Warhammer: Rebuilding the Golden Age Starting with Farming.

Using a radio in this environment is like shouting at someone a hundred meters away in a storm—pure torture.

Shouldn't the normal plot be that as soon as Andy enters, the other party should send a data handshake request?

Then the two parties establish an encrypted peer-to-peer data link.

In that case, whether it's transmitting maps, exchanging information, or even hurling insults at each other, it can all be done in microseconds, and with perfect clarity.

But now, the starship's main AI is still playing a "guess what I'm going to say" game with Andy using this broken radio.

There are only two possibilities.

Either she's faking it, deliberately using this method to conceal some core characteristic of herself, or she's toying with Andy.

Either her communication module is faulty, or her core protocol may not support this kind of data interaction at all.

Either way, it annoyed Andy.

The core of his logic was getting slightly warm from dealing with this meaningless noise.

Andy stopped walking.

He stood at a T-junction, looking at the identical dark corridors on both sides.

"Sizzle...why...sizzle...not moving?"

The female voice on the channel was still trying to penetrate the static interference.

Andy did not reply.

He raised his hand, extended the data probe on his finger, and waved it in the air.

The meaning is obvious.

Provide an API or send a handshake packet; don't give me this nonsense.

But the other party seemed not to understand at all, or pretended not to understand.

"Tsk... Oh... Don't be shy... Tsk... Keep going..."

Andy's electronic eyes narrowed slightly.

You're being ungrateful, aren't you?

He directly cut off the communication channel's receiving function.

The world is finally peaceful.

Then, Andy turned on the external speaker.

"I can't listen to it anymore."

The simple sentence echoed in the enclosed metal corridor, causing dust to fall from above, but the volume was not loud enough for people outside the starship to hear it.

I know you're watching me.

“I also know that you have physical vehicles that can move.”

"Aren't you tired of this trick of hiding in the back and whispering on the radio?"

Andy placed his hand on the string of molten grenades at his waist, making an extremely dangerous gesture.

"If I don't see anything that can talk normally within five minutes, I'll just find a main heat pipe and shove this thing in."

"I mean what I say."

Chapter 64 A product without proper labeling?

Inside the starship, a silence fell.

Only the occasional crackling sound of metal expanding and contracting due to heat could be heard from afar.

Three minutes have passed.

Just as Andy's finger was already on the pin of a grenade, ready to actually find a place to blow it up for fun.

From the shadows around the corner ahead, a heavy, slow mechanical hum could be heard.

"Crunch—Crunch—"

The hydraulic pump groaned under load, accompanied by the grating sound of unlubricated metal joints.

It sounds old, tired, and even a bit... dilapidated.

Andy released the pull ring, and the electronic eye locked onto that direction.

A tall, dark figure slowly emerged from the darkness.

It was very tall, probably around three meters, much taller than Andy's two-and-a-half-meter engineering body.

Its appearance is extremely imposing, with thick armor plates covering its entire body and shoulders as broad as a wall.

But what's most striking is its left arm.

The left arm was severed at the elbow joint, and a long string of thick, colorful cables was exposed at the jagged break, swaying helplessly in the air as it moved, occasionally sparking a few electrical sparks.

It was one of the three "Abomination Intelligence" units that had previously routed Helios' elite forces in Sector D.

Codenamed "Cleaner One".

This is the top-tier security robot from ancient times, as described in Helios's report.

But when this behemoth actually stood before Andy, and the STC scan truly covered its body...

Andy was dumbfounded.

The initial expectations of it being a "similar to the golden age" or a "lost STC masterpiece" were shattered at this moment.

[Target scan complete.]

Model: Unknown.

[Core architecture: Seriously violated.]

Andy almost burst out laughing when he saw the line of red analysis report.

This... what kind of golden age security superhero is this?

It's clearly a pile of industrial waste that has come to life!

At first glance, it looks impressive, but upon closer inspection, it's full of flaws.

Just by looking at its intact right arm, the model of the hydraulic booster pump is clearly wrong.

