Behind the ancient bell, the commerce spaceship Area 38 echoed with a loud noise. After some time, Xu Le, appearing dusty and dirty, meticulously assembled a group of steel components from these piles and sparks of electricity crawled along the circuit boards. The young man stood dumbfounded on a piece of machine armor, motionless for half a day. He absentmindedly felt his body with both hands, relieved to confirm that he hadn't been crushed by the heavy machine armor fragment. Apart from a few scratches and bruises, he escaped any serious injuries, but the lingering fear remained.
In an ancient dating system, 60 years held great significance, symbolizing an incredibly long period of time. The worn-out M02 machine armor had been sitting in this storage cabin for an unknown duration, at least 60 years since leaving the factory. The steel work, untouched by accelerated aging, had suffered damage in the past, rendering it extremely fragile. It was on the verge of disintegrating, not even becoming a pile of rubble. Xu Le was one of those buried under its weight.
With a pale complexion, Xu Le laboriously climbed over the scattered metal parts on the ground, finally reaching the wall's electric current outlet to plug in a charger. He followed the wall, circling around until he reached the small watermelon and couldn't bear to look at the ground.
The small watermelon was also frightened, her wide eyes staring into the empty space where the collapsing machine armor had been. Her mouth agape, she wore an expression of extreme cuteness, while the dirty doll slipped from her hand and fell to the floor.
Xu Le embraced the young girl in his arms, comforting her. Only then did he notice the machine armor fragments scattered on the ground, with many sharp metal sections. The fear resurfaced in his heart as he hoarsely uttered, "Mother, this isn't sturdy."
Although composed of an alloy composition, a primary anti-fatigue machine armor had endured 60 years of wear. It had suffered fatal damage, but it shouldn't have become so frail in appearance.
Xu Le's complaint wasn't unwarranted, yet he couldn't comprehend the reason behind the armor's deteriorated state. The strange vibrations that passed from his waist to his limbs, amplified by the sensors, exceeded the outdated machine armor's ability to withstand such intensity. Additionally, the youth's inadequate recovery over the past few days had weakened the joints of the machine armor, creating a startling contrast to its previous robustness.
Ignoring the actual reason for the machine armor's deterioration, the small watermelon found Xu Le's fearful remark amusing and burst into laughter. Her face no longer displayed any signs of fear. Xu Le scratched his head, smiled wryly, and led the small watermelon towards the cabin door through the ventilation duct, aware that the loud noise would have attracted many people to investigate.
Crawling through the dim and narrow pipeline, Xu Le occasionally nudged the small watermelon's delicate white shoes, feeling remarkably at ease, without any regrets.
Xu Le had only taken the initial step in personally restoring the M02, but he couldn't return to the abandoned storage cabin. He had finally developed an intimate connection with the machine armor, even though he had failed to become a machine armor soldier. To him, this worn-out machine armor was an exceptionally rare experimental material. Thus, he sighed and admitted that fixing precision machine armor in the crude environment with these makeshift materials was indeed a foolish thought.
Feng Yu's teachings in the past four years had influenced Xu Le in ways he didn't fully understand. As a machine repair master, he had always disregarded the machine armor that young male students idolized, considering them feeble-minded close-combat weapons in modern warfare, practically useless against a barrage of artillery fire. The only exceptions were their wide-range jumping capabilities. Machine armor... they were nothing more than ornaments. Although Xu Le hadn't acknowledged this concept in front of Uncle Seal during these years, it had unconsciously taken root in his mind. However, machine armor truly possessed grace.
...
...
After sealing the pipeline cover on the ceiling once again, the chaotic sound of footsteps reached the rear of the spaceship in Area 38. One by one, the cabin doors opened, revealing a group of more than ten young individuals wearing beige officer uniforms who quickly made their way inside. They had detected the source of the loud noise and sensed something amiss in this room.
The captain, with a gloomy expression, and his dedicated secretary separated from the crowd and approached the captain's position. He walked through the scattered machine armor fragments, occasionally examining metal plates or circuit boards emitting faint smoke. His expression grew increasingly serious as he bent down on the other side, picking up the dirty doll from the ground.
