful mecha suddenly seemed like a petty, overreaching demon before the Divine Lord—who, in contrast, was the ultimate god, proud, cold, and supremely arrogant.
“Target’s rebellious capabilities exceed limits. Unlocking ability to 80.”
The emotionless mechanical voice shifted. He Fang watched in horror as the humanoid mecha activated every single weapon on its body.
“All weapons fully deployed. Initiating maximum firepower bombardment.”
The mecha raised its massive longsword high. In that instant, a violent tremor ran through He Fang’s body.
A deep sense of foreboding gripped him.
He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he had a terrifying feeling that if this next attack landed, the damage to his city would be beyond catastrophic.
“Enough! Enough! Stop! STOP!”
He Fang couldn’t hold back any longer and shouted at the top of his lungs.
“That’s it! STOP!”
He Fang was truly terrified. That last attack had scorched the land itself, uprooting entire sections of the city.
His heart ached terribly.
Even though all civilians had already been evacuated to a safe zone, if this area was destroyed, his losses would be immeasurable.
Timely damage control, timely damage control!
He Fang’s voice was as weak as a mosquito’s hum in the vast city, nearly inaudible. Yet, despite that, the battle between the Divine Lord and the humanoid mecha suddenly came to a halt.
The sculpture of the Divine Lord, which had been looking down on all things with contempt, gradually faded into the air, disappearing completely without leaving a trace—clean and decisive.
At the same time, the mechanical voice of the humanoid mecha rang out again: “Threat detection restarting. No significant threat was detected. Repeating scan… Scan complete. No significant threat was detected. All weapons retracted. Mission accomplished. Rainbow Squad Red has successfully completed the city defense mission.”
As the mechanical voice echoed, He Fang watched as those terrifying weapons were slowly retracted, restoring the humanoid mecha to its original, unarmed state. It then glided back toward the red beam of light, retreating into its pillar.
What remained was utter devastation.
He Fang finally made his way to the battlefield. The ground beneath his feet was so soft that it was nearly swamp-like—stepping onto it would cause one to sink deep into the churned-up earth. The entire land within the designated military exercise zone had been upturned inside out. He Fang could even see countless insect corpses mixed into the soil.
“Wow, what a level of destruction.”
A sharp female voice suddenly rang out behind He Fang. That familiar, proud tone was deeply etched in his memory. Who else could it be but Lu Hu? Just hearing her voice was enough to sense her bold and unrestrained nature.
From the vehicles behind Lu Hu, a considerable number of men and women in extravagant, ornate uniforms disembarked in an orderly fashion, spreading out to survey the surroundings. Each NPC meticulously recorded the extent of damage caused by the military exercise. Meanwhile, some residents had started returning to the city, staring blankly at their ruined homes and farmland. Under the guidance of the finance department, they began filling out reconstruction request forms.
“This is quite something.” Lu Hu swept her gaze across the vast expanse of devastation. “Not only do we have to restore the land, but we also have to repair the destroyed buildings, provide reconstruction subsidies for the residents, and compensate the farmers for their lost crops. On top of that, the Rainbow Squad’s weapon refueling and the high-cost energy recharge will require a lot of money.”
Already reeling from the sheer scale of destruction that looked like a natural disaster had struck, He Fang nearly blacked out upon hearing Lu Hu’s words.
“The Rainbow Squad is just a weapon. It has no self-awareness, so there’s no way it’ll be paying for the damages. As for the Divine Lord… heh.”
Lu Hu’s mocking tone sent a chill down He Fang’s spine. The Divine Lord had followed his orders—that meant if any compensation was required, it would have to come out of the national treasury.
Despair crept onto He Fang’s face as the light in his eyes dimmed. What else could he do? He was the one who ordered the military exercise. He had just never imagined that the level of destruction would be this catastrophic.
In the end, He Fang could only force a bitter smile before turning to Min Zhizhou.
“So, after watching all this, do you have any particularly insightful suggestions?”
