Three beast-type mechas, with one of them already revealing its true form, is a white-winged lion beast. All the researchers present only had a part of the blueprints that Ryan had split up and didn’t know the final appearance of the mecha. It could be said that only Ryan knew what the mecha would look like in the end. Once the beast-type mecha was hoisted up, no one was not shaken by its majesty and might. With a shoulder height of six meters, a body length of twelve meters, and a wingspan of sixteen meters, the giant beast seemed to have come from the legendary primordial wilderness, exuding an indescribable power.
This is the charm of the beast-type mecha.
“All departments, take your positions and report on the monitoring status.” Standing at the control panel, Ryan raised the corners of his lips slightly, looking very satisfied with the white beast-type mecha, as there were no mistakes in its appearance now.
“Group A, ready. Data feedback is normal.”
“Group B, ready. The data network is fully operational.”
“Group C, ready. Monitoring the tail data, no response yet.”
“Group D, ready, …”
“Group E, ready, …”
Within ten minutes, all the teams reported their data. Some personnel, having worked for a long time, showed signs of fatigue, but as the groups reported one after another, their minds quickly returned to focus, diligently awaiting further developments.
Ryan’s calm and strong voice echoed, “The central nervous system is in place.”
“In place.”
Everyone quickly turned to look, and they saw a familiar face beneath a protective mask—it was Master McAryan, who had already retired. He nodded solemnly to the group, then turned his attention to the task at hand, as if he didn’t care at all that he was now “working for” Ryan. Although Master McAryan had retired and the Imperial Mecha Research Institute was fully entrusted to Ryan, that didn’t mean he had disengaged entirely. He continued to follow the construction process, astonished by Ryan’s method of team coordination, shocked by the way the blueprints were broken down, and even more surprised by the short duration of the build… After the shock, Master McAryan fell into deep thought, reflecting on his own years of following the rules and building step by step. He began to seriously consider the possibility of breaking the norms.
After his reflection, Master McAryan reluctantly admitted that he was a conservative person, bound by tradition, and his mindset had solidified over the years, forming a “tree of achievements” in his mind that could not be broken. But Ryan had shattered this “achievement tree.” Now, Ryan could create and shape whatever was needed with ease… Master McAryan even cast a doubtful glance at Ryan, wondering what kind of terrifying soul lay within the shell of this young man.
Humanity’s research on the soul has never stopped, but the secret of the soul has never been deciphered. The “soul dissipates upon death” theory, as concluded by scientists, is a widely accepted belief among the public.
Master McAryan, with his mask on, smiled helplessly and dismissed the chaotic thoughts in his mind. With the utmost focus that a researcher could have, he threw himself into his work. He was now responsible for the most critical and core part of the entire mecha—the installation of the central nervous system. A slight mistake could have severe consequences: at worst, it could result in the complete destruction of the mecha, rendering months of effort meaningless; at best, it would mean the need to redo the “central nervous system” installation, delaying the entire project and wasting everyone’s time.
Ryan: “Prepare for countdown. Enter installation mode in thirty seconds. Five, four, three, two, one—countdown begins!”
As his words fell, a large countdown projection appeared on the biggest wall of Laboratory C001: 30, 29, 28… 05, 04, 03…. Accompanying the bright red numbers was the echoing sound of the countdown throughout the lab, each note striking like a hammer against the heart. The chaotic heartbeats of the team gradually synchronized with the rhythm.
The number 01 appeared on the wall.
The countdown voice announced in unison: “1.”
“Alignment complete.”
“Calibration begins.”
Master McAryan stood at the control station, in front of him a live feed showing the “central nervous system” being slowly inserted into the core nest. This critical step could not be replaced by machines or artificial intelligence. It required manual operation of the mechanical arms, inch by inch, with painstaking precision. The alignment guides only ensured the general direction, but the final adjustment depended entirely on human effort.
“Calibration complete,” Master McAryan’s voice carried a note of exhaustion, yet he gritted his teeth and persevered, remaining unwavering in his focus until the task was fully accomplished.
Standing below, Ryan commanded calmly, “Engage.”
“Roger that.”
Master McAryan gripped the control lever in his hand and pressed down without hesitation.
Clack!
Snap!
The sounds in his ears were like celestial music. Half the weight lifted from Master McAryan’s chest, and only then did he realize how bent his once-straight back had become. His uniform clung to his sweat-soaked body, and beads of sweat streamed down his forehead, dripping into his eyes—yet he didn’t even have the strength to wipe them away. He raised his head and gazed upward, his mind momentarily blank.
