"What happened to you?" Renault raised an eyebrow as he looked at AR15's drooping shoulder. "You managed to break your shoulder even without being in combat. If you were really fighting, you'd be done for in minutes!"
"When we landed..." Hearing Renault's question, The expressionless AR15 finally couldn't keep it up anymore. She turned her head slightly, feeling somewhat embarrassed.
She didn't reveal P90's involvement, of course, nor did she need to. Anyone could figure it out by asking other T-Dolls.
"You jumped down with them?" Renault raised an eyebrow, sizing up AR15. Could this girl in front of him be a fake AR15?
Jumping down from a height like that is something anyone with common sense knows not to do. Although her base components are military-grade, they're not designed for jumping from dozens of meters high.
Any T-Doll could calculate the damage jumping from that height would cause to their components. Normally, even if a T-Doll landed correctly on both feet, their knee joints wouldn't be able to withstand the impact.
So normally, AR15 should have both legs severed, with severe damage to her main body and possibly fractures in her ribs and even spine.
But now AR15 only has one shoulder broken, so clearly she didn't jump down herself.
As for which idiot dragged AR15 down with them, there are only a few people in the house who could have done such a reckless thing. By observing who looks the most guilty, it'll be easy to find out.
"Besides the broken shoulder, is there anything else wrong?"
"No, everything else is fine."
"Let's go, I'll fix you up in the workshop."
Watching Renault walk ahead, AR15 sighed helplessly, carefully picking up her engraving weapon and following slowly behind.
She couldn't walk too fast now; with every step, she could feel the fragments in her shoulder rubbing against her components, making her feel uneasy, fearing that the vibrations might suddenly damage important modules inside her body.
Seeing how difficult it was for AR15 to walk, Renault directly called two Prowlers, placing a steel plate on top of their heads to carry AR15 to his workshop.
Seeing this, P90 and RFB clapped each other on the back.
"Ahaha! I bet a week's worth of clothes that AR15 will definitely be put into a rice cooker this time!"
"No, I think she'll end up in a Dinergate!"
RFB thought the rice cooker had been appearing too often lately. Dinergates would be more fitting.
Passing by with parts in hand, MP5 saw these two betting on what shell AR15 would end up in and gave P90 a disapproving look. "You're the one who broke her arm, and now you're betting on her fate? That's a bit too much, isn't it?"
"Cough! You can't say that... I'm actually helping her!" Hearing MP5, P90 hurriedly tried to explain.
"Helping? I've never seen you 'help' anyone by breaking their shoulder blade and arm!"
"Cough, there's a reason for that. I was actually helping her make up her mind. Look at AR15; she came to our side but didn't say she's joining us or leaving. With an outsider hanging around all the time, don't you feel a bit uncomfortable?"
"Huh?" MP5 tilted her head. "No..."
"Yes! There must be!"
Seeing P90 hastily backpedal, MP5 gave her a disdainful look.
AR15 hadn't caused any noticeable changes since she arrived, and she wasn't wandering around the ship, so what impact could she possibly have?
"Alright, we still have work to do. Remember not to overdo it, or when AR15 finds out, she'll swap you both out for new bodies!"
Putting down her toolbox, MP5 walked towards the dismantled Jupiter cannon parts.
MP5's hands were full of scattered parts. The larger components were being transported to the cargo hold by crane, while Simonov and her team were directing and controlling the crane in the cargo hold.
"That's impossible!" Seeing MP5 walk away, P90 patted her chest confidently.
Once AR15 got a new body, although her combat efficiency might be a bit higher, they'd all be using the same bodies.
Who could outmatch who?
"Alright, why shout so loud? The Commander might already know what's going on and might come to deal with you!" RFB poked P90.
With no subtlety at all, there's nothing they couldn't hide.
As for why P90 and RFB were bothering AR15 this time... well, RFB hoped that the genuinely productive T-Dolls at home could increase, giving her more opportunities to slack off.
That's what it was before. Because there weren't many reliable T-Dolls at home, she was sent to execute missions with MDR. Although the missions were indeed easy, she hadn't even lifted her weapon, who would want to go outside to do some trivial commissions that just wasted time?
As for P90, she just liked the excitement.
On the other side, in the workshop.
"Shoulder blade shattered, I say, did you make enemies with one of my T-Dolls? Letting them bother you like this, your body can't be repaired, and I don't have military-grade components for you to use. You can either wait patiently or I can order a military-grade arm for you from the black market."
"Is there no other way?"
Hearing Renault's words, AR15 couldn't help but smile bitterly. She had originally planned to leave Renault's side, but it appears that there was no chance now.
With one arm damaged, even using her own Imprint weapon became difficult. In her current condition, wandering aimlessly in the Sangvis-occupied area would be courting disaster.
"The other way is to accept my modification and completely say goodbye to Griffin."
To be honest, Renault preferred keeping AR15 under his command than letting her run off on her own.
After all, it's just ordinary military-grade components. If Renault wanted to, he could still manufacture them; after all, the equipment on the ship is quite comprehensive, so this small matter is nothing.
"Then... when you modify me, can you directly delete the 'Parapluie' virus from my consciousness?"
"No problem, those viruses are all outdated stuff, it'll only take a few minutes to clear them out, but they'll need to be reinstalled later."
"What!?"