80: Chapter 80 Undercurrents, Laying the Groundwork

The night wind swept across the edge of the Medicinal Field, kicking up a layer of thin mist, like someone had scattered ash on the ridges.

Chen Wuwang stood by the stone tablet, motionless.

The Mechanical Prosthetic Eye in his right eye was still rotating—data streams flickered frame by frame: Spiritual Qi fluctuations were at seventeen times the norm, life signals were pulsing intermittently, and the underground vibration frequency was approaching the critical threshold at a rate of 0.3 Hz every quarter-hour.

The cracked, deep blue tissue at the roots of that Nine-Turn Soul-Returning Tree was still throbbing, and the text "Welcome back, Host" was branded onto his vision like a hot iron, impossible to shake off.

He knew he couldn't go any further in.

It wasn't fear. It was that he couldn't gamble.

This place was no longer a Medicinal Field; it was a minefield. One wrong step, and the ley lines of the entire Eastern Wasteland could be triggered.

What was more troublesome was that once this anomaly spread, the jackals hiding in the shadows would smell it and pounce—the Zhao Clan wanted to snatch resources, the Sun Clan coveted the technology, and a madman like Mo Yuan would give anything to see his Family in chaos.

What was most critical right now wasn't the mutation itself, but controlling the news.

He raised his hand and swiped three times on the side of his arm ring; the encrypted frequency automatically connected.

"Tiezhu." His voice was pressed extremely low, like a blade sliding across ice. "Southeast irrigation canal, arrive within ten minutes. Don't take the Righteous Path; go through beneath the abandoned furnace. Come alone."

The communication cut off. He leaned against the stone tablet, his fingers unconsciously tapping the hilt of his dagger—one tap, then another, the rhythm steady.

His mind was racing through two things: first, how to defend the core area; second, how to make outsiders think—the Chen Family was panicked, but their defense was sloppy.

Being able to defend it was a skill, but defending it too well would make no one believe it.

He needed a flaw, a flaw just enough for others to take a look and try their hand at it.

Ten minutes later, a slight friction sound came from the canal entrance in the distance, like metal scraping against rock.

Chen Tiezhu arrived, wearing black-grey work clothes, his face stained with machine oil, and his left mechanical prosthetic limb's joints were still emitting a faint heat; he had clearly rushed over from the Artifact Refining Workshop.

"Family Head." He stood still, his voice low, yet carrying the stubborn spirit of a craftsman. "Did the furnace explode again? Or... did something really happen to the Medicinal Field?"

Chen Wuwang didn't answer. He simply raised his hand, and his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye projected a semi-transparent light screen. A 3D structural map of the Medicinal Field emerged, with a circle of red dots slowly rotating around the perimeter.

"Ten latent defense mechs." He said directly. "Bury them five meters underground in a circular distribution. The main control will link directly to my consciousness. You adjust the parameters personally, disable the remote wake-up protocol, and all activation commands must be authorized by me."

Chen Tiezhu's pupils constricted: "You mean... even I don't have authorization?"

"Correct." Chen Wuwang nodded. "After tonight, only you and I will know about this. Once the mechs are activated, they will automatically lock onto the source of the intrusion, but they won't counterattack. They will only record the trajectory, frequency, and methods. I want to know who is reaching out, and how they are doing it."

Chen Tiezhu was silent for two seconds, then suddenly grinned: "You're planning to go fishing."

"I've already prepared the bait." Chen Wuwang turned and pointed to the west side of the Medicinal Field. "See that pile of scrapped mech shells? The wreckage left from the last battle in the Northern Territory; it hasn't been cleared away yet."

"Yeah, even the rain shelter has half-collapsed."

"Right there, build a temporary energy node." Chen Wuwang's speaking speed increased. "Don't touch the outer shell; stuff a low-power signal transmitter inside. Set the frequency to the 4.7 Spiritual frequency band, and continuously leak a weak, abnormal wave—enough for long-distance detection and capture, but with inaccurate positioning, like a lighthouse flashing once and then going out."

Chen Tiezhu's eyes lit up: "Make people think we have a flaw, and that we patched it sloppily."

"Correct." Chen Wuwang nodded. "And the kind of sloppiness that implies 'post-battle fatigue and lack of vigilance.' The more it looks like a mistake, the better."