A cylindrical metal rod, one and a half meters long and sixty centimeters in diameter, had been inserted into the back of the lion-beast’s core. With those two crisp sounds, the central nervous system—long anticipated—was successfully embedded into the mecha. Judging by the sounds, the 13,626 impact pins of the system’s interface should have aligned perfectly with their corresponding grooves. The keyword, however, was should, because until activation, no one could guarantee that every single pin had settled precisely into its designated position.
Now, all eyes turned to Ryan. With just a single command from him, the mecha would be activated. Success or failure—everything rested on this moment.
The massive beast-shaped mecha spread its wings wide, raising its noble head proudly. Its eyes remained closed, its immense jaws tightly shut, as if patiently waiting to be awakened. The white coating of the mecha was crafted from a deep-sea shell material resembling the ancient Earth giant clam, Tridacna. Through modern craftsmanship, the material had been refined and synthesized with others, resulting in a smooth, lustrous white—a color as light as the wind itself. Beyond aesthetics, this coating could block radar detection and blend into the surrounding light, making the mecha nearly invisible.
In Ryan’s mind, he envisioned Auston piloting this mecha with unparalleled elegance. A faint smile graced his lips, containing a warmth incomprehensible to onlookers. Then, in his steady and powerful voice, he commanded, “Activate.”
The activation button lay at his fingertips. Without a hint of hesitation, he pressed it.
A hum of electrical current surged through the room, and the beast-shaped mecha, with its intricate circuitry connected, opened its eyes. Its gaze, devoid of emotion, radiated the cold, unfeeling precision of machinery.
The tail swayed gently. The wing tips trembled faintly. The mecha’s retracted claws extended into sharp talons. At the head, the tightly sealed mouth appeared to part slightly, revealing teeth capable of shredding even the toughest of carapaces.
It succeeded.
It succeeded!
Even Ryan, typically composed, was overcome with excitement. This was the first mecha he had personally overseen, designed, and constructed—and it had succeeded. With the artificial intelligence ready to be integrated and a pilot stepping in, this mecha would soon be fully operational.
“Executive Director, the synchronization frequency has reached 95.1%,” the deputy reported excitedly as he approached Ryan, eager to deliver the good news.
For unmanned mecha tests, achieving a synchronization frequency of over 95% was a significant milestone. With a suitable pilot, it was almost certain to exceed 97%—a conclusion drawn from years of experience.
Ryan nodded. “Thank you all for your hard work today. Tomorrow, we’ll begin assembling the second unit.”
The deputy looked at Ryan in confusion. “Executive Director?” This wasn’t what they had initially planned.
“Working while fatigued won’t improve efficiency,” Ryan explained apologetically. “It was an oversight on my part.”
Those who had been silently harboring resentment due to prolonged tension suddenly felt their frustrations melt away. Many began reproaching themselves for their earlier complaints, feeling guilty for internally blaming the Executive Director—it was entirely unwarranted.
“That’s it for today,” Ryan continued. “I’ve already arranged for the cafeteria to prepare a delicious meal for everyone. The dormitories have been cleaned and are ready for you. After dinner, you can all get some rest. Once you’re recharged, we’ll reconvene here tomorrow at the same time to start assembling the second mecha.”
His words dispelled any lingering grumbles about staying the night, and the team readily accepted the plan. Whether Ryan had orchestrated this solution in advance or improvised on the spot, it was both swift and effective. Those prone to overthinking considered it briefly but said no more.
As the researchers gradually exited the lab, Ryan stayed behind, helping the exhausted yet elated Master McAryan out of the room.
“Ryan, you’ve broken many conventions.”
“I may have been overly bold.”
Shaking his head, Master McAryan countered, “No. When failures break conventions, it’s called recklessness. But when a success does so, it’s a breakthrough, an innovation, a new chapter in history.”
He listed one praise after another, a testament to his genuine admiration for Ryan.
Ryan smiled modestly. “You flatter me, Master. I merely made some minor adjustments.”
“Modesty, modesty.”
Ryan didn’t argue further, knowing that any more words would shift from humility to false modesty. The truth was, he had indeed pioneered a new method for producing mechas at the Imperial Mecha Research Institute. His innovations had increased efficiency, significantly shortened production time, and even reduced the assembly process to a single day—a feat, considering it used to take at least a week to assemble just one unit.