He had wasted so many resources—so much money—to stage a battle between the two greatest defensive forces in his city. If Min Zhizhou couldn’t give him a proper answer, he might just spit blood on the spot.
Finally, Min Zhizhou turned his gaze toward He Fang, who looked like he was on the verge of tears, and swallowed hard.
“…I apologize.”
The moment He Fang heard the word “apologize”, he immediately shot a murderous glare at Min Zhizhou, who quickly sped up his speech.
“I mean—I apologize for my previous misjudgment! There are indeed mechas in mobile cities, but their capabilities are nowhere near as comprehensive and powerful as those in your city. At least, based on what I know, I am utterly shocked by the defensive strength of your city.”
Upon receiving this answer, He Fang’s expression finally eased a little.
Then, he turned his gaze toward Lu Hu.
This woman is the very embodiment of money. Just looking at her reminded He Fang of his gradually emptying national treasury, making him want to cry even more.
Finally, he looked at the land that had been reduced to rubble—land he couldn’t bear to look at any longer. Heart heavy, he logged off.
“Was it really that extreme? Are those light pillars actually that powerful?”
After He Fang vanished from the scene, Lu Hu stood nearby, refusing to step onto the now soft, unstable ground.
“I had only heard about the Rainbow Squad before, but I never expected its actions to have such a massive impact,” Qi Jingwei admitted, still somewhat in awe.
“I think it’s possible that the Divine Lord was just too powerful, which made Xiao Hong try so hard to defeat him.”
At that moment, Chong Ying jogged over from the distance, dragging a data recorder with him. After stopping to catch his breath, he continued, “Xiao Hong doesn’t have independent thought. When the Divine Lord provoked him, he automatically classified the Divine Lord as a traitor and then went all-out to eliminate him. From my perspective, he’s actually quite loyal.”
“I’ve recorded everything. I’ll pass it on to Zhu Yan and the others for analysis later. Xiao Hong’s destructive power is seriously impressive. My brother is strong too, but Xiao Hong’s speed is even faster. I guess size does have its advantages. Bro, you’re too small.”
But Chong Xiao wasn’t paying attention to the conversation at all. He was staring at his hands in a daze, completely unresponsive as if he had fallen into a deep trance.
“What’s up with my brother?” Chong Ying asked, puzzled, as he reached out to poke Chong Xiao’s cheek.
Qi Jingwei’s expression was complicated. He decided to ignore that issue and instead asked Min Zhizhou again, “Can you elaborate on your thoughts about the Rainbow Squad?”
Min Zhizhou lifted his gaze to Qi Jingwei and then closed his eyes. His eyes hurt. His whole body hurt. His eardrums hurt. The impact from earlier had severely injured him.
Something seemed to be dripping from his nose. He reached out to touch it—sure enough, he was having a nosebleed. His brain was dizzy. It was already a miracle that he was still standing.
It took a long time before Min Zhizhou finally spoke in a solemn tone. “In a mobile city, having a large-scale, high-destruction mecha like this is extremely difficult. Resources are simply too scarce. Every bit has to be squeezed out for use. Even waste has to be repurposed whenever possible. In a place where just maintaining one mecha is nearly impossible, this city actually has seven of them.”
“As a former mercenary, I would normally advise the City Lord to always remain vigilant. If one becomes too trusting of those around them, a single misstep could lead to ruin. But after personally witnessing the sheer power of the city the Lord has built, I feel like all my concerns might be unnecessary. In the face of absolute strength, any scheming or plotting becomes meaningless.”
“Then, in your opinion, if we were to execute an invasion plan, would we succeed?”
Qi Jingwei suddenly asked.
Min Zhizhou, still with his eyes closed, frowned slightly. His eyes hurt too much to open, but right now, he really wanted to see Qi Jingwei’s expression. From his tone, he could practically smell the thick scent of ambition.
“Yes,” Min Zhizhou said. His body wobbled slightly before finally collapsing to the ground—he had reached his physical limit.
