MPWATMBC Chapter 78

The Imperial research centers didn’t undergo a transformation after Ryan became the acting executive director. On the contrary, his appointment seemed to breed a sense of complacency and disengagement among many. Various voices of dissent gradually emerged within the institute.

It’s just nepotism. If he weren’t General Auston’s partner, how could he have reached this position?

He hasn’t even fully grown up yet, and he wants to lead us? I’ve been working here for thirty years!

Hasn’t done anything, hasn’t suffered, and suddenly a young master is parachuted in.

Sigh, talent unrecognized, the world’s changed, and connections matter more than ability.

……

Ryan, who had requisitioned the C-Block 001 laboratory, sat behind the control console, watching the murmurs of the group below. He smiled without speaking. He activated the light screen and swiped his hand across it. The stacked blueprints quickly unfolded, and he rapidly flipped through them, making final adjustments. Once everything was in order, he decisively disassembled the blueprints, splitting them into 1,666 units, each containing between 30 and 360 individual sheets of fragmented designs. These 1,666 units covered every component for the construction of three mechas and would be distributed among more than a hundred teams to start the building process simultaneously. He was preparing to mobilize a third of the institute’s personnel—over 1,500 people—into the project.

Since the unveiling of the beast-type mecha, it had quickly captured public attention due to its remarkable advantages. However, its high production costs, long manufacturing cycle, and demanding requirements for pilots were seen as the biggest obstacles to its widespread adoption. Now, the interim government had tasked the Mecha Research Institute with a new mission: produce two or more beast-type mechas, calculate production time and costs, evaluate the production expenses, timeline, and the potential impact of their use. This would help determine whether additional investments should be made in the project.

If it fails, the beast-type mecha will be shelved.

On Ryan’s first day as acting executive director, his desk was already piled with a formidable task. This wasn’t just a test for him, but for the entire Mecha Research Institute. Whether Master McAryan’s research would gain government support and be officially deployed in combat hinged on this one decision.

Creating a mecha wasn’t a simple task. From blueprint design to the production of individual components, to adjusting the neural central system compatibility, and finally, to the extensive debugging process… the entire project was a massive undertaking. Fortunately, Ryan stood on the shoulders of giants. The concepts proposed by Emperor Qin Feng Anderson and the blueprints designed by Gauss McAryan were his greatest assets—though it still felt a bit strange to stand on his own shoulders.

Contrary to what others had expected, Ryan didn’t spend a great deal of time designing the blueprints; he had no bottlenecks in this area.

After organizing the scattered blueprints on the light screen into neat piles, Ryan pressed the print button. The dedicated blueprint printer beside him began to operate, and amidst the faint squeaking sound, special yellowish paper was fed into the machine. Moments later, sheets of printed blueprints emerged. In just five or six minutes, a small stack of completed designs had piled up around him.

Meanwhile, the researchers from the C-001 lab, who were idly working in the corner, couldn’t help but keep an eye on Ryan. Hearing the sound of the machine, they were taken aback, and small murmurs started to spread.

“Is he printing blueprints?”

“You can tell from the sound—those are definitely the blueprints Master McAryan left behind. He must be planning to keep them for himself and study them thoroughly.”

“Do you think they’re his own designs?”

“How is that possible!”

“How could it not be possible…”

The researchers exchanged glances. Well, why not? They were aware of something the others didn’t—those working in C-001 knew well enough. It was Ryan who had resolved the issue of the neural central system compatibility, a problem that even Master McAryan had struggled with. Perhaps, just perhaps, Ryan really could independently build a new beast-type mecha without Master McAryan’s help. Maybe they were about to witness another miracle.

Once the blueprints were printed, Ryan called over the lab’s lead researcher. “Activate all three test benches, gather all the materials for the neural central system, and begin the production of the beast-type mecha’s neural central system tomorrow.”

“What?” The lead researcher shouted in astonishment.