“I merely coordinated the overall process,” Ryan continued, diverting the credit. “The key to this achievement lies in everyone’s collaboration and effort. Without a highly efficient team, this pace would have been impossible.”
He added with genuine praise, “We are fortunate to have an exceptionally talented group of researchers who have grown into a highly skilled and cohesive team.”
Master McAryan shook his head silently, withholding his thoughts. He had reviewed the composition of Ryan’s project team, a group of individuals who were mostly obscure, unremarkable figures before working under Ryan. Yet, through his guidance and training, they had transformed into shining talents.
Turning his head slightly to observe Ryan, McAryan noted the gentle confidence radiating from the young man—a youth hiding countless secrets. Whether in mecha design or in understanding how to work with people, Ryan’s depth and sophistication were rare for someone his age.
“Ryan, it’s time to remove the ‘acting’ title,” McAryan said. It had been long overdue, but Ryan himself had objected, insisting on keeping the “acting” prefix before his title of Executive Director, making it appear as though his position lacked legitimacy.
Ryan responded with a calm smile, “Master, you know me. My ambitions don’t lie here.”
“You child,” McAryan chided, shaking his head. “You already have the opportunity for greater support and a larger stage. Isn’t this the perfect moment? Why are you still thinking of leaving?”
Ryan’s expression remained serene as he replied, “I’ve already secured the support I need. Whether I stay or go makes no difference.” He knew his influence had taken root so deeply that no one could undermine it now.
McAryan considered this for a moment and finally nodded. “You’re right.” The hundreds of people on the project team were destined to become the backbone of the research institute. Even if only a third of them remembered Ryan’s mentorship with gratitude, they would remain a powerful force supporting him in the future.
“To remain here means merely being an executive director. To step aside means becoming a legend.”
McAryan sighed and admitted, “I’m old now. My thoughts can no longer keep pace with you young people. Do whatever you want to do. For these old bones of mine, witnessing someone as extraordinary as you before I die is enough. I can leave this world without regrets.”
Ryan, unafraid to discuss death—having experienced it once—replied calmly, “Death might just be a new beginning, another journey.”
“Haha, then I’ll hope the heavens grant me another five hundred years!” McAryan joked with a hearty laugh.
Ryan offered his blessing, “May the heavens bless you.”
“Didn’t think you believed in that.”
“I don’t, I believe in myself.”
Their voices faded as they walked away, the sound of their conversation slowly swallowed by the closing laboratory doors. Behind them, the room fell silent, ready to reopen tomorrow when a new mecha would be assembled, another step in their historic endeavor.
By the time the first mecha was fully assembled, it was already past 7 p.m., and night had fallen. Outside, only the stars and the moon vied for brilliance in the dark sky. Like the regular researchers, Ryan didn’t head home. Instead, he settled his dinner in the cafeteria. His presence there made others somewhat restrained, so most finished their meals quickly and didn’t linger. After eating, Ryan took a can of cherries and returned to the dormitory—his first time staying there. The dorm was a single, sunny room on the first floor, complete with a private bathroom and a spacious balcony.
He opened the can of cherries, picked one out, and tossed it into his mouth. The taste was entirely different from fresh cherries—not bad, per se, but far from great. He could eat it, though, to make up for some vitamins.
“Ah~”
Ryan’s lips twitched uncontrollably as he noticed his holo-call had connected. On the other end, Tuantuan, seeing his daddy popping something into his mouth, instinctively opened his own little mouth and let out a sound of eager anticipation. Tuantuan was a little foodie, but he only begged for food from his dad or his papa. When facing anyone else, he was a proper little gentleman, serious and well-behaved.
“Let Tuantuan have a taste,” Auston said, barely containing his laughter.
Ryan caught on immediately, a mischievous glint in his eye. Smirking, he reached into the can, pulled out a cherry, and made it as if to feed it to Tuantuan through the screen. Tuantuan clapped his tiny hands in delight and called out, “Daddy~ Daddy!”
“You only call me when there’s food involved. I see now—your daddy isn’t worth more than a cherry.”
Tuantuan leaned forward eagerly, mouth wide open, “Ah.”
Ryan playfully pretended to toss the cherry into Tuantuan’s little mouth, but the holographic projection passed right through. “Tasty?”
