Chapter 25: Blow Up His Mech
"How should I put it? You could call them gene evolvers, but these people are rather obsessive in their quest to become gene evolvers. The gene evolution method we use always retains a human-centric approach—in fact, the so-called mutants are, by mainstream opinion, actually failures of gene evolution."
"However, according to some reports, the mainstream view is correct. Mutants, having incorporated genes from polluted organisms, tend to have temperaments and other traits that are more beast-like than human. What you've heard probably comes from gamers—one game even features mutants. In reality, mutants do exist, but very rarely; and once any mutant is discovered, they are immediately destroyed." Liu Zhijie explained. As an employee of the company, Yang Bo needed to be informed of such matters.
"Oh, thank you, Boss. I'll head back now."
"Go on. There are quite a few VIPs here this time—nobody likes to serve high-profile clients who have implanted chips." Liu Zhijie replied.
Curious about what this virtual training was all about, Yang Bo eagerly made his way back. He soon discovered that the "training" was simply a rundown of service standards. It covered employee guidelines such as not staring directly at others, not disclosing the client's whereabouts, and not approaching to solicit signatures—indeed, you weren't even supposed to speak up.
It also detailed what to do in emergencies—for example, if someone forcibly entered your security zone. You were to loudly warn, "Sir, this is a restricted area; please leave." If the intruder didn't stop, you'd immediately issue a second warning and activate your personal alarm, and that was it. The rest was left to watch as high-level, specialized security personnel dealt with the intruder—no need for you to intervene directly, since someone like Yang Bo had no law-enforcement authority; taking matters into his own hands would only create trouble for the company. As for encountering armed individuals, the rule was simple: run, because protecting yourself is paramount in the face of overwhelming danger.
When serving VIPs—for instance, cleaning the residence of a high-profile client—the protocol was to avoid making eye contact and simply focus on one's own work. Even if a fight broke out, you were not to interfere, as that was outside the scope of company services.
And that was it. Yang Bo felt a twinge of disappointment; he had hoped this training would teach him how to be a competent security guard, perhaps even with some hands-on, combative practice, but it was all procedural.
In short, after an hour of training, Yang Bo had memorized the process without any formal assessment. Since the virtual headset was company-issued, Yang Bo suspected that Liu Zhijie's team could monitor whether he was being tested—and clearly, slacking off in broad daylight wasn't allowed.
Later, Yang Bo found an online paid martial arts training program. He opted for the paid version because payment signified a binding contract, which minimized the risk of privacy leaks. As Liu Zhijie had explained, large software companies wouldn't risk exposing their vulnerabilities over a few minor individuals.
Of course, Yang Bo's mech game and this martial arts training were run on his personal virtual projection device and auxiliary equipment—not using the company-issued virtual headset, which only contained two training programs; the rest were internal to the company. No matter what any internet company claims about the importance of privacy and respect, only large companies can afford to strictly uphold that line, given the enormous risks. As for small companies—they can simply go bankrupt. What can you do?
Yang Bo began with an evasion training session in a room where balls were hurled from all directions. At first, he found it odd—the balls appeared to move slowly, and he dodged them effortlessly: one, two, three, four, five. Then it dawned on him that this was his Dynamic Vision ability at work.
Within one minute the training intensity escalated, and after ten minutes the room was filled with balls moving at varying speeds. If all the balls moved uniformly, he could easily calculate their distances, but with some accelerating and others decelerating, his mind had to work overtime.
At 18 minutes, Yang Bo was struck in a vital spot, and the first training session ended. Wiping away a long stream of sweat—he'd never sweated this much since arriving in this world—he paused to recharge before continuing with attack-mode training.
Again in the same room, he trained with a dummy that dodged. Initially, the dummy moved slowly, then gradually sped up. Yang Bo chose to train using his fists; in this high-tech world, if you brandish weapons ostentatiously, the drone police will neutralize you in less than 30 seconds—even if you have a good reason or no fault at all. Once you're flagged by the drone police as making dangerous movements, they strike immediately.
Next, he engaged in combat training against a fast-moving dummy. At first, he could only defend, but gradually he started to counterattack—until two dummies appeared as opponents. According to the software developers, the martial arts training had no fixed moves or routines; it was purely to hone your instinctive reactions. Yang Bo wasn't sure whether such training would be useful in this ultra-advanced society, but he figured some preparation was better than none.
As for playing the mech game, Yang Bo was limited to two hours a day because it was extremely expensive. "I can't go back to that lake from yesterday—where should I head next?" After dinner that afternoon, Yang Bo logged into the mech game again.
Yesterday, he had barely managed to take out a few opponents; today, he resolved not to repeat that. After scrutinizing the official customer service data, he discovered that about 500 kilometers away there was a D-level polluted creature. Yang Bo decided to go see it for himself.
This D-level polluted creature was a giant rat living in a narrow rock crevice near the mountains. Many new players had attempted to exterminate it, but, unfortunately, the rat seemed to possess some elusive ability that always let it escape—and the crevice was so deep and narrow that no mech could enter.
What Yang Bo didn't know was that, less than 100 kilometers from the base, someone had begun tracking him. This was because there were very few Blade mechs at the base, and most other players had heavily modified theirs—equipped with stronger rocket backpacks, more formidable laser swords, etc.
Yang Bo mulled over the map on his way. He planned to head toward the D-level polluted rat area—not primarily to farm the rat, but because his main target was the numerous bats reported in a nearby cave. After all, while farming ordinary animals was one thing, how could one farm such a robust polluted creature when repairing a mech was so costly?
"General, give the order!" In the underground command center, Tiger-Faced General called out as his subordinates watched Yang Bo's distant mech.
"Blood Bat, you're up. I want you and your team to smash this pathetic mech to pieces. From now on, whenever this loser shows up, obliterate his mech—if his mech is continuously destroyed, he'll go bankrupt. And once he's bankrupt, we can secure a court judgment to track him down in real life. Then, I'm going to eat him!" Tiger-Faced General seethed, his frustration palpable as he raged over the losses he'd incurred because of that Blade mech.
(End of Chapter)