Ryan maintained a constant smile on his face. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re planning to make three neural central systems at once?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nearly impossible.” For many, the beast-type mecha was a completely new concept. Even though they had worked on it once before, it still felt unfamiliar. The neural central system for the beast-type mecha was far more complex than that of regular humanoid mechas, with far more challenges to overcome. Making just one was already enough to make most people lose half their hair. If they were to make three, the few remaining strands of hair on many people’s heads would surely flee in terror.

Undergoing a genetic hair transplant was quite expensive.

Ryan’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, as if building the beast-type mecha wasn’t difficult at all for him. “If you haven’t tried it, you can’t say it’s impossible. This is exactly the attitude that holds you back.”

“You misunderstood,” the lead researcher quickly clarified. “Our attitude is always to face challenges head-on, never giving up easily.”

“Then, do you still doubt?”

“But…”

“No buts,” Ryan’s smile was firm and confident, the kind of confidence that could inspire others. As he calmly smiled, the hesitant attitude of the lead researcher began to fade, and from deep within, an unexpected feeling arose—the need for this younger man to acknowledge and praise him. “As the researchers of this lab, your task right now is to follow my lead, and I will lead you to achieve miracles.”

“Yes!” The lead researcher responded loudly, stepping back from the console. As he walked away, the strange, passionate excitement began to cool, and by the time he had walked four or five meters, he suddenly stopped and turned to look at Ryan. He found that Ryan was already immersed in his work, his face still wearing that unshakable, confident smile, as if he wasn’t at all bothered by the difficult situation they were facing.

What a strong young man, both inside and out!

The lab director couldn’t help but admire Ryan. He was a leader who could motivate people and dispel their concerns without needing to resort to impassioned speeches. From that moment on, the director decided to cooperate fully with Ryan. With his hair transplant costing him a hefty 100,000 star coins, he swore that by following Ryan, he would witness a miracle.

However, Ryan’s challenges weren’t only coming from the pressure of his superiors; he also had to deal with uncooperative subordinates.

He was too young, had little experience, few achievements, and to those with more seniority, it seemed impossible for him to gain their respect. To newcomers, he lacked a solid foundation. After sending notices to department heads via their personal terminals, only a few responses came in from the hundreds of departments. Ryan smiled indifferently. This direct attitude was far easier to handle. Back when he had just entered politics as Qin Feng Anderson, the obstacles he faced in office were far more devious—hidden knives behind smiles and killing without bloodshed. On the surface, people would agree to cooperate, but in reality, they would be passive, working behind the scenes to undermine progress. The most troublesome ones were those who outwardly complied but quietly obstructed things, and when questioned, they would claim to have done their part. Indeed, some results would be produced, but they were far from expectations. Qin Feng had also encountered the back-and-forth of blame-shifting, procrastination, and passing the buck. A task that should have been completed in three days would end up taking a month, and upon investigation, it would turn out that everyone had done their own part, and no one was at fault.

The direct refusal from his researchers seemed almost endearing compared to the seasoned bureaucrats he had dealt with in the past.

As for the lack of cooperation from department heads, it didn’t matter. He was now the executive director, albeit temporarily. But the powers he held were the same, and he could easily assign personnel to his beast-type mecha production team. Being able to work on cutting-edge mecha technology was a dream for many.

The door to C-001 lab opened quietly, and a cylindrical robot entered, causing no more stir than usual. Even if it did catch some attention, what was the big deal? It was just a robot, after all. The mecha research center had countless similar robots—used for moving materials, delivering documents, and transmitting messages. They moved around people’s feet, and were so common that they often went unnoticed. People had become so used to them that they barely paid attention anymore.

The cylindrical robot entered, its headlight flashing twice before it moved toward the control console. As it approached the console’s steps, it extended two small auxiliary claws from its cylindrical body, lifting itself onto the console and positioning itself at Ryan’s feet.

“Little Six (Xiao Liu)¹I have mentioned as Little Six in the previous chapter. Hereafter I will use the Chinese name ‘Xiao Liu’: “Good day, sir.”

“Hello, Xiao Liu.”

Xiao Liu’s headlight blinked twice again, signaling its system’s contentment. A small hole, about the size of a thumb’s nail, opened on its chest, revealing a connector that extended out. With a playful tone, Xiao Liu spoke, “All the data you need is inside.”