Tuantuan frowned, chomping down on nothing but air. He quickly realized something was wrong and stomped his tiny foot in frustration. Turning around, he threw himself into Auston’s arms with a dramatic “Hmph!”
Ryan and Auston exchanged a glance, both suppressing laughter. Their little act had clearly upset Tuantuan, who now refused to show his face no matter how they coaxed him. Eventually, he peeked out just enough to shoot Ryan a side-eye, his cheeks puffed in exaggerated indignation. With a loud, dramatic “Hmph!” he made it clear he was thoroughly upset—so upset that only a real cherry could fix it.
Auston scooped Tuantuan up and sat him on his lap. The little one wiggled stubbornly, burying his face to avoid looking at Ryan.
Ryan sighed, holding up the cherry can and trying to soothe his son. “Cherry from the can doesn’t taste good. When Daddy comes home, I’ll bring you fresh cherries, okay?”
Tuantuan extended a tiny hand, still sulking but turning just enough to side-eye Ryan again. “I want it.”
“Alright,” Ryan relented with a soft smile. “Daddy will bring a cherry can home too. Deal?”
Tuantuan finally cheered up, though he wasn’t ready to forgive his dad just yet. He nodded with a hint of reluctance, his soft little double chin jutting out as he said, “Mmm, okay.”
Auston couldn’t help but reach up and pinch Tuantuan’s tiny nose. “I knew it. All you care about is food.”
“Papa~” Tuan Tuan responded, reminding them that he still knew who his father was.
Auston, with a heart full of affection, couldn’t stop smiling. With Tuantuan being so sweet, it didn’t matter if Ryan wasn’t home yet. Ryan had no choice but to swallow his jealousy—he might not have his son’s attention, but he still had Auston. “I’ll be home in two days. After resting for a bit, I’ll take you to the research institute to try out the mecha.”
Auston straightened up, opening his mouth to ask, “Do I… need to prepare for anything?”
“Well…” Ryan looked serious. “Prepare yourself…”
Auston waited eagerly.
Ryan grinned and finished, “Prepare to love me.”
Auston’s face immediately turned bright red. He quickly grabbed Tuantuan and used him to shield his face. Tuantuan blinked innocently, clearly not understanding why he was suddenly in this position.
“Mm.”
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh, his voice light. “I’ll apply for the two-winged lion mechas to be assigned to the Golden Crusade Legion.”
Auston’s face flushed a little less, and he gently placed Tuantuan down before turning to Ryan with a serious expression. “Is there anything you need me to do?” The mecha issue was crucial to a legion’s defensive power. Every legion wanted more mechas, and they submitted their applications to the council every year. But those applications were often met with little more than a fleeting response. With the new beast-type mechas—four in total (one made by McAryan, and three built under Ryan’s leadership)—half of them being allocated to the Golden Crusade Legion would surely stir up criticism. Auston didn’t want Ryan to become a target of widespread resentment.
Ryan’s expression remained calm, exuding confidence. He tapped his temple lightly and said, “With this,” he meant his mind, “mechas will keep coming. I doubt anyone would pass up such a lucrative deal with me.”
Compared to design, manufacturing mechas was hardly a challenge. The vast knowledge Ryan carried in his mind was his greatest asset. The designs he produced were nothing short of the empire’s most valuable treasure. Of course, he wouldn’t easily expose the full extent of his capabilities, but even the small glimpse revealed through the beast-type mecha project was enough to make his importance evident. Those in power, as long as they weren’t fools, knew exactly what choice to make.
Auston pondered for a moment, understanding Ryan’s train of thought. He nodded solemnly, his gaze steady. “You are not alone in this. Don’t push forward by yourself. You have me.”
Ryan’s smile softened, carrying a hint of warmth. “Don’t worry, I won’t put myself in harm’s way. There’s a saying in Huaxia, ‘A gentleman does not stand under a dangerous wall.’ I have you and Tuantuan—I won’t act recklessly.”
…
Over the next two days, under Ryan’s meticulous planning, the assembly of the remaining two beast-type mechas was completed. One of the winged lion mechas was pitch black, capable of blending seamlessly into any corner of the cosmos, a master of stealth. Standing next to the white one, they presented a striking contrast—black and white, complementing each other with a restrained majesty. Merely gazing at them was enough to make the faint-hearted tremble and fall silent in awe.
