Forty

A mech’s combat power and endurance can’t be determined by the designer’s lips alone—it must be proven through real experiments. But how to test it? Certainly not against people. In this world rife with mutated beasts, you can encounter them just by stepping outside; for instance, a snake as thick as a man’s torso now coils across the highway, its massive head raised high, flicking its long tongue.

Yu Chi Ankang and Zhu Anfu stood at a distance, hands clasped together, waiting to witness a miracle. They had full confidence in the mech. Zhou Zhi, facing the giant snake, was a little nervous as he tried to communicate with the mech, then launched himself at the snake with all his might. He didn’t use a gun, but a shield and a short blade—it’s said that to kill a snake, you must strike its vital spot. Inside the mech, Zhou Zhi had no fear of venom, nor of the snake crushing the machine into scrap; absolute safety was assured. All he needed to do was seize the opportunity to defeat the snake.

The facts proved that a mech's combat ability far surpassed that of any human in single combat—even the most elite warrior would struggle to escape unscathed from a beast like this. With one hand gripping the snake’s head and the other driving his blade into its weak spot, Zhou Zhi ended the battle in just five minutes—and this was only his first test.

Upon returning to the living quarters, Yu Chi Ankang immediately had the recorded footage sent to Director Sun, along with an introduction to the mech’s features. One year after the project began, the first mech was officially unveiled. Its debut was nothing short of sensational—the edited footage was broadcast on endless loops, with TV anchors excitedly proclaiming this as a new hope for humanity. Yu Chi Ankang paid no heed to the news; there were still many problems to solve, no time for rest, and the second mech was about to be completed, requiring further tests.

The emergence of the mech triggered a worldwide uproar. Western nations expressed grave concerns, claiming that Country Z now possessed weapons of mass destruction and calling for sanctions. Other countries quietly sought to purchase a mech, hoping to reverse-engineer it and acquire the technology. Country Z remained composed, replying, “Sorry, we only have this one.” When pressed about earlier models, they insisted those were merely large prototypes. As for technology transfer, it wasn’t a state asset, but personal property—even the state couldn’t buy it if the owner refused. When asked for the names of the engineers, they simply stated, “Sorry, they have rights too. We cannot disclose their identities.”

There was no harsh condemnation. Over the past year of mech development, mutated animals had appeared worldwide, though the disaster in Country Z was the most severe. Now, the world’s foremost concern wasn’t the economy, but mutated creatures; people feared eating animal meat, wondering if it would trigger mutations, and what symptoms might follow. In the midst of such chaos, the military situation was equally perilous—Country Z, vast and mighty, found itself beset on all sides.

Neighboring nations eyed Country Z hungrily, and their puppet state, Country F, was the first to make a move, massing troops at the border and attempting to cross the sea. Unfortunately, the crossing was easier said than done. Watching the news, Yu Chi Ankang shook his head. Sometimes, the greed of his compatriots inadvertently did some good—for example, fish farmers along the border rivers, desperate to increase yield, dumped all sorts of chemicals into the water. Though nets surrounded the farms, the tides eventually carried the substances out to sea, causing marine life to mutate. Now, crossing the sea or river was no simple matter. Was this, perhaps, a blessing in disguise?

“Kangkang, here’s the latest data.” Zhu Anfu handed over a summary compiled from the researchers’ reports. “98.9. Not bad, much improved over V5.”

“Seems promising. Once this system stabilizes, let’s overhaul V5. When the third mech is ready, we’ll test them together.” Yu Chi Ankang pulled Zhu Anfu down to sit beside him, and they discussed the news.

“I never used to pay attention to the news,” Zhu Anfu said, rolling his eyes. “There’s hardly anything genuine—just endless fluff, and maybe one or two useful pieces at best. I don’t like scrolling through online news either; there’s more useful information, but even more darkness.” He accepted some beef jerky from Yu Chi Ankang. “TV news makes a big fuss over things but is slow to deliver. Take wage increases: they kept reporting for months about raising salaries for companies and retirees, but it took forever to happen. Meanwhile, public servants and state workers, whose wage hikes weren’t publicized, got their raises first.”

Yu Chi Ankang only smiled without reply. Right now, they had no salary, but still worked tirelessly. Or rather, their pay had been converted from cash to all manner of vouchers, plus gold bars and jade. This was Wang Fei and Jin She’s suggestion to Zhou Zhi: if a zombie apocalypse came, money would be worthless. At first, the higher-ups disagreed, but perhaps due to rapid inflation, they finally consented, offering platinum and silver; gold was harder to obtain.