Ryan patted Xiao Liu’s round head twice. “Thank you, Xiao Liu.”

Xiao Liu replied, “It’s what I’m meant to do. I’m very happy to help, sir,” its headlight flashing twice in accompaniment.

Ever since Ryan had first visited the Imperial Mecha Research Center and selected Xiao Liu as a guide, he’d noticed something unique about its system. Each time he visited afterward, he’d ask Xiao Liu to lead the way, taking the opportunity to study its system. Over time, he discovered that Xiao Liu was a growth-type AI. It seemed that during its creation, the programmers had unintentionally added a few extra lines of code, which gave Xiao Liu the ability to “think independently.” It was like a little AI that was secretly growing on its own.

Ryan accessed Xiao Liu’s system and made a few adjustments to encourage its growth. He was curious to see how this “wild” growth-type AI would evolve over time. So far, Xiao Liu’s changes had not disappointed him. After transferring the information Xiao Liu had gathered into his holographic brain, Ryan rewarded Xiao Liu by allowing it to access the network in C-001. He even found a mentor for Xiao Liu on the Starnet, and both Yuan Chu and Code Zero were pleased to welcome a little “brother” into their fold.

Xiao Liu’s headlight flashed excitedly, and it even spun around in place to express its joy. Ryan noticed that Xiao Liu was quite an “emotional” AI, a detail that he hadn’t expected but found amusing. He gestured for Xiao Liu to stay put and surf the internet while he turned his attention to the information it had gathered.

Ryan wasn’t surprised by Xiao Liu’s data collection ability. Robots, especially those with independent thinking capabilities, were excellent at gathering information. Back in the day, when Qin Feng’s cousin, Qin Hao, worked at the Intelligence Bureau, Ryan had suggested using robots for intelligence gathering. It turned out that the unobtrusive presence of robots made them perfect for eavesdropping, provided their systems were slightly modified. For someone as talented and diligent as Qin Feng, it had been an easy feat.

Only the handful of people involved in this knew the full story, to avoid raising suspicion or panic among others.

Ryan’s fingers flew across the holographic screen with lightning speed, leaving behind afterimages. The data Xiao Liu had gathered was vast and complex, and without help, Ryan had to manually sift through and extract the useful information. He’d called upon Yuan Chu for assistance, but breaking through the Imperial Mecha Research Center’s firewall would take time, and Yuan Chu couldn’t make it in time. Uploading the data to the network was out of the question, though. The sheer volume of it would easily be detected during transmission, and Ryan wasn’t about to make a glaring mistake like that. He preferred to operate with subtlety, keeping everything below the radar.

Ryan knew that there was no choice but to rely on his own efforts for now. As his brain worked like a supercomputer, he organized the valuable information he had gathered while sending out a series of orders.

In Material Synthesis Lab 3, Leonard, who had been working there for ten years, let out a heavy sigh. Day after day, year after year, he had been stuck in the same monotonous work, slowly watching his own time slip away. He was eager to improve, but his clumsy speech and lack of influence had left him in the shadows, watching others rise while he remained in the dusty corner. The once-passionate young man had long since faded, and now he was just looking forward to returning home after work to spend time with his wife and children. Though the job offered little promise of advancement, it paid well enough to allow him a comfortable life—a hundred-square-meter apartment in Adam City, enough to support his children’s education and occasionally indulge in romantic outings with his wife.

Ding-ding.

The notification sound from his personal terminal broke his reverie. Leonard raised his arm to check the message, and the dull expression on his face gradually shifted. The stagnant look in his eyes began to ripple with a spark of something more. He held that posture, that emotion, for a full minute before his trembling fingers reached out and pressed the button. After accepting the transfer order, he exhaled a long sigh, only to realize his forehead was slick with sweat, and his back was soaked. He let out a quiet laugh, half-amused, half-nervous, as he stood up, pushing open the door to the leadership office. As the door closed behind him, it cut off the curious gazes of his colleagues, sealing away the mystery of what was to come.