Everyone present watched him fall, but none showed any reaction. Only Qi Jingwei chuckled and said, “It seems our invasion plan is inevitable. When can we put it on the agenda?”
Lu Hu, playing with a strand of her hair, replied with satisfaction, “It’ll take some time. The Creator always prefers a steady and cautious approach. He needs to establish enough land to integrate external forces before initiating the invasion.”
“For now, shouldn’t we send Uncle Min to the hospital?” Chong Ying, who was hugging his data recorder, couldn’t help but speak up when he saw the two of them treating Min Zhizhou’s unconscious body with such indifference. “Uncle Min is very important to the Creator. If he dies just like that, the Creator will be angry.”
The two who had been entirely unconcerned about Min Zhizhou’s condition immediately stiffened.
Qi Jingwei stepped forward and checked the unconscious Min Zhizhou. “My bad. I thought he just fainted from shock. I’ll call Zhu Yan right away.”
“You people only ever think about the Creator, but the Creator is very gentle! He definitely wouldn’t want to see his subordinates die. No matter who gets injured, you should take it seriously. Wait—why is Uncle Min so badly injured while the Creator seems completely fine?” Chong Ying suddenly realized something.
“Your brother protected the Creator.” Qi Jingwei glanced at Chong Xiao, who was still staring blankly at his own hands, and explained, “He was so fast that before I could even react, he had already taken the Creator away.”
“Whoa!” Chong Ying’s data recorder slipped from his hands as he rushed over to Chong Xiao excitedly. “Brother, brother, brother! Did you really just pull off a hero-saving-the-beauty moment? Did you actually carry the Creator? No wonder you’re so out of it! Are you super happy? Did you finally get what you wished for? Oh wow, this is amazing! My brother totally nailed it!”
Chong Xiao, who had been in a daze, was finally pulled back to reality when his younger brother grasped his hands. Gradually, his pale face seemed to be tinged with a faint red glow. Even though he didn’t smile and even though he didn’t jump around in excitement like his brother, he still covered his cheeks with his hands, unwilling to let anyone see the expression on his face—one completely different from his usual self.
Meanwhile, after logging off, He Fang rubbed his temples in frustration.
He searched online to see if anyone had written guides on “Ruins Without Restart”, but there was barely any useful information. Most of what he found was people still stuck, unsure of what to do. The most-watched content was still his own first video introducing the game’s background.
Seeing that he was still ahead of the curve, He Fang finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Maybe, at this rate, he could become the biggest streamer for “Ruins Without Restart” in the future.
He had probably lost a ton of money with this stunt, but on the bright side, he now had a better grasp of “Ruins Without Restart’s” setting—it seemed to lean toward a fantasy-style post-apocalyptic world. He had played similar games before, where sword-wielding warriors fought against monsters in a city of steel, performing dazzling sword techniques… all while riding motorcycles.
Overall, the game still adheres to a form of pseudo-science. Based on the setting of firearms, mobile cities, and the Rainbow Squad, it is highly likely set in a cyberpunk-style future technology era. In that case, the existence of the “Divine Lord” concept seems completely out of place—why insist on incorporating faith in a punk-era world?
That aside, it now seems that the invasion plan can indeed be set into motion. However, due to his dwindling funds, he would probably need to focus on constructing essential buildings first, temporarily slowing down progress on structures that aren’t immediately necessary.
In the gaming world, the one who posts the first guide becomes the authority. He Fang wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by—he eagerly turned his newfound knowledge about the Rainbow Squad into a guide video and uploaded it online.
As soon as it was posted, he watched his view count skyrocket. Every time he refreshed, the numbers increased—it was incredibly satisfying.
Countless comments started flooding in.
[Posted one minute ago.]
[Three minutes late.]
[Damn, this city lord is the real deal. He actually collected all the lamp posts. I gave up the moment I saw the price. I thought they were just decorative and had no practical use, but now it looks like not buying them was a huge mistake. The city lord had incredible foresight.]
