Or alternatively, if any unexpected situations arise, Mercer will not hesitate to threaten Miles to provide full support for him.
Yes, from now on until Mercer's mission ends, President Miles is, in practice, his hostage.
The ransom depends on the success of the plan.
And Lark doesn't know whether what Mercer says is true or not, but she has heard of the terrifying reputation of the Moon Material Pusher—the kind of terrifying attack that far surpasses nuclear bombs in power, is more environmentally friendly, and is impossible to defend against, especially if a rogue AI truly gains control of it...
"So, what do we need to do now?" Lark reminded him, "Are you going to go openly with me?"
"Of course not." Mercer motioned her to follow him, and Lark walked obediently behind until they quickly arrived at a prosthetic surgery room.
"This is..." Without waiting for Mercer's introduction, Lark's gaze fixated on a special prosthetic placed in the cultivation liquid.
It looked like the skin of a human face—it appeared somewhat terrifying, but behind the face were densely packed circuit boards and chips.
Lark blurted out the name of the item: "Behavioral Feature Face Plate? Where did you get this?"
"Self-developed, I call it 'Thousand Faces,' far more advanced than your Behavioral Feature Face Plate."
Mercer explained briefly and then motioned for her to lie down: "To achieve perfect disguise with the Behavioral Feature Face Plate, one would even have to steal neural data from the human brain to achieve perfect matching. But my invention is much more useful than that.
All it takes is importing biological data compiled and transformed by me to perfectly replace the entire face, and the matching biological verification will automatically switch. Of course, more components need to be installed as well."
Mercer took out a large pile of equipment, including the face plate and a nanocamouflage skin and bio-signal simulator.
"By the time we return from the Moon, you can customize a new face and start a new life, and as for the identity records... with your hacking skills, getting an identity shouldn't require my help, right?"
Mercer asked, and Lark nodded excitedly: "Of course! Thank you, Mercer!"
"This thing is not difficult to repair; I'll send you a simple inspection program. If the prosthetic malfunctions, you can self-diagnose the fault source and have a prosthetic doctor fix it."
Mercer said, casually starting to equip his mecha with medical Octopus Arms.
Lark watched the Octopus Arms waving menacingly behind him, jokingly saying, "Then I'll leave it to you to make me look pretty—do I need to undress?"
"No need, the nanocamouflage skin uses an injection method similar to Nanomaterial Armor; a few shots in critical areas will suffice. As for the rest... your upper body is just like mine, aside from a layer of skin, everything else is mechanical, so whether you undress or not makes no difference."
Mercer finished, glancing at her, while Lark looked at him anxiously: "So when will my medical surgery be done?"
"Now." Mercer finished, and Lark was stunned: "I mean, my neural..."
"Did you think I was starting the surgery right now for no reason?"
Mercer was calmly adjusting the Octopus Arms, while four Octopus Arms stretched out from the back of his mecha. At the same time, next to the operating table, several small Octopus Arms automatically emerged, and one picked up a neural connection line, connecting it to Mercer's brain.
For a moment, Lark involuntarily swallowed: "You mean you're going to perform a full-body disguise surgery and repair my neural surgery as well? How about we wait until we return from the Moon?"
"Stop wasting time and lie down." Mercer merely curled his lips with interest, watching her: "Afraid of needles?"
"Not really..." Lark wanted to say something more, but a mechanical arm had already raised a needle and penetrated her neck.
She sighed and could only resign herself to closing her eyes: "Mercer... after the surgery... will I be okay?"
"No." Mercer watched her immediately open her eyes with force and couldn't help but laugh twice: "At least you'll have to recover for a few days."
Only then did Lark give him a slightly reproachful glare, but soon after, she gradually fell into a daze and passed out.
The mechanical arms behind Mercer began morphing, and various surgical instruments surfaced accordingly. He checked the time and then sent a message to V.
[Mercer: The ticket for tonight at nine fifty. We need to get to the station early and be ready.]
[V: Hmm? Ready for what?]
[Mercer: Going to the Moon.]
[V: ?]