Chapter 16: Can Recharge
Yang Bo browsed online for batteries. The cheapest graphene batteries cost only a few tens of credit points, while the most expensive ones—nuclear-powered batteries used for mechs—could run into hundreds of thousands or even millions.
Yang Bo ended up purchasing a graphene battery priced at just over a thousand credit points, one with adjustable voltage.
An hour later, the battery was delivered to the building's ground floor. Because it was a private community, drone deliveries weren't allowed inside; packages could only be dropped off at the community gate, and then the property staff would bring them down.
The battery was a rectangular block—approximately 20 centimeters long, 15 centimeters wide, and 12 centimeters high—with an all-black exterior. Its positive and negative terminals were concealed within hidden ports. This battery was rated at roughly 5,000 watt-hours.
Yang Bo grabbed two forks. He inserted one fork into the positive terminal, and in that instant he knew his hunch was correct. He felt a surge of heat flow from his hand into his body. The sensation was much like the one you'd experience when soaking in scalding water at a public bath on Earth—each cell in your body seemed to awaken with excitement.
After about twenty minutes, the battery's charge had dropped by 20%, and Yang Bo began to feel a dull ache throughout his body. He finally disconnected it, set the battery aside, and collapsed into bed—exhausted beyond words.
The next morning, Yang Bo awoke feeling charged with energy, though his stomach was extremely hungry. He quickly downed two boxes of milk.
"Could it be that the electrical current stimulation is enhancing my physical constitution?" he wondered.
He mused further, "I wonder if there's a black market in this world—if I could get a live electric eel, that'd be great. I'll think about it after work this afternoon."
As he went about his morning routine—washing up and preparing breakfast—a flurry of thoughts filled his mind:
"Since this E-level training uses real objects, might there be other physical training modules as well?"
"Maybe tonight I could even try out a mech simulation game—after all, piloting a mech demands quick reflexes."
Yang Bo never asked Liu Zhijie these questions because the secrets of genetic evolution abilities were strictly confidential. Unless you joined the military or another major organization, you'd rarely get access to such information. Even then, these abilities are only used as reference; since everyone's genes are different, the activated sequences vary, and the combinations produce different powers—a fact well known online.
Of course, it was also possible that certain institutions had monopolized this information. When someone asked why, Yang Bo reasoned that it was much like Earth's superweapons: why are they controlled by major powers? The answer was the same—these forces hoard the information because they fear others gaining access. To acquire it, you'd have to join them. In other words, it was all a matter of class monopoly. Liu Zhijie had mentioned before that everyone's genes were tested at birth, and the military had already reserved the best talents.
Yang Bo also reviewed last night's news about the C-level genetic evolver involved in the bus accident—the police had declared it an "accident." Yang Bo frowned deeply; he had a premonition that this person had been targeting him all along and that his death was meant to pave the way for the emergence of the "Mech Driving" ability. Yet, exactly how that person was killed, Yang Bo couldn't be sure.
That day, Yang Bo opted for a taxi—a driverless one where you simply state your destination. In the past, while living in a government-provided residence, he wasn't allowed to take taxis or even enter upscale shopping malls, as doing so would invite criticism from society about enjoying federal benefits. Of course, compared to Earth—where many in subsidized housing drive luxury cars—this world still had its perks.
After arriving at the company, Yang Bo first reviewed his tasks. He tried to choose garden-clearing assignments, hoping for unexpected bonuses, since employers would pay extra if residents discovered stray mice, venomous spiders, or other anomalies beyond the service scope. However, as Yang Bo's clearance level was the lowest, if a high-level employee and a low-level employee took on a task together, the higher-level one would secure the assignment while the lower-level one would be left out.
Finally, he selected "Clean the Swimming Pool"—since no garden task was available, he went with the highest-paying option.
After accepting the task, Yang Bo went to collect his gear. This time the equipment was plentiful. There were various reagents and devices, and the company even dispatched a dedicated vehicle. Once Yang Bo boarded, he was taken to the site. Outside the main gate, the team unloaded the gear. In an unexpected twist, the workers used an internal combustion engine vehicle to transport the tools to the poolside.
Even though Yang Bo had seen an aerial view of the pool, nothing could have prepared him for its sheer size—a colossal swimming pool covering at least 2,000 square meters, its design reminiscent of a natural, teardrop-shaped water feature in a mountain stream.
After donning his protective suit, he first sprayed disinfectant into the pool, then set up the pumping equipment. The pool water was choked with algae and impurities, so a variety of filtration devices were necessary. The water was then pumped out into the adjacent forest.
Directly opposite the pool was a three-story villa, its huge floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the interior layout—people moving about and abstract artworks adorning the walls. "I wonder which celebrity lives there," Yang Bo mumbled.
Once the disinfectant had taken effect, he started the pumps and checked the filters. The pumping equipment was quite primitive—an electric motor powered by a battery with no smart control system, just a set of buttons. Yang Bo then grabbed a water gun and proceeded to power-wash the pool.
He alternated between high-pressure washing and pumping out the water, then used additional cleaning devices—battery-powered machines with brush heads, similar to lawn mowers—to scrub the surfaces. After a thorough cleaning and a final rinse with a special disinfectant, he refilled the pool.
For the Yang Bo of his past life, this task was almost like play. He gathered the used filter elements and other debris into garbage bags, completed the task, and had the supervisor meticulously inspect his work. Then Yang Bo left with 1,200 credit points in his pocket. Remarkably, such simple physical labor paid quickly—higher even than the income of most genetic evolvers. But then again, most residents had grown up in welfare institutions, accustomed to a life akin to that of pigs; who would want to work otherwise?
After finishing that assignment, Yang Bo couldn't wait to return and "farm" more electric eels—he could run three more E-level simulation trainings. He compared the numbers: D-level training required 10,000 points and an extra 3,000 points for self-selected simulation subjects. "By my calculations, E-level training is still more cost-effective. Brushing an E-level electric eel gives +1; yesterday, I got lucky and encountered three at once. Even if a D-level scenario with a genetically polluted beast might grant a maximum of +2, its cost is triple that of an E-level run," Yang Bo reasoned carefully, deciding that D-level wasn't worth it.
"No matter—first, I'll focus on farming Electric Energy Control." Yang Bo thought over his options, then donned his virtual reality headset again. The death of that C-level genetic evolver had left him feeling deeply insecure.
(End of Chapter)