The third mecha, by contrast, was much smaller—a bat with a six-meter wingspan. Its size belied its capabilities. Nothing designed by Ryan was ever useless. This bat-type mecha was a gift he left for the empire to distribute. After all, since he was taking away the two winged lions, he had to leave something enticing in return.
The application for allocation had been submitted before assembly began. Ryan remained calm, confident that the outcome would meet his expectations.
When the assembly concluded, those who had worked tirelessly were rewarded with the pleasant surprise of double pay, sending them home in high spirits. Yet, what they gained went beyond mere monetary compensation. The intangible wealth of experience and pride in their work was something they would cherish for a lifetime.
Ryan returned home as well. Physically and mentally drained, he barely managed to embrace Auston before collapsing into bed. The intricate task of installing the “neural central units” of the two beast-type mechas, involving the connection of over 20,000 pins, had pushed even someone as capable as Ryan to his limits. He needed sleep to replenish the energy and strength he had expended.
Tuantuan stared wide-eyed as Daddy hugged Papa, then watched as Papa helped Daddy upstairs. And then… there was no “and then.” Daddy went upstairs, and Papa didn’t come back down. Left alone, Tuantuan decided to play with his toys. He was a child who could keep himself entertained.
Huh?
Sitting by the sunny floor-to-ceiling window, Tuantuan tilted his head. He remembered Daddy saying there would be cherries. Where was his jar of cherry preserves?
Tuantuan had an excellent memory, especially when it came to food—he never forgot anything tasty.
Tuantuan didn’t need to hold on to anything now. He could manage to stand up on his own. After getting to his feet, he started walking unsteadily. After five or six meters, he fell with a plop.
Falling to the ground, Tuantuan shook his little head and didn’t feel any pain. He stood up again and kept walking. He wouldn’t cry.
By his side, the nanny robot was constantly following him. Seeing the child fall, the robot, programmed with its settings, didn’t immediately help. This was a key moment in cultivating the child’s character—he couldn’t start wailing over a minor bump.
Climbing stairs was still a bit challenging for Tuantuan. He hadn’t attempted it independently before. Standing at the foot of the staircase, he puffed up his little cheeks and decided not to give up. He sprawled onto the stairs and started crawling upward, using both his hands and feet, chanting a determined “Heave-ho, heave-ho!” He absolutely couldn’t stop.
Halfway up, feeling a bit tired, Tuantuan turned his head to look back. The height startled him, and he instinctively leaned backward for balance—it was a bit high.
The nanny robot, watching over Tuantuan, spoke in a sweet voice, “Tuantuan, don’t be scared. I’ll protect you.”
Tuantuan nodded, “Mm-hmm.”
Resolutely turning his head back to avoid looking down, Tuantuan continued his “heave-ho” effort. After half an hour, he finally made it to the top. His efficiency wasn’t high because he spent more time resting, but wasn’t the result what mattered?
Tuantuan grinned widely, proud of accomplishing a “big task.” He urgently needed to share this achievement with Daddy. Skipping any rest, he placed his little hands on the floor, raised his bottom, and pushed himself into a standing position. Then, holding onto the wall for support, he slowly made his way to Daddy and Papa’s room.
Bang bang bang!
His little hands knocked on the door with surprising strength, producing loud sounds as he called out to the parents inside. Tuan Tuan’s childish voice rang out, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”
After waiting for a moment with no response, Tuantuan switched to calling, “Papa, Papa…”
Without cherries, he was calling without much enthusiasm, huffing softly in dissatisfaction.
Tuantuan knocked on the door but hit nothing but air. Looking up, he saw Daddy and immediately stretched out his little hands, “Carry me.”
What greeted Auston was a Tuantuan drenched in sweat. He bent down to pick him up and shut the door behind him with one hand. “Little messy child.”
Tuantuan shyly buried his face into Daddy’s shoulder.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up. Sweating so much—Tuantuan’s really impressive, climbing all the way upstairs on his own.”
Tuantuan knew he was being praised. He straightened his back, puffed out his little chest, and nodded vigorously. “Mm.” His sticky skin was making him uncomfortable too, but Tuantuan didn’t forget to make his little request, “Cherries.”
“All you think about is eating. Your daddy brought them for you—so tired but still made sure to bring you a treat.” Auston poked his son’s chubby little cheek. “You need to be good to your daddy, understand?”
Tuan Tuan nodded, “Okay.”
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152