Andy couldn't identify the specific model, but the power output of this architecture was simply not enough to drive such a thick robotic arm, so it had to be connected in parallel with three, making the whole arm bloated and the tubing as messy as a clump of fried noodles.

Now look at its breastplate.

It was indeed a fine steel plate, with even ancient molecular circuit etching marks on it.

But its installation method is simply outrageous.

It's not a standard one-piece molding like in the Golden Age, nor does it resemble polymer welding; it's more like it was directly nailed to the skeleton with rivets.

The most outrageous thing is its head.

That seemingly intimidating sensor array actually had several probes that were actually made of flying wires!

Andy believes that its field of vision must have huge blind spots and distortions, requiring extremely high computing power to correct the image in real time.

No wonder its walking posture was a bit strange; it turns out its eyesight wasn't good!

Andy is all too familiar with this style.

So familiar!

Isn't this exactly what he's been doing every day for the past three months?!

At first, Andy had no original parts or standard blueprints, so he had to scavenge for scraps in the garbage dump.

Use whatever you find; if the model is wrong, modify it; if the interface doesn't match, add jumper wires. I don't care what it is, as long as it works, it's a good thing!

It boasts an engineering marvel that says "I think it can be done" and "just keep pushing it forward and it'll be done".

Without a doubt, this "Cleaner Number One" is not an original product from the Golden Age at all.

It is clearly the main AI controlling this starship, which has been haphazardly cobbled together bit by bit over a long period of time using all the resources at hand!

There is no factory serial number, no STC certification, and not even a unified industry standard.

It's a complete "three-no product" (no production date, no manufacturer, no quality certificate).

"Zi-"

The big guy stopped three meters in front of Andy.

A red light illuminated on one of its old-fashioned speaker units on its chest, emitting a hissing sound.

Immediately afterwards, a familiar, teasing female voice came from inside.

Without radio interference, the sound was much clearer this time.

"Have you seen enough, little yellow robot?"

"Cleaner Number One" looked down at Andy, its head turning and making a clicking sound.

“I know you’re scanning me.”

"How about it? Are you stunned by my magnificent creation?"

"Look at this, now that's what you call a perfect killing machine. Every line is full of artistry."

Andy withdrew his scanning gaze.

He looked at the large iron lump that was full of confidence and even boasting about itself.

The initial awe and tension I felt towards my fellow human beings vanished instantly.

Instead, there's a strange feeling of encountering a fellow traveler, a feeling that's both funny and a little bittersweet.

"Artistic sense?"

Andy couldn't help but ask a question in return.

He pointed to the tangled mess of hydraulic lines on the robot's right arm.

"You mean that pile of hydraulic supports where even the cushioning rubber is almost covered in a layer of patina?"

"Or are you referring to that radiator grille that was forced to be welded crookedly?"

Andy's tone contained no sarcasm, only the professional commentary of a seasoned junk collector.

"If the cooling grille is installed like this, hot air won't be expelled properly and will accumulate in your chest cavity."

"If I'm not mistaken, if this machine runs at full power for more than forty minutes, the motherboard will overheat and reduce its frequency, making it at least half as slow."

"And that severed part of your left arm, it wasn't broken off by a blow, was it?"

Andy pointed to the swaying cables.

"You dismantled it yourself."

"Because you couldn't find a suitable drive bearing, or the motor in another part burned out and you didn't have a spare part to replace it, so you simply disassembled it and moved the parts to the right side."

"rob Peter to pay Paul."

Am I right?

Silence fell once more, and the towering robot froze in place.

The red light in its single eye (or rather, a compound eye composed of several probes) was flashing at an extremely high frequency.

Clearly, the AI ​​controlling it is experiencing a violent emotional upheaval.

She probably never expected that this seemingly tiny intruder could see right through all her underwear at a glance.

What she originally intended as a "perfect creation" to intimidate the other party was, in their eyes, nothing more than a tattered mess covered in patches.

The shame of being exposed to someone's face was worse than death for an AI with such a high sense of self-esteem.

"you……"

The voice coming from the loudspeaker became somewhat exasperated.

"You don't know anything!"

"This is battle damage! Don't you understand what battle damage is?!"