306: Chapter 306 Preparations for the Mech Exhibition

The muffled sound of the metal doors closing slowly dissipated in the workshop. Chen Wuwang remained standing in place, motionless. The midday sun sliced in at an angle, illuminating metallic dust that had yet to settle in the air.

The sunlight slanted in, highlighting the metallic dust still suspended in the air.

Where those ten mechas had just stood, the cooling tanks still radiated a faint blue warmth, like pieces of freshly extinguished charcoal.

He stared at the plaque in the corner that read "Mecha Exhibition Under Preparation." The wind blew the sheet metal, making it sway gently with a clinking sound.

He knew that as soon as Aelia left, the news could no longer be hidden.

Thirty-four million five hundred thousand Spirit Stones was no small sum. If a small, peripheral clan in the Eastern Wasteland could suddenly mass-produce war-grade mechas, which of the seventeen Allied Families wouldn't be envious? Who wouldn't be wary?

Rather than waiting for others to come investigating, it was better to lift the veil himself.

He turned toward the console and pressed his palm onto the identification area.

"Retrieve the 3D map of the workshop."

The holographic projection expanded instantly, and the entire structure of the Technology Workshop emerged in the air. From the underground furnace to the ceiling rails, every pipeline was clearly visible.

With a swipe of his right hand, a gray area to the east was highlighted—it was the old Artifact Refining area that had been abandoned for years, piled with wreckage, where even the ventilation System had been stopped for three years.

"Right here," he said in a low voice. "Clear it within three days, and set up the exhibition within seven."

Before his voice had even faded, footsteps came from the corridor entrance.

Uncle Tiezhu walked in carrying a Psionic Rangefinder, his face stained with oil and a half-torn blueprint clutched in his hand.

"Patriarch, I just finished checking the transfer slips for this batch of spirit cores—eh? What are you doing standing here?"

Chen Wuwang didn't look back. "Preparing to hold an exhibition."

"Exhibition?" Uncle Tiezhu froze. "Exhibiting what?"

"The things we build." He raised a hand and pointed at the projection. "Let everyone see with their own eyes what the Chen Family is capable of now."

Uncle Tiezhu's brow immediately furrowed into a knot. "Wait! The production line has only just stabilized, and the second batch of three hundred units hasn't even been scheduled yet. You want to hold an exhibition now? Manpower and Materials are already stretched to the limit. If we pull people away to build a stage and the production line collapses, then what?"

"It won't collapse." Chen Wuwang finally turned around, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye rotating slightly as it scanned the other man's face. "I've already done the math. Once the payment from Aelia arrives, it'll be enough for us to run both lines in parallel. Furthermore—"

He paused. "What she took away wasn't just ten mechas; it was a signal. The outside world already knows we can mass-produce. Instead of letting them guess and snoop behind our backs, it's better to put it directly on the table."

Uncle Tiezhu opened his mouth, still wanting to argue.

At that moment, another set of footsteps came from the mecha parking area.

Chen Xiaodao walked over, an energy detection belt used for debugging still hanging over his shoulder. His gaze was cold, and his tone even colder: "I also think it should be held."

Uncle Tiezhu glared. "Have you gone mad too? What we should be doing most right now is reinforcing the seventh segment of the guide rail. Although the last explosion test was just a model, the shockwave affected the main power supply ring. If we don't fix it and a real explosion happens, no one will escape!"

"That's exactly why we must hold it." Chen Xiaodao stood still, his gaze meeting Chen Wuwang's directly. "They think we've survived this long based on luck.

But if we line up the mechas and let them see the choreographed movements, the coordination System, and the AI scheduling logic—no one will dare treat these as scrap metal from some backwater workshop anymore."

Chen Wuwang nodded. "Exactly. This isn't about who hits harder; it's about telling others what we can build and that we can keep building it. The exhibition isn't a performance; it's a manifesto."

Uncle Tiezhu took a breath and slammed the blueprint onto the console. "The two of you are bolder than the next! But have you considered what happens if someone takes the opportunity to steal technology or record core parameters? What if the System we worked so hard to develop spreads across the Eastern Wasteland overnight?"

"Then let them record it."

Chen Wuwang smiled, the right corner of his mouth lifting to reveal those three claw marks. "External processes can be recorded, but internal protocols are encrypted and locked down.

They can see the mecha walking, raising its hand, and starting up, but they won't understand why it can respond so quickly.

It's like when you watched me modify the furnace back then. You only saw me welding plates; you didn't know I was rewriting the energy circuits."

Uncle Tiezhu was choked up. After a long silence, he squeezed out: "...Then you must at least guarantee that production doesn't stop."

"Of course." Chen Wuwang raised his hand and swiped on the projection. "Listen up—I'm assigning tasks now."

