407: Chapter 407 Mech Improvement: Chen Tiezhu Fights Day and Night

The lights in the Artifact Refining Workshop were still on.

Outside, the sky should have turned pitch black long ago, but inside, the fire never went out. The Spiritual Flames in the furnace crackled, casting a red glow over the workshop's walls.

Chen Tiezhu sat at the workbench, clutching a mecha Core Board he had just removed. His knuckles were stiff, and his eyes were fixed on a hairline crack on its surface.

“Again...” he muttered, slamming the board onto the table. “It's still here, third row of the interface, seventh pin.”

He reached for a nearby Jade Slip, his fingertips stained with oil. He scratched a few lines onto the bamboo slips: “Destroyed Mecha No. 7, data circuit interference path consistent, determined to be a targeted intrusion.”

Just as he finished speaking, footsteps sounded outside the door.

“Old Chen! You're still alive?” A young artisan poked his head in, carrying a bowl of hot soup. “You haven't eaten, have you? I brought this for you, eat it while it's hot.”

Chen Tiezhu didn't even look up: “Leave it there.”

“If you don't eat it, I'm taking it back.”

“Take it.”

The young artisan curled his lip and really turned to leave.

“Wait,” Chen Tiezhu suddenly said. “Have the wrecks of those three mechas that turned traitor last night been brought back yet?”

“They're back, piled in the backyard. The deacon said to wait for you to inspect them before deciding whether to melt them down or keep them.”

“Get two people to carry them in.”

“Now? It's almost midnight!”

“What, am I not allowed to work overtime?”

Chen Tiezhu finally looked up, his eyes bloodshot as if rubbed with sandpaper. “On the battlefield yesterday, our own people were almost blown to bits by our own mechas. You tell me, can this wait?”

The young artisan pulled his head back. “Alright, alright, I'll go call someone right now.”

Before long, two sturdy apprentices carried in a charred mecha component and dropped it on the floor with a clang.

The outer shell was deformed, the rune circuits were burnt to a crisp, and the control module in the chest had a crack, revealing twisted wires inside.

Chen Tiezhu squatted down, pulled an engraving knife from the tool bag at his waist, and gently pried open the protective plate.

“Look here.” He pointed to a tiny solder joint. “This place was sealed perfectly, but someone used high-frequency Spiritual Waves from the outside to vibrate it loose, and then inserted a segment of fake code.

It wasn't a hard breach; they exploited a loophole—like a thief climbing through a window. The door lock isn't broken, the window latch just wasn't fastened securely.”

The apprentice leaned in to look and scratched his head. “Then what should we do? Weld it a few more times in the future?”

“Welding it ten times won't help,” Chen Tiezhu sneered. “They specialize in hitting weak points. You patch one, and they hit another. We need a different approach.”

He stood up, walked to the shelf against the wall, opened a drawer, and poured out a pile of discarded chips and old rune boards with a clatter.

After rummaging for a long time, he pulled out a dusty little board.

“This is the first Dynamic Verification Board I made thirty years ago.”

He blew off the dust. “Back then, there were no mechas. I made it for the Mountain-Guarding Array to do a heartbeat check. It beats once every three breaths; if something's wrong, it alarms. Simple, but effective.”

The apprentice asked, “Are you going retro?”

“It's not retro, it's returning to the source.” Chen Tiezhu narrowed his eyes. “Current Systems rely too much on 'hard defense,' layer upon layer of rune locks. And the result?

The enemy bypasses them and installs a fake doorman at the entrance to trick the System into opening the door. We have to make every mecha learn to recognize its own heartbeat.”

As he spoke, he had already sat back at the table, picked up his engraving knife, and started scratching away on a new design blueprint.

“Add a random key generator to the outer layer to simulate a biological pulse, with a different frequency every breath;

Set a Fuse Mechanism in the inner layer. Once an abnormal command source is detected, immediately cut off the main control and switch to manual mode.

Then stuff a learning module in the middle to let it remember which fluctuations are normal and which are aimed at it.”

“Sounds like raising a pet.”

“Exactly!” Chen Tiezhu slapped the table hard. “We want it to have reactions, memories, and a temper! Don't let it just stupidly follow any command anyone gives it!”

He grew more excited as he spoke, grabbing a pen and writing frantically on the Jade Slip while muttering:

“Response time must be compressed to within 0.2 breaths, otherwise by the time it's identified, the person will be blown away...