Not long after, Leonard emerged from the office again. He quickly packed up a few belongings, preparing to leave.

“Leonard, are you quitting? Don’t do this, old buddy!” One of his colleagues called out. “At least we still have our salaries.”

But Leonard stood tall, a newfound confidence radiating from him, as if he had rediscovered the passion and drive he once had when he first entered the research institute.

“No, I’ve been transferred to the Beast-type Mecha Production Project’s Materials Application Team. I’m reporting for duty now.”

“What?” His colleagues were stunned, unable to believe what they had just heard.

Leonard looked at them with a grin and said, “I’ll be back after finishing the project I’m working on. And remember, don’t water my cactus too much. They’re desert plants.”

With that, Leonard turned and walked out of the office, leaving behind a room full of astonished coworkers, their minds still reeling from the unexpected news.

In the astonished and disbelieving gazes of his colleagues, Leonard straightened his back and walked out. On his way, he encountered others who had received temporary transfer orders. Their eyes met in the air—some were anxious, some hesitated—but there was a noticeable spark of confidence and hope in many. To be part of the Beast-type Mecha production was a dream come true. If the mechas succeeded, their names would surely be recorded in the institute’s history. Danger and opportunity went hand in hand, but they had made their choice—to follow Ryan.

In the materials distribution break room, Jasmine stared in disbelief at her personal terminal. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, afraid she had misread something. Meanwhile, the chatter of her colleagues filled her ears—gossip about who had broken up, who had been caught in embarrassing situations, and of course, more whispers about someone getting a position through connections. This last topic was the one that stirred the most disdain among the truly skilled. People who prided themselves on their talent couldn’t stand those who relied on connections. It was seen as exploiting others’ resources. To them, someone who had risen through such means was unworthy, especially if they now found themselves in positions above others.

“That person must be one of those,” one of her colleagues remarked.

The few people chatting in the break room exchanged knowing glances, their conversation growing more and more absurd.

“There’s no need to be so subtle now. I agree that Ryan must have used General Dalton’s connections to become a disciple of Master McAryan and then to be appointed as our executive director. Ugh, it’s really disgusting.”

“I didn’t expect General Dalton to be like that.”

“Tsk, tsk, Ryan must have some extraordinary qualities to have gotten this far.”

As they continued gossiping, their discussion veered off course, spiraling further into inappropriate, taboo topics. It was the kind of idle chit-chat that always shifted aimlessly, one topic leading to another. From Ryan, they moved on to General Dalton, then to their dissatisfaction with the government, and from there to high-level policy debates, all while casually recounting the personal affairs of people they knew. The conversation, once innocent, had taken a darker turn.

Some of them glanced over in the direction of Jasmine and said with a pout, “Some people are just lucky, they have a good memory and that’s how they get in.”

“Exactly. A person who graduated from an ordinary liberal arts college is managing the materials for the mechas with us. She’s lazy and greedy, and she doesn’t even bother to dump the dirty water here.”

“You guys know what I mean. She has connections. I saw her talking to that guy from the mold manufacturing department, Pound. The way she looks at him… it’s so flirtatious.”

“Do you think she’s slept with a few people since she joined?”

Jasmine, who was shy and reserved by nature, stood up with a flushed face. Her large gray skirt almost covered her entire feet. Wearing black-rimmed glasses, she was breathing heavily in anger, and her chest heaved beneath the clothing, unable to be concealed. Her coworkers began to show their smug smiles again. Jasmine noticed a large bucket of dirty water in the corner—the water left after mopping the floor. She had cleaned the rest of the room, wiped the furniture, and arranged the flowers. But she was so tired that she hadn’t emptied the dirty water in time, which led to criticism from her colleagues. She always thought she lacked experience and had a low education, needing to learn from her seniors, but all she received was cold remarks from others. In a burst of frustration, she grabbed the dirty water bucket and threw it out.

