He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 131 Tin

"Dear citizens of the Deep Nest! There are only four days left until the seventeenth New Year of the Far Ring Calendar. The Far Ring Alliance pays tribute to all the workers who are working hard at their posts—this is the special radio station of the Southern Ruins of Hasen Zone. The Restoration Society sends its greetings to you! Welcome to our daily news briefing—"

a new day.

Sparse rays of light fell from the towering lighthouse at the edge of Usa, heralding the start of a new day—a slightly distorted FM radio broadcast reached his ears, and Hugh groggily opened his eyes, crawling out of the still-warm blankets.

I glanced to the side out of habit: the person sleeping on the small bed next to the bedroom was nowhere to be seen.

It was a scene that Li had long been accustomed to going to work, but today, not seeing that familiar figure made Maomao feel uneasy.

After checking the tracking device that he had secretly installed in Li's work clothes the night before, Xiu finally felt relieved: at least his troublesome father was not yet ready to carry out his plan to run away from home.

—Then we need to hurry up on our side.

"Our reporter reports: According to the latest news, Mr. Mordred, the Grand Speaker of the Southern Association and the head of the [Far-Ring Era] project, stated at a press conference held in the Metropolitan area yesterday that the second phase of the [Holy Ring] construction has officially entered its final stage. The main structure of the project is almost complete, and final repairs are underway. According to the projected schedule, as early as the beginning of next year, the Association and the Orthodox Church will open a small-scale pilot program in the Metropolitan area, at which time a number of [Permanent Residency Quotas for the Ring Project] and [Permanent Residency Certificates for the Dome Ecological Park] will be issued, with priority given to those holding senior professional titles."

Listening absentmindedly to the news, Xu opened the swimming tank with practiced ease. He froze for a moment when he saw the empty beverage compartment, then controlled his twitching expression and picked up a nutritional paste to chew.

As the most common food in the bottom nest, this tasteless thing, which tastes a bit like compressed rubber, can provide the human body with the most basic nutrients. Some people say that when the factory made this thing, it may have used machine oil as an adhesive - crushed it up and stuffed it into the channel of the power furnace, and it could even be used as a short-term substitute for fuel.

Perhaps due to being in a growth spurt, my cat seems to have a significantly increased appetite lately. Before, two servings of nutritional paste would keep her from feeling hungry all day, but now she needs to add half a serving more.

Fortunately, aside from his side job, he also holds the title of "genius technician" in Usa; otherwise, this extra "half" of food rations could have plunged a family with little room for error into hardship.

After a quick wash, the radio next to my bed in the bedroom was still playing continuously. There weren't many "big news" stories from the radio station each day. Apart from the recently publicized and much-discussed "Yuanhuan Project," there wasn't much else to broadcast, so it quickly entered the "watered-down" segment.

"C771 District Daily Report: According to the local inspector's patrol log from that morning, a serious fire incident occurred in the early hours of yesterday morning in an area approximately 400 meters from the lighthouse. Preliminary assessment indicates 24 deaths, with the preliminary cause of death being—suicide (pending)—the deceased were identified as members of an elite hunting group comprised of Lone Wolves and Wanderers; their affiliation has not yet been determined. This may be an unusual crime or a distorted phenomenon. No information has yet been received regarding the perpetrators. Residents in the vicinity are advised to exercise caution when traveling."

—Desire, more people have died in the gathering place, quite a few at that.

Xiu frowned. These kinds of news stories happen dozens or even hundreds of times a day, so it's normal for them to be crammed into this kind of garbage time slot.

But this time it's a little strange. The C771 jurisdiction includes a small settlement in Usa Town. Although it's small, it's still an area recognized by the Underhive Order: the lighthouse built there and the inspectors living there demonstrate that the Southern Association legally recognizes the compliance of this area.

Small organizations like nomadic hunting parties rarely frequent the area around lighthouses. After all, no matter how crazy thieves and robbers are, they won't attack something they themselves depend on for survival.

-strangeness----

A vague sense of foreboding crept into the cat's heart. Thinking of Aina, who had vanished into the night before her last night, the cat inexplicably shuddered.

—It shouldn't be that bad.

Forcibly suppressing a bunch of thoughts in his mind, Hugh put on the coat hanging on the back of the chair: the special leather was a good thing from the copper moss, lightweight and excellent in warmth. For Hugh, whose mechanical body modification rate was less than 15% and who had to carry out special missions outdoors, this was much better than piling on materials on his coat.