The power supply must be independent; it can't rely on the main furnace. If it gets controlled, even the backup power will be useless...

We also need to add an alarm light wave, three red flashes, to let nearby comrades know this mecha has a problem...”

Halfway through writing, the tip of his pen paused.

“No,” he frowned. “That's too harsh. What if it's a misjudgment? If a perfectly fine teammate approaches and the System suddenly self-locks, who can take responsibility for that on the battlefield?”

He put down his pen and closed his eyes in deep thought.

A moment later, he opened them and said in a low voice:

“Add threshold judgment. Allow slight abnormal fluctuations to exist, and only trigger countermeasures against high-intensity targeted impacts.

Just like a person with a cold or fever doesn't get surgery immediately; you have to see if it's a real infection.”

After speaking, he took up the pen again and began revising the blueprint stroke by stroke.

Outside the window, the night grew deeper.

The furnace fire gradually weakened. Chen Tiezhu stood up and added a few pieces of Spiritual Charcoal. The flames surged again, illuminating his oil-stained face and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

He took off his outer robe, wrapped it around his shoulders, and continued to bury his head in his work.

At dawn, the first prototype module was finally assembled.

A palm-sized metal box, its surface engraved with fine runes, with a crimson crystal embedded in the center, pulsing slightly like a heart.

“Come, let's try it.” He connected the power and plugged the module into a small test mecha.

Start up.

The crystal lit up with a faint glow, and the System self-check passed.

Chen Tiezhu took a deep breath and turned on the jammer, simulating the spiritual energy code raid from last night.

Buzz—

The alarm light turned red instantly! The mecha's shield automatically strengthened by thirty percent, and a warning popped up on the main control screen: “Illegal command injection detected, switched to backup control mode.”

Success!

Chen Tiezhu grinned. Just as he was about to record the data, suddenly—

Crack!

The entire System shuddered violently, the crystal dimmed, and all indicator lights went out.

“Damn it!” He slapped the table. “Overloaded again!”

He quickly cut the power and wrapped the hot module in a damp cloth to cool it down. He waited for half an incense stick's time before carefully restarting the circuit.

This time he changed his strategy. Instead of a full-power test all at once, he used low-frequency pulses to wake the System up bit by bit.

“Slowly now, don't rush,” he murmured to himself, like coaxing a child. “We're not afraid of being slow, just of crashing.”

The fourth attempt.

Interference signal injection.

The alarm light flashed red, the shield increased, the main control switched—it ran steadily for ten breaths without interruption!

“It's done!” Chen Tiezhu jumped up, not even caring about the pain when his leg hit the chair. “Anti-rebellion device, I've brought you to life!”

He grabbed the Jade Slip to record the parameters, but his hand was shaking so badly that the ink marks were crooked.

“Heh, these old arms and legs really can't handle staying up.” He shook his numb hand and gulped down some cold tea to calm his nerves.

The horizon began to turn white.

The Artifact Refining Workshop was a mess: tools were scattered everywhere, the floor was piled with scrap materials and blueprints, and three destroyed mechas lay quietly in the corner like the remains of last night's battle.

Chen Tiezhu still sat in his place, his eyes red, his hands stained with machine oil and rune ink, his left arm trembling slightly from long hours of operation.

He was using an engraving knife to write technical documentation on a new Jade Slip, his handwriting scrawled yet orderly.

“The Anti-Rebellion Core Module has completed its initial verification.

Functions are as follows: 1. Real-time monitoring of control command legitimacy;

2. Automatic shield enhancement and control mode switching upon detection of intrusion;

3. Built-in threshold learning mechanism to avoid misjudgment; 4. Red light wave warning to allies upon trigger.”

Having written this, he paused and added another sentence:

“This device is not a panacea; it only addresses known types of interference. If the enemy changes their methods, it must be upgraded in a timely manner. I hope future artisans will not become arrogant because of their skills.”

As the final stroke fell, he let out a long breath and looked out the window.

The morning light was just appearing; a new day had begun.

He didn't move, still sitting at the workbench. Before him floated the red module he had just finished encapsulating, like a heart that was still beating.

His finger unconsciously tapped the tabletop, once, and then again.

It was as if he were waiting for someone to come and see, or perhaps he just couldn't bear to put it down.