The two of them fell silent at the same time, waiting.

"Uncle Tiezhu, you're responsible for the exhibition hall's infrastructure and energy supply.

Clear out the ruins in the East District for me. The ground levelness error must not exceed three millimeters. Lay down double-layered protective barrier foundation piles. The main power supply will be diverted from the south side, independent of the production line.

I want it to have power, ventilation, and surveillance. I want the construction drawings by noon tomorrow."

Uncle Tiezhu lowered his head and rubbed his chin, nodding as he listened. Finally, he gave a grunt of affirmation. "It can be done. But I'll need to transfer twenty technicians, and I'll need to use two 'earth dragons' to clear the waste."

"Approved." Chen Wuwang turned to Chen Xiaodao.

"You, pick three representative mechas, preferably of different models. Perform basic optimization on the exterior, polish the armor, and reactivate the Spirit Sigils.

Then program a set of basic movement sequences. They need to be fluid and have a high-tech feel—none of those flashy sword techniques."

Chen Xiaodao frowned. "No live combat demonstration?"

"No." Chen Wuwang was decisive. "This isn't an arena match.

What we want to demonstrate is stable, controllable, and replicable industrial capability, not individual combat power. The movements should be simple but precise.

For example, marching in unison, changing formations, and lighting synchronization—make it so that people can tell at a glance that this isn't a Cultivator controlling a tool, but a machine executing instructions."

Chen Xiaodao was silent for two seconds before nodding. "Understood. I'll choose 001, 007, and the newly finished 016. These three have the stablest Systems."

"Good." Chen Wuwang's finger lightly tapped the tabletop. "Also, all exhibition mechas must have their remote control permissions cut and be switched to local terminal drivers. I don't want anyone suspecting we're cheating via the backend."

"Got it." Chen Xiaodao turned to leave.

"Wait." Chen Wuwang called him back. "Don't use the fully automated debugging program. Manually calibrate the joint torque once. I want to ensure every movement is as precise as if carved by a blade."

Chen Xiaodao turned back, his eyes lighting up slightly. "Understood. I'll tune them personally."

With that, he strode toward the parking area for the remaining six undelivered mechas, his back as sharp and decisive as an unsheathed sword.

Uncle Tiezhu watched him walk away and sighed. "That kid... it's like he becomes a different person the moment he touches a mecha."

"That's why he's the right fit." Chen Wuwang stared at the projection and swiped his finger, pulling up the Family System interface—the holographic optical computer that only he could see hovered quietly in the depths of his consciousness. He quickly browsed through today's three heavenly secret instructions, his gaze stopping on one of them:

"The Artifact Refining Workshop must upgrade its psionic production line within seven days."

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Uncle Tiezhu, while you're clearing the ruins, dismantle the wreckage of the old furnace as well.

Those iron lumps are just taking up space; better to melt them down and recast them. We'll use this upgrade as an opportunity to turn the East District into a permanent exhibition area."

Uncle Tiezhu's eyes widened. "Permanent? You really plan on holding exhibitions long-term?"

"Why not?" Chen Wuwang withdrew his hand, and the projection shrank to a point of blue light before vanishing. "From today on, the Chen Family is no longer that small clan being trampled into the mud. We're going to let everyone know what the starting point of Cyber Cultivation looks like."

Uncle Tiezhu stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly grinned. "Alright then, you'd better prepare some good wine. On the day the exhibition hall is completed, I'll treat you to a jar of thirty-year-old Aged Spirit Brew."

"Deal." Chen Wuwang also smiled, but the intensity in his eyes didn't fade. "But before that—"

He waved his hand, activating the communication array.

"Notify the construction crew to assemble at the East District ruins within thirty minutes. All automated mecha units are on standby; demolition operations begin immediately."

The order was given, and the alarm bell in the corner of the workshop chimed three times, signaling that the instruction had been synchronized.

Chen Wuwang stood in place as the preliminary sandbox model of the exhibition hall reappeared before him: a wide viewing corridor, a central circular platform, three mechas in a triangular formation, and a backdrop featuring the massive Chen Family emblem and a flowing waterfall of psionic code.

The tip of his right finger continued to tap the edge of the console.

Once, twice, a pause, then once more.

The rhythm was steady.

Uncle Tiezhu was already walking toward the East District with his rangefinder, his figure gradually merging into the shadows of the scaffolding.

Chen Xiaodao stood before mecha No. 007, reaching out to gently stroke the shoulder armor, his fingertip sliding over the engraved serial number as if confirming something.

In the depths of the workshop, the hum of a metal cutter suddenly rang out. The first piece of scrap iron was hoisted off the ground and slammed onto the empty lot with a thunderous boom.