"Got it~ Got it~ We’ll make sure to pass the word~" Natural Curl spoke weakly, having been worked to the bone by Mantou for two days, looking miserable.
But it wasn’t all for nothing; Mantou had helped reforge the body of his Mantis Blade, crafting a handy close-combat longsword, giving him a slight recovery.
However, as the first players to officially interact with neutral NPCs, the intelligence level of these NPCs was shockingly eye-opening for the two.
Compared to them, GPT seemed like a little kid struggling to speak properly. The interface in front of them and some obvious game-like sensory filters were the only things keeping them from believing these were real people.
The two, skeptical at heart, even tentatively used words like NPC and player as pronouns in front of Mitch and the others, but Mitch and the others had no reaction, continuing conversationally.
Yet, unbeknownst to both, what they said might not necessarily be what they were thinking.
After all, all information humans receive from the outside world comes from the five senses, as electrical signals collected by organs. If Lin Miao could manipulate their vision and R18 perception filters, why would he leave hearing and speech unchecked?
It’s just like when you curse and it’s harmonized by unspeakable ancient gods to ’****’ or muted to ’beep—’.
After helping a few people load the prototype into the car, and watching Natural Curl drive away, Sol then turned to look at Mitch.
"This thing reminds me of the ’Punk Nuisance’ those gangs used to mess around with and the mishmash stuff from the Vortex Gang. Mitch, what do you think?"
If these two were acting independently, Sol wouldn’t overly concern himself, maybe just seeing it as odd jobs Mitch took. But they obviously came with Lin Miao’s intent.
He’s still puzzling over Lin Miao’s water plant proposal and hasn’t dared to discuss it with others.
But it’s certain that Lin Miao wouldn’t do anything pointless; he definitely has a motive.
"Hard to describe," Mitch said, somewhat bewildered. "Though it’s a pile of scrap metal pieced together, you can’t say it’s completely useless. But in high-intensity combat zones, it wouldn’t function effectively and couldn’t possibly compare to the monsters we’ve seen. If this thing had thick armor, it couldn’t even lie down."
Mitch, having seen Military Science’s power armor dominate the battlefield himself, knew they often operated in five-man squads like knives penetrating enemy ranks or conducting infiltration operations. Infantry with rifles were crushed like chicks before them, and the highly anticipated anti-material rifles and anti-tank rockets weren’t issues; locking onto them was even a problem. Even armored vehicles weren’t necessarily opponents.
After a battle, the casualty ratio often reached 1:100.
Sol suddenly asked, "What if it’s used against Night Wanderer?"
Mitch paused, seeming to realize something, and after a moment replied,
"It depends on the situation; after all, those Night Wanderers also have anti-armor weapons. If they can react.....and even if they can’t fight, they can run."
If Lin Miao were to hear their conversation now, he’d smile slightly.
Hey, buddy, ever heard of Huaqiangbei?
In the information age, the United States and East Asia discard tens of thousands of tons of electronic waste daily. There’s a group of people specifically recycling old electronics, dismantling their chips and circuit boards for cleaning, then reassembling mobile phones and reselling them to poorer, less developed areas for profit.
Similar industries exist worldwide, with Africa and Latin America as the largest consumption areas.
Even in Night City, there are similar operations; they’re called the Vortex Gang, and they love piecing together bizarre prosthetics for people.
The issue is that old prosthetics and old electronics aren’t the same; with phone parts, at worst, they just stop working, slow reaction is tolerable. But prosthetic issues can be life-threatening, which is why the old prosthetic market is very limited, often resorting to coercive selling or self-use.
Even prosthetic doctors rarely would use outdated prosthetics unless absolutely necessary.
Transform prosthetics into cheap exoskeletons to wear?
No one’s really thought of that.
After all, compared to exoskeletons, people still prefer the strength of the ’internal skeleton’ that comes with prosthetics, and prosthetics that are too removed from human shape increase brain load, causing cyberpsychosis.
Unlike the puzzled Mitch, Sol sensed a whiff of smoke, maybe.....he had to consider expanding cooperation with them.
In contrast to Adcardo’s cold attitude toward the exoskeleton, the players exploded with enthusiasm when they saw the things Mantou and Natural Curl brought back.
Who were these people?
A bunch who’d treasure a straight stick in their hands, who’d splice a holy sword using bolts and water pipes.
Seeing such a big lump of metal was like encountering a rare beauty; drooling, they swarmed it. Who cares if it’s rough or ugly?
This is called true Russian industrial style!
Five or six players left at the office surrounded Mantou and that power armor, chattering noisily.
"King of skills!!! Lord Mantou, you must be the reincarnated master craftsman!!! Please accept me, this green-skin kid!"
"Perfect, absolutely perfect for me! Wryyyyy!"
"No, green-skins don’t shout ; it should be—waaagh!"
"You know nothing! I, Dio, who never slacks off, just love to shout this way!! This is my world!"