"If the apple was the most delicious poison for Adam and Eve, then the Light Computer and Mecha were the dreamland that haunted Mu Fan's soul. In the deep night, he fantasized about driving the steel monster that belonged to men, imagined having a Light Computer to communicate with others. But upon awakening, with the tattered blanket over him and touching his empty stomach, reality pulled him back.
But today, Mu Fan, who never slept in, was wrapped in a threadbare blanket, sleeping soundly in the corner! He only woke when the glaring light of the star shone upon his face!
In a jolt, Mu Fan looked to the right, where the Black Egg lay quietly.
"It's not a dream!" Mu Fan recalled talking to Black Egg last night. Upon realizing that his long-held wish was within reach, he felt his heart about to leap out of his chest. As Black talked about the necessary components, he drooled dreamily about the future, falling asleep without knowing when Black stopped talking.
"Black!"
"Host dear." The familiar voice emanated from the Black Egg.
"Call me Mu Fan from now on! You'll be my friend from now on!"
"Alright, Mu Fan." Black paused as if accepting a new definition or savoring the concept of friendship.
Mu Fan used a shell to scoop somewhat cleaner rainwater from the nearby cistern, washed his face, and said to Black, "Which part do you need most now? I'll find it for you!"
"Light Computer," Black replied quickly.
"What? Light Computer? Aren't you a Light Computer?" Mu Fan's head throbbed. Even the lowest-grade Light Computer cost fifty thousand Star Coins. Where could he get that money?
"Correction, I am a supercomputer AI, codenamed Black, not a Light Computer. I can exist within any carrier and need a Light Computer to access the current interstellar network, update the database storage, and transform my current form."
"Light Computer, Light Computer. Fine, I'll go earn some money!" Mu Fan gritted his teeth after hearing Black's response.
"Black, you'll have to bear with it." He didn't wait for Black's opinion and piled up a bunch of miscellaneous scrap over it.
"Black will enter sleep self-diagnosis correction mode, please, wake after obtaining the Light Computer." The electronic voice from the scrap heap sounded but lacked emotion; Black had entered self-diagnosis.
The sky seldom showed color, still a greyish haze with small transport ships occasionally passing overhead. The suburban highway saw Floating Cars whizzing past occasionally.
From the factory to the town was thirty kilometers. The journey began in desolation, through dilapidation, to lively, and finally to bustling, forming a stark contrast. Mu Fan ran for more than an hour, yet showed no sign of breathlessness when entering the town.
Mu Fan's goal this time was very clear: first, to ask Old Bard, the owner of Bard's Grocery Store in District 22. He often helped in the store previously. Old Bard was kind and frequently gave Mu Fan some rice balls and even some pay. This time he wasn't planning to work but to ask if the old man had any advice—he needed money.
District 22 wasn't big but was unusually lively inside. As Mu Fan walked, people automatically kept a meter distance from him, his ragged appearance clearly marking him as an outsider. The self-professed noble city folks feared ridicule for coming too close.
Passing the entrance of Huali Food City, Mu Fan swallowed his saliva; walking further ahead, Xiuzhe Equipment Store, reputedly one of the best outdoor equipment stores in District 22, showed off well-crafted daggers and combat uniforms in its display window. His eyes showed envy while his fists clenched tighter.
Turning right at the intersection ahead, past a grocery store, he finally arrived at Old Bard's grocery store.
"Uncle Bard," Mu Fan politely greeted the Old Bard lounging behind the counter, smoking low-quality tobacco leisurely.
"Oh, isn't this little Mu Fan~ You finally have time to see this old man, haven't you? More than a month since your last visit," Bard exclaimed, seeing Mu Fan, puffing on his cigarette with a cheerful expression.
"Earlier I was working outside the city and couldn't find time to come downtown; this time I'm here to consult with you," Mu Fan nodded in response.
"What's up, little Mu Fan, come in, have a seat, whatever Old Bard knows, I'll let you know." Bard truly liked this sensible and hard-working kid from the bottom of his heart.