Chen Tiezhu rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining: "I get it. Use old shells with new cores; broken on the outside, advanced on the inside. Whoever truly believes this is a flaw will be reverse-tracked the moment they reach out."

"That's not all." Chen Wuwang added. "Add a delayed self-destruct module to the transmitter. Once it detects high-intensity scanning or energy impact, it will immediately burn out the core, leaving only scorch marks. Let them think—they succeeded, when in reality, they got nothing."

Chen Tiezhu grinned: "Brilliant, truly brilliant. This is called 'inviting the gentleman into the urn,' and giving him a return ticket to boot."

The two said no more and went their separate ways.

Chen Tiezhu crouched and slipped into the canal bottom, retreating along the old pipes towards the Artifact Refining Workshop, preparing to mobilize the mechs and equipment.

Chen Wuwang skirted along the ridge to the west side, crouching beside the pile of scrapped mechs, and personally checked the stability of the shells.

He lifted a twisted protective plate, revealing the rusted energy conduction slot inside. He reached out to touch it, his fingertips feeling the rough texture. This was it.

He took a black chip the size of a fingernail from his bosom, gently pressed it into the bottom of the energy conduction slot, and then covered it with a lump of specially made sealing clay.

The moment the chip was activated, a faint Spiritual frequency signal began to spread outward, pulsing like a breath, flickering on and off.

"Frequency stable, wave band blurred." He confirmed in a low voice. His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye simultaneously displayed the signal coverage range: it was perfectly stuck in the sensitive zone of external remote detection, yet unable to precisely locate the source. Perfect.

He stood up, clapped his hands, and his gaze swept across the entire Medicinal Field.

The night mist was thickening, and that Soul-Returning Tree deep in the Medicinal Field could no longer be seen clearly; only a faint halo of light floated in the air, like someone had buried a lamp in the ground. He did not approach any further.

The mutation would spread to the main vein within three quarters of an hour—the System instruction was still echoing in his mind.

He could not wait for the mutation to erupt before reacting; he had to finish setting the trap before then, keeping the initiative firmly in his hands.

He retreated to a high slope in the southeast direction, where the view was open, allowing him to overlook the entire Medicinal Field and monitor any movement in the ten-mile airspace.

He sat cross-legged, and his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye switched to wide-area monitoring mode. The Medicinal Field and the surrounding terrain were projected in real-time as a dynamic sand table, with all data points flickering silently.

A few minutes later, his arm ring vibrated once.

"Ten latent mechs have been deployed, depth of five meters, circular array, main control channel encrypted and bound." It was Chen Tiezhu's voice, brief and crisp.

"And the signal node?"

"Activated, self-destruct module on standby, outer shell camouflage complete. From a distance, it just looks like a pile of scrap metal leaking electricity."

"Good." Chen Wuwang closed his eyes, his consciousness connecting to the main control terminal. The status of the ten underground mechs appeared one by one: all in silent standby, sensors activated, ready to record the trajectory of any intrusion at any moment.

He also casually pulled up the patrol logs of the Family's public channel—everything was normal, and no one mentioned the anomaly in the Medicinal Field.

The Level 2 alert was still in operation, but it was publicly declared as a "routine drill."

Chen Xiaodao was also coordinating according to the plan, and the various clans of the Alliance were completely unaware. Very good.

He knew that what he had to do next was wait.

Wait for those eyes hiding in the shadows to lock onto this "flaw," wait for them to be unable to resist reaching out, and wait for them to expose their tracks.

He sat on the high slope, the night wind making his clothes rustle, his long silver hair fluttering behind his head like a flag that had yet to fall.

His right hand rested on the hilt of his dagger, his fingers still tapping rhythmically—one tap, then another—as if counting time, or perhaps waiting for a gunshot.

In the distance, a slight metallic hum came from the direction of the Artifact Refining Workshop; it was the sound of the automated assembly line starting up.

Chen Tiezhu was not idle; he had already begun preparing the second batch of hidden units—just in case.

Chen Wuwang did not turn back.

He knew Tiezhu was reliable. This man always muttered about "not losing the old craftsmanship," but in private, he studied rune chips more fiercely than anyone.

When he persuaded