"The young lady was here just a moment ago," said the captain, his expression darker than before. The secretary glanced at him, lowered his head, and refrained from accusing the boss, while ignoring the abnormal computer warning about abnormal electrical output controlled by Yang.
The rotund captain wandered among the machine armor fragments, picking up metal plates and inspecting circuit boards emitting wisps of smoke. His complexion grew more solemn, and without turning back, he ordered, "Shift the search focus to Area 33 through Area 42. Collect all video recordings from the past few days and scrutinize the regions adjacent to this area. Look for any suspicious activity."
The captain looked up at the entrances of the nearby pipelines, his brow furrowed tightly. He continued, "Divide the team into electric discharge stun sticks and firearms. Find the young lady as quickly as possible."
The officers wearing brown military uniforms were visiting students from Westwood Military Academy. They represented the prestigious academy during their visit to the Eastwood Grand District, making them top prospects for leadership positions in the fourth military region. After hearing the captain's orders, they felt a strange sense of urgency. Searching for a six-year-old girl using firearms on a spaceship's equipment seemed excessive, but they didn't dare to question the captain's orders. Suppressing their excitement and exchanging anxious glances, they left the cabin, preparing for the search.
"Why use firearms?" the secretary whispered, approaching the captain's side. He lowered his voice, seeking an explanation. The captain, who had clearly discovered something crucial, appeared more anxious than before.
The captain's gaze fixed on the floor, focusing on the scattered machine armor fragments and peculiar modules. He said, a tinge of anger and sarcasm in his voice, "This worn-out machine armor has been sitting here for years, and I forgot. That person actually attempted to restore it... using parts from mining vehicles, Yukumoto artillery, and damn automatic scavenging machines..." The captain's tone expressed anger, mockery, and a touch of absurdity. "To fix machine armor with these things? This person is not a talent; he's a lunatic."
"Perhaps there's a touch of madness in that person's bones, but the movements of this machine armor are evident. Although he failed, you have to admit he's talented," the captain's eyes locked onto the secretary like an eagle. "A talented lunatic has kidnapped our young lady. At this point, even if you asked me to request help from the Central Networking Charter Bureau's mainframe computer, I would do it."
"Although the military academy students may have some flaws, I trust in their abilities. I don't believe they would recklessly cause havoc in this environment," the captain's expression gradually shifted to worry. "I'm thinking... the person who kidnapped the young lady might be someone we know, a spy within the empire or a rebel."
"The rebellion has been gone for many years. They've been advocating nonviolent resistance recently; it's unlikely to be them," the secretary responded with a heavy heart, although he was still searching for the truth.
The captain spoke sternly, "Have you been brainwashed by those people? Could anyone within the empire infiltrate our Westwood ship? Do you think those Bermuda refugees would dare to enter federal territory? Apart from some antigovernment factions, who wouldn't be afraid of jeopardizing the relationship between our fourth military region and the federation?"
...
...
It turned out that the extremely concerned fatty captain's judgment was either a misunderstanding or an error.
A person's line of sight always has blind spots, and a search will inevitably have blind spots. That's why the ancient Zhonghao people spent so many days without finding the little girl. However, after adjusting their direction and utilizing powerful computer assistance, the staff found the questionable point in the video recording in just three minutes.
The enlarged image from the surveillance was delivered into the captain's hands. In the image, a little girl wearing white pajamas stood peacefully beside a young man, gazing serenely at the beautiful curtain of stars outside the large porthole.
"This was taken on the day we left the Eastwood Grand District, the day the young lady went missing," the captain's expression softened slightly, as the staff hadn't found any signs of the young lady being abducted in the video. "If we find this young man, we'll find the young lady."
Soon, various pieces of information flooded in. Once the target was confirmed, the ancient Zhonghao, with their deep Westwood military background, responded rapidly, displaying the elegance of an invincible field unit.
At that moment, Xu Le and the little watermelon had just finished bathing in the room. Xu Le used a snow-white towel to gently wrap the little miss's swaying head, preparing to dry her hair. Suddenly, the room's door silently opened.
Several barrels were pointed at his head, pitch-dark and chillingly cold.