[I bought the lamp posts. Honestly, before the game launched online, they were pretty useless—just a fancy decoration. They didn’t serve any purpose and took up valuable land. I even found them too bright for decoration. Plus, they consumed way too much electricity. When I removed them from the map, my city’s power usage dropped significantly.]
[Reply: Yeah, the lamp posts are serious power hogs. I only bought one before stopping. But have none of you noticed that all of the city lord’s power plants are top-tier? He’s even placed wind turbines wherever possible, along with hydroelectric plants nearby. His thermal power plants are hidden deep in the forests. Honestly, this is an incredibly well-planned layout. I’ve watched so many videos. This city lord is the only one who’s invested this much effort into city design.]
[Reply: Putting in effort is the only way to survive. My city, which I barely worked on… well, let’s just say it’s already gone. No need for condolences, thanks.]
The more He Fang read, the more satisfied he felt. He was practically the leading figure for “Ruins Without Restart” now. Although he was a bit behind in terms of in-game money, he could still prioritize unlocking new areas. He planned to first establish an airport and a weapons development facility, then set up a military division. Once that was done, he could decide who would be responsible for unlocking new map regions.
As he was strategizing how to expand the map, one particular comment suddenly caught his attention:
[At this rate, the city lord should be able to start unlocking new maps, right? I still haven’t figured out how to do it. I even built an airport, but my planes won’t fly out. Has anyone successfully unlocked a new area yet?]
Planes won’t fly out?
He Fang had intended to use aerial travel as a way to transport people out of the restricted area, but he wasn’t entirely sure what lay above the Nightmare Beast Forest. Since he hadn’t built an airport yet, he hadn’t encountered this issue himself.
He scrolled through more comments, but most of them were just praises about how amazing the city lord’s design was. He skimmed through them without much interest before finally deciding to close the page and wait for new comments to refresh.
Just then, his phone rang. A message popped up: “Dear customer, your delivery has been placed at your door. Please remember to pick it up.”
The words were cold and emotionless. He Fang hesitated for a moment before opening his food delivery app to check which courier was handling his order. It was the same familiar delivery guy, the same familiar phone number—nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
But somehow, just from those few words, He Fang could sense that the delivery guy’s mood probably wasn’t great.
He Fang stepped outside, retrieved his order, and came back in. Yet, for some reason, he didn’t feel like eating. He simply sat there, staring at his phone in a daze.
In the past, every message from the delivery guy had been filled with enthusiasm and joy. But today, something must have gone wrong—his tone seemed noticeably low-spirited.
Had he received a bad review from another customer?
He Fang thought for a moment and decided to go to the app’s backend to give the delivery guy a five-star review.
Then, he opened his food delivery. Today, he had ordered spicy beef rice noodles. The packaging was perfectly intact—clean, with no spills or tilting. This was impressive, considering that while the restaurant’s food was delicious, their takeout containers were rather flimsy and prone to deforming. In the past, the delivery guy had sometimes handled the box a bit roughly, causing minor dents. But today, there wasn’t a single flaw.
Every time He Fang received his order, the packaging was always in perfect condition. The restaurant was meticulous, and the delivery guy handled it with care. People who put this much effort into life naturally leave a good impression.
After thinking it over, He Fang—who was usually too socially anxious to initiate conversations—picked up his phone, wanting to send a few words of comfort to the delivery guy.
Should he directly ask if the guy was feeling down today? But did he even have the right to ask? He was just a customer—this was purely a transactional relationship.
But then again, hadn’t they already exchanged milk teas and fruit teas before? That had to count as some kind of friendship, right?
He Fang paced around his room, feeling nervous.
Maybe he should just let it go. If the delivery guy was really in a bad mood and he sent a message at the wrong time, what if it only made things worse? What if he ended up getting dragged into it somehow?
In the end, He Fang put his phone down and poured the broth into the takeout bowl. The food tasted as good as always, but somehow, this time, it didn’t feel as satisfying.
Just then, his phone buzzed again.