Few workers in the factory were elderly, but when they received their bars of gold and silver, they were stunned. Once they understood the young people’s discussions, they quietly stashed the precious metals away—these might be life-saving assets someday.

Yu Chi Ankang and Zhu Anfu didn’t want gold or silver, choosing jade instead; after all, jade was said to nurture the wearer, while gold and silver had no such reputation. Jin She only asked for jade once—a bracelet. After wearing it, she never requested more. Zhou Zhi, meanwhile, readily handed over his “salary” for Jin She to manage, a responsibility she accepted only after much deliberation.

Zhu Anfu was delighted with Jin She and Zhou Zhi’s relationship. There were a few others in the factory with the surname Zhou, but none compared to Zhou Zhi—perhaps it was a matter of first impressions, but Zhu Anfu simply thought they were a good match. Wang Fei and Zhao Long clamored for Zhou Zhi to treat everyone to a meal. Zhu Anfu commented that while Zhou Zhi’s cooking was decent, it still fell short of Yu Chi Ankang’s.

Since returning from the future, it seemed they had been endlessly busy—always with the mechs. Now, suddenly hearing such good news, the crowd was quick to join in the teasing. Jin She responded calmly, saying it was nothing to make a fuss about; after all, relationships were perfectly normal, not some celebrity scandal requiring paparazzi. This left everyone sheepishly scratching their noses.

When the third mech passed inspection, new unrest broke out—the rumored zombies had truly appeared. No one knew where the first zombie came from, nor could anyone confirm if it had originated from mutated animals.

With the emergence of zombies, Yu Chi Ankang, who had always kept a close watch on outside events, immediately ordered Zhou Zhi to stop supplying external materials. He also asked Director Sun if he wanted to inspect the factory. Yu Chi Ankang held Director Sun in high regard; the old man’s contributions to the nation and to science inspired deep respect, and Yu Chi Ankang wished to protect him. But the offer was politely declined.

Three days after cutting off supplies, the authorities—through Director Sun—issued a directive to the factory: the mechs were to be deployed to counter the zombie attacks. The zombies were multiplying too quickly; many defenders had already been turned. The situation was dire; hope now rested on the mechs.

Upon receiving the order, Zhou Zhi quickly convened a meeting to solicit opinions. Some passionately insisted they should help, while others, more composed, analyzed the situation and advised against involvement—unless it was for neighboring areas. Yu Chi Ankang and Zhu Anfu left the decision to Zhou Zhi: whether to help or not, and whether the factory staff would stay or leave, was up to the individual. Most workers had lost their families, but some still had homes. When the factory stopped distributing supplies, those with families grew uneasy. Yu Chi Ankang and Zhu Anfu observed this in silence, but at the meeting, they finally spoke up: anyone wishing to leave could do so, but this was not a sanctuary—once you left, don’t come back with a crowd seeking refuge. They were not saints; the apocalypse did not oblige them to help everyone unconditionally or open their doors to future trouble. It might sound harsh, but better this than both sides suffering awkwardness later.

Few chose to leave. Zhou Zhi took two new mechs and departed, heading not far—to Aerospace City. If it weren’t so close, and if it weren’t already a base, he wouldn’t have gone, for suddenly, many high-ranking officials had gathered there. The reason was obvious: Aerospace City housed the largest military presence outside one other location, was sparsely populated, and most residents were the families of staff, plus a few who had sought shelter and stayed. Even combined, their numbers didn’t equal a small county’s population. Even if zombies appeared, they could be quickly contained. Naturally, the leaders would come.

Meanwhile, Yu Chi Ankang and Zhu Anfu led those who stayed in the factory to move everything from the living quarters down another level, into the laboratories. The research team had developed these rooms, storing vegetables and even cultivating a small plot of land. Everyone moved their beds and whatever else was useful downstairs, filling every container with water. Wang Fei and Zhao Long organized soldiers for guard duty, assigned shifts, and took teams upstairs at set times to check the situation and relay messages to Zhou Zhi. The factory remained orderly, while Zhou Zhi brought two mechs into Aerospace City.

Author’s Note: It’s almost here; there’s so much to do—sorry for keeping everyone waiting so long.

Today is the beginning of spring. Did you have your spring feast? Did you eat spring pancakes?