Stepping out of the house, he casually closed the door behind him. The cold wind that hit him made him shiver, and he quickly drooped his ears and tucked them into his cotton hat. He sighed softly.

With just over a month left until the "Winter Festival," perhaps to allow the people of the bottom nest to get used to the severe cold ahead of time, the "heat output" of the large boiler has already begun to decrease.

It's getting colder every day. If this were last month, the daytime temperature would still be at least above freezing, but now—

Stepping over a puddle that reflected a faint light, I confirmed that there was no flowing liquid inside and the ice had frozen to the bottom. I shrank back, and the downy hair on the tips of my ears would have been puffed up long ago if it hadn't been pressed down by my hat.

Cats are animals that are afraid of the cold.

—But birds are clearly animals that are afraid of the cold too.————

By the way, speaking of that bird...

Xiu frowned.

She said she'd meet me today, but she didn't say where we'd meet.

The cat tilted its head, thinking that it might have been drunk yesterday, making such a simple mistake—mainly because being with that bird made its thoughts inexplicably muddled.

This is not a good sign.

Immediately putting Aina's matter out of his mind, Hugh greeted the neighbor's child of similar age who was about to go to the factory assembly line to screw in screws, and walked alone towards the edge of Usa.

That is where the "lighthouse" stands.

A lighthouse, a transit station for light.

The spiraling city overhead resembles a frenzied and crowded anthill: layer upon layer ascending until it reaches an endless horizon. Glow has replaced natural light; the only reference point within the nest is the cycle of day and night.

But it will only flow out from "top".

Only the Metropolis at the top of the spiral city can enjoy the radiant glow.

For those buried "at the bottom" by the steel forest, their world would be in perpetual darkness without a medium to transfer the radiance. Fortunately, whether out of mercy or for other reasons, the three major factions cooperated to build lighthouses at the bottom of the southern ruins, transferring some of the excess radiance to the lower levels, allowing those people in the crevices where the light of day cannot reach to also taste a trace of the "daylight".

Although the light has been filtered, it is still precious enough: natural light is different from the light generated from circuits—the latter is also a man-made object confined in glass, something trapped under the ceiling, inside the room.

Only true radiance can contain the many nutrients that are "indispensable" to wisdom.

People will go mad if they are not illuminated by light—this is not a prophecy in the bottom nest, but a real phenomenon. People who have not received natural light for a long time will gradually degenerate in their minds: just like a vessel that holds wisdom is sealed by darkness, slowly becoming dull and rigid, until instinct replaces intellect, and they are completely turned into an empty shell without wisdom.

This phenomenon is known as "light-induced paralysis," an incurable disease.

Therefore, for a settlement, the lighthouse is the cornerstone of their survival—and the inspector sent by the association to manage the lighthouse is usually the direct manager of the local jurisdiction.

Hugh, who helped repair a tower, held such a special position in the town. The inspector, who was also quite familiar with the cat, had tried to take him on as his apprentice more than once.

Hugh, like a mischievous cat playing hard to get, extracts all sorts of knowledge and skills from the inspector while sometimes flattering him and making him completely fall into the bliss of being his servant.

They got along fairly well.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I didn't expect you to be such a green tea cat behind my back." A familiar voice suddenly rang in his ears, and Hugh felt his heart stop for a few seconds.

There was no warning sound—not even breathing or footsteps—until the strange man beside him suddenly spoke, at which point he realized Aina was there.

Copper Moss's professionalism allowed him to quickly calm down, and he forced a composed tone before asking in a deep voice, "Where are you going tonight—?"

Just as Hugh was about to turn his head, a pungent smell of blood suddenly wafted from nearby, assaulting his nostrils. "You?! Cough cough—"

"6

"Wow, so many happy things have happened—"

Aina spread her hands. The pair of wings behind her, now missing half of their former vibrant beauty, were grotesquely distorted beneath a layer of murky blood. Her stark white skeleton was visible beneath the missing feathers, and further down, there were gaps in her flesh from large hollow bullets exploding inside. On her right abdomen, there was a gruesome wound that went right through, almost revealing half of her intestines.

"Oh no, I'm being exposed!"