Amidst the screams of her colleagues, Jasmine turned and left. She walked nervously toward the meeting room, not daring to strike up a conversation with anyone heading in the same direction. The door to the meeting room was wide open, and there were already four or five hundred people inside, from various departments. The atmosphere was somewhat stifling. Although people were talking, it was clear that no one dared to speak loudly. Jasmine casually found a spot to stand. She was fiddling with her personal terminal when she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t responded to the order before leaving, so she quickly brought up the directive and pressed the reply button. Once she did, she felt a sense of relief and had time to let her mind wander, thinking about a jumble of random thoughts.

By 4:30 PM, thirty minutes after Leonard had arrived and twenty minutes after Jasmine had entered the meeting room, the door that had been left open finally closed. The countdown for replying to the directive ended, and the button turned gray. A tall and slender figure appeared on the podium. He looked so composed, confident, and at ease, as if nothing could pose a challenge to him. Ryan stood on the podium, smiling at everyone. His friendly and approachable smile didn’t make him seem easy to manipulate; on the contrary, it carried an unspoken sense of authority that made many in the room lower their heads, including Jasmine, who was particularly sensitive to people’s emotions.

“Everyone gathered here proves that you know what you need to do and are willing to follow my orders. From the moment you replied to the directive, there is no chance for regret. Any objections should remain in your hearts. If I hear you protesting or cursing behind my back, you’ll be fired immediately!” Ryan’s gaze swept over the room, and no one dared to meet his eyes defiantly. When the directive was issued, he had given a choice. In the end, 1,200 directives were sent out, and 720 people showed up. The number was a bit low, but still over half, which was acceptable. If managed well, the team’s full potential could be utilized, and the task would definitely be completed. This was a good start. Once you accepted his directive, you were expected to follow his command. Defying his orders would result in more than just leaving the research institute. He would make sure that those lacking professional ethics would no longer survive in this field. Reality was cruel, and power was indeed formidable.

“Enough talk. Let’s get to the point.” Ryan, who appeared gentle on the surface, was always decisive and direct. After a brief opening remark, he moved straight into the main agenda. He called up the head of C-001 Laboratory, the overall coordinator for the beast-type mecha project, to come forward and begin the registration process according to the team division he had set up. Before the official list of participants was announced, Ryan said, “Starting tomorrow, you’ll be working at the new office location, and temporary work permits will be handed out to everyone. I expect to see a positive, hardworking attitude from all of you. Laziness, sloppiness, and procrastination will not be tolerated!”

Ryan’s words were not harsh, and his smile never faded, but everyone in the room felt an undeniable sense of obedience. Some leaders simply had a presence that made others too intimidated to defy them—no one dared to voice any objections.

“Work according to the tasks I’ve assigned. If you encounter any problems during research or work, please compile them daily, and each group leader will report to the main coordinator. Every half month, we will hold a collective seminar where everyone is free to speak their mind.” With expectations come rewards. Ryan was always clear about rewards and punishments. “Those who perform well will be generously rewarded with bonuses, promotions, and the institute will assist outstanding individuals with securing local residency for their families on Capital Star.” Among those working and studying on Capital Star, very few actually have local residency. If one were to acquire it, they would enjoy far more convenience.

A murmur spread through the crowd, a hum of anticipation for a better life. Ryan did not stop them, allowing the discussions to continue. He wanted a lively, energetic atmosphere, and in the future, everyone would realize that the seminar would never allow any dullness.

By the time all tasks were allocated, it was already 6:00, well past Ryan’s usual quitting time. Though he had informed Auston in advance, he still couldn’t help but hurry, eager to go home. When he reached the small starship docking area, he saw the familiar black ship. The golden Crusader emblem on the door emitted a solemn and dignified glow in the night. Auston was standing at the hatch, holding two-and-a-half-month-old Tuan Tuan in his arms. The little one had grown very well—eating and drinking well—his neck now strong enough to lift, allowing him to rest comfortably against his father’s chest and gaze at the world. His little hand was being held by his father as he waved at the approaching father. Tuan Tuan yawned disrespectfully, not at all cooperative in offering a welcome sound.

The child didn’t, but Auston did. He looked at the approaching man and smiled brightly.