Puzzled, He Fang picked it up and saw a familiar number on the screen. His heart skipped a beat, but then, surprisingly, he felt a hint of anticipation.
He opened the message—it was from the delivery guy.
“Dear customer, thank you so much for the five-star review! Your recognition of my work truly made my day. I really appreciate your support! Sending you a heart gesture!”
He Fang stared at the message, his expression slightly complicated.
Just moments ago, the guy had seemed so down. Yet now, just because of a single five-star review, he was this happy. People who worked hard in life always managed to find reasons to smile.
Maybe it was because the delivery guy had initiated the conversation, but He Fang finally found the courage to type out a message: “Did something upset you today?”
A reply came quickly.
“Oh, so the customer noticed… Actually, it’s because I got an order earlier today. I was completely sure I could deliver it within the required time. But the customer said they had to leave for work and wouldn’t be able to receive it, so they insisted on canceling the order. I told them I’d definitely make it in time, but they didn’t believe me. In the end, I delivered the food before they left and prevented the order from being canceled. But the customer was still unhappy, saying I didn’t let them cancel, and they left me a bad review.”
He Fang blinked. So, this was about having his abilities questioned?
Another message followed.
“I knew I could deliver it on time! I don’t understand why they insisted on canceling. I’ve been delivering food for so long, and I’ve never felt this wronged before.”
He Fang chuckled. It was a bit of a miserable story, but at the same time, it was oddly amusing.
After some thought, he replied: “Maybe the customer just wanted you to be safe and didn’t want you to rush?”
As he typed, He Fang suddenly recalled his own experience in “Ruins Without Restart” today. He had called off the military exercise not just to minimize losses but also out of concern—he didn’t want something irreversible to happen. Both sides had already demonstrated their capabilities; there was no need to push things further.
A reply came three or four minutes later.
“Customer, now that you mention it… maybe that’s true. I was too narrow-minded. I thought they doubted me, but I never considered that they might just be worried about my safety. I’m really glad I got to talk to you about this—I feel a lot better now. Thank you!”
Reading the message, He Fang could tell the delivery guy was an honest and interesting person. He didn’t dwell too much on things—though, in a way, getting upset over this in the first place was already a bit obsessive.
He Fang didn’t reply again. Unexpectedly, he felt relieved.
And as he continued eating his rice noodles, the food tasted even better than before.
Thinking about it, He Fang decided that the next time he logged into the game, he should give both the Divine Lord and Xiao Hong some rewards. After all, they had successfully completed their tasks. Just like how a delivery comes with a payment and a good review, completing a mission should also come with a well-deserved reward.
But as He Fang thought about it, he wondered—what kind of rewards would be suitable for the uniquely designed Divine Lord and Xiao Hong?
Maybe he could have the research institute perform some maintenance on Xiao Hong and then find a painter to give Divine Lord’s statue a full refurbishment.
When He Fang returned to the game, the entire area had basically been restored, though it had cost him a hefty sum—much more than he had originally budgeted. He couldn’t help but secretly suspect whether Lu Hu, that money-loving woman, had skimmed off a portion for herself.
However, every bit of money spent had indeed gone into fully restoring the damaged town. Even the land, which had turned into a swamp-like mess, had regained its proper texture. Vegetables had already been replanted, and a handful of farmers could be seen working in the fields.
Looking at the bustling crowds in the streets, He Fang started feeling that the city was becoming a bit overcrowded. From the aerial city view, the congestion was apparent—he needed to start planning the development of the newly unlocked areas as soon as possible.
But to his surprise, the land he had unlocked was already completely leveled. He had originally worried that he’d have to spend more money to flatten the terrain, but now it seemed that the in-game NPCs had been working on the adjustments themselves.
Turning his gaze toward the edge of his city, He Fang looked at the Nightmare Beast Forest. The forest was pitch black, making it impossible to see what was inside from the outside.
Curious, he moved closer to the forest’s boundary.
Min Zhizhou had once said that in order to lure creatures closer, the Nightmare Beast Forest would, after reaching its expansion limit, wrap all its Nightmare Beast Seeds within Revival Nightmare Plants. However, most parts of the forest should actually be safe.