"Uncle Bard, I want to know how I can make money the fastest?" Mu Fan's clear eyes looked at the old man.
"Money? How much do you need? Why ask suddenly?" Old Bard was surprised. He knew Mu Fan's situation, that his wages barely filled his stomach, combined with his occasional book purchases, making ends meet tight. Even so, Mu Fan hadn't asked about quick money-making methods before.
"Did you run into trouble? How much do you need? Old Bard still has some savings," Bard sincerely wanted to help the kid within his ability.
"Thank you, Uncle Bard. It's a bit different this time; I need a Light Computer, so I must earn the money. I can't take your money. I came to consult with you," Mu Fan politely declined Bard's goodwill.
"Well." Bard exhaled a smoke ring, "Little Mu Fan, you've worked here many times before; there's a way to make more money. I know you're strong, but I want you to consider it carefully."
"What's the method?"
"Martial Arts Hall, sparring partner!" Bard looked at Mu Fan seriously. "To say it plainly, you'd be the punching bag! The longer you endure, the higher your income! However, I must caution you, be very mindful of your safety; some people strike hard. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
"Thank you, Uncle Bard." Mu Fan's eyes lit up, and he bowed deeply to the old man.
"Don't thank me. Come find me if you can't stick it out," Bard waved his hand.
"Okay, I'll be off then," Mu Fan said, lifting his head and turning, striding away.
"Hey, you little brat, wrong direction, wrong direction!"
Mu Fan staggered, did a 180-degree turn, scratched his head, and laughed sheepishly.
...
In the northwest corner of District 22 stood a sprawling five-story building with a wooden plaque at the entrance—Star Fall Martial Arts Hall. In the interstellar era, humans needed to pilot and control various machinery, especially with the emergence of mecha, requiring higher physical fitness from humans. The Martial Arts Hall, combining the Martial Path and Fighting Skill into a comprehensive training facility, became popular once again with scientific advancement.
The parking bays were filled with Floating Cars, ranging from vehicles worth tens of thousands for civilians to high-end versions costing millions. Four strapping men in black Taoist robes stood at the entrance, adding an imposing aura to the building.
"Hey kid, what are you doing, move along if you've got nothing to do." One of the brawny men said harshly to Mu Fan, who walked straight over. From his greasy appearance, he couldn't be a normal customer.
"Is this Star Fall Martial Arts Hall? Do you need sparring partners?" Mu Fan fearlessly stared at the robust man before him.
"You? Hahaha, a punching bag? Yes! Follow me," he said and turned towards the hall.
Mu Fan followed the robust man, stepping for the first time into this area where the wealthy spent money. Upon entering, he saw at once that the grand hall's sides were inscribed with vigorous characters and paintings! Looking ahead was the incredibly spacious training ground behind reinforced glass. There were two-plus-meter-tall strength testing machines and rows of fitness training equipment inside. At this hour, there weren't many people in the field.
"Don't look, this is the ordinary training ground. Martial Arts Hall instructors aren't here; you punching bags are on the second and third floors," the man humorously said, looking at the taciturn kid in front of him. No newcomer had seen a Martial Hall and not been dumbstruck. This dumb kid didn't seem to realize being a punching bag isn't that easy? Recently, a young master, rumored to have come from Loga Star's central district, had arrived, hitting exceptionally hard, already maiming three punching bags.
"Thanks!"
"In a moment, you'll meet the middle manager of our Martial Arts Hall. A word of caution, kid, getting beaten to a pulp is common; once you sign up, there's no going back." The robust man was taken aback by this polite kid and dropped his teasing tone. The floating stairs dinged on the fourth floor, "Here we are; I'm Mankun, good luck."
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(PS: The title was too long and had to be truncated, here's a tribute for Alliance Hierarch Bai Yiduo's three updates!
Thanks to reader Liang Gong Xiaoyue for the reward)