Without warning, she suddenly squatted down on the spot, reciting lines as if she were reading from a script, "Waaahh ...

"————" Hugh's distorted expression was completely out of control. In this emergency, he could only use his ability to try to cover the bird and then drag her to the depths of the rubble pile on the side of the main road.

He only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that almost no one would come to this place again.

"So this isn't considered wardrobe malfunction for humans?"

After being dragged along, Aina finally stopped. She casually stuffed the organ that had been thrown out of her body and was still gurgling and steaming back into herself, blinked, and said, "You guys have such strange standards for vulgarity, even though you've already shown some skin."

'

'

Xiu opened his mouth, his expression as uncomfortable as if he had sucked on a lemon pit. He had already realized that this guy wasn't really ignorant of "human affairs," but rather had chosen a "non-human" persona in front of him.

"You—" He wanted to ask, "Are you alright?" but seeing that the bird hadn't changed at all, and its eyes were even more lively, he felt that his worries were a bit unnecessary.

So Hugh took a deep breath, pointed to her wound, and chose to go along with her "persona".

"In the eyes of humans, this kind of person is not considered an exhibitionist, but usually considered a dead person."

He frowned, then stiffly turned his head. "Can't you just fix it?"

"I'd like to too—but I just can't find any clean raw materials."

Aina shrugged, then said in a cryptic voice, "How about you help me out?"

—

Along with those words came a sudden silence. The sound of Xiu swallowing was very clear, and he suddenly felt himself trembling.

"What—raw materials?"

—Repair—the material of the body.

Flesh and blood? A living person?

In an instant, he couldn't help but think of countless bizarre works with "alien themes," as well as those "criminal investigation records from the XX era" that were so explicit that even the Underworld had to implement a rating system for their broadcasts. Hugh glanced around and felt like prey being enveloped by a giant, dark maw in the boundless depths of the ruins.

An unspeakable fear lingered in my heart.

"Um--"

Aina watched the cat with its back to her, its thin shoulders still trembling uncontrollably, and finally couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"An interesting second meeting. I'll record your performance in my memory bank."

As she spoke, she casually found a flat spot to sit down, rubbed the mountain of rusty scrap metal piled up at her feet, and sighed helplessly.

"Actually, I'm right, these materials are very dirty."

I was a little disgusted, but there wouldn't be any pure tin to fill the body in a place like the bottom nest, so I had to make do.

The "theory of dissolution" of base metals, flowing from the creator, uses this tin shell as the primary material for restoration: tin, one of the seven metals of alchemy, is a light, malleable, and flexible substance that can flow like liquid, forming a shell that envelops wisdom.

Legend has it that sulfur, mercury, and salt, with their properties of regenerating and distinguishing metals, respectively became the mediums that contain the body, mind, and spirit. In the worldview of alchemy, everything is a "medium," and everything is forever in the process of "transformation" before reaching the Philosopher's Stone.

The art of tin manufacturing

The technique of "purifying and transforming impurities in metals into tin using the same principles as sulfur, mercury, and salt" is something that refining techniques can achieve, and Aina happens to have this kind of knowledge.

The metallic hill beneath them molten like wax.

The flowing silver liquid entered her body without any transformation process that could be understood by common sense. It was a transformation full of incongruity: in an instant, tin and flesh and blood became one, and the originally hideous wounds were no longer distinguishable.

As Hugh watched this scene, he inexplicably held his breath, and Aina's gentle voice came from beside him.

"Ugh, a bunch of ugly freaks carrying weapons, they scared me to death! They just started shooting at me, but luckily I'm pretty resilient. But now that I think about it, it seems like I went looking for trouble again—oh well, it doesn't matter, they're all dead now anyway."

The bird patted Hugh on the shoulder, showing no extra emotion for the life that had died at its hands, while the cat was still trembling slightly. According to the natural order of nature, cats should be the natural enemies of birds, but under those golden-red eyes, he felt a terrible sense of being watched by a predator.

"Don't be afraid," Aina smiled, revealing her neat white teeth.

"I'm not a good person."

The next instant, Hugh felt a weight in his hand, as if something cold had been dropped into it.

"The equipment dropped by the leader of that 'Chosen One' organization after he died looks pretty valuable. Here, take it."

Ignoring the blank expression on Hugh's face, Aina continued.

"Now, you should do your job as your mentor." She yawned. "Take me to your contact."

>