He Fang tentatively took a step forward.
Clang—
Suddenly, a loud noise echoed behind him, like metal striking stone. Startled, He Fang turned around.
Not far away, in the nearby farmland, a farmer wearing a sweat-soaked undershirt, shorts, and a straw hat had accidentally dropped his rake. It seemed like he had swung too hard, causing the tool to slip from his hands.
The darkly tanned, honest-looking farmer bent down, picked up the rake again, and resumed loosening the soil.
Narrowing his eyes, He Fang turned away from the Nightmare Beast Forest and approached the farmer. The character model of the farmer was impressively detailed—his skin was rough and sun-dried from years of labor under the sun. He never looked up from his work, and at one point, he used the towel draped over his shoulder to wipe away sweat.
The farmer then raised the rake high again and diligently continued his task. Even when He Fang circled around him twice, he didn’t spare him a single glance.
He Fang studied him skeptically. Was it just a coincidence? Why did it feel like that loud noise had been a warning for him not to enter the forest?
That shouldn’t be possible. No matter how advanced a game was, it wouldn’t program every single NPC with unique behavior, right? As far as he had seen, all the farmers in the surrounding area shared similar appearances and actions, likely using a common model.
Turning away, He Fang left.
The farmer remained steadfast in his work, tirelessly tilling the soil. Even after He Fang had completely disappeared from sight, the farmer did not pause for a second—just like a programmed routine. But if one looked closely, one would notice that more sweat had gathered on his forehead than before. His eyes held a flicker of panic, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
He Fang arrived at the research institute and smoothly made his way to Zhu Yan’s laboratory.
Zhu Yan was in the middle of his research.
Standing alone under the only light source in the darkened room, his hair shimmered almost transparently under the bright glow. The scene looked like a painting.
His figure was slender and refined, distinct from the members of the police department and the finance department.
The finance department’s uniforms were extravagantly designed, favoring bold and flamboyant colors. Each individual adorned themselves with unique, stylish accessories—a testament to Lu Hu’s influence as a leader who valued aesthetics.
The police department, on the other hand, wore standardized black uniforms. Their only variations lay in the shirts worn underneath their jackets, which came in various colors. Chong Ying, in particular, was flamboyant enough to wear a bright pink dress shirt beneath his uniform.
The research institute’s attire, however, was exactly what one would expect—pure white lab coats, exuding a stereotypical air of seriousness. But upon closer inspection, it was clear the fabric was no ordinary material.
Curious, He Fang reached out and grasped the hem of Zhu Yan’s coat. It was cool and heavy to the touch, carrying the distinctive texture of something belonging to a meticulous and serious individual.
“City Lord,” Zhu Yan greeted with a smile, his voice breaking the eerie silence of the room.
“What are you working on?” He Fang leaned forward in curiosity.
On the table, various scattered components were laid out. Zhu Yan was meticulously examining them—they seemed to be parts of some kind of dismantled electronic device.
“I’m disassembling a drone to understand its structure,” Zhu Yan explained.
“A drone?” He Fang asked. “You heard that name from Min Zhizhou, didn’t you?”
Zhu Yan nodded. “Yes. I’ve already figured out its flight mechanics. Mr. Min told me that the world beyond our city has airplanes capable of flying freely through the sky. The construction of passenger aircraft is particularly intricate, so I’m considering how to apply similar principles to create one of our own.”
He Fang: “…”
“I also learned from Finance Minister Lu Hu that City Lord intends to expand outward. However, we cannot open a path through the Nightmare Beast Forest—it serves as our natural protective barrier. Therefore, I believe the best approach is to develop aerial routes.”
He Fang: “…”
“Our researchers have already begun surveying the area beyond the forest to study its effects on the sky. We will compile a feasibility report for you as soon as possible, contributing to the grand vision of our Creator.”
He Fang: “…” Incredible. My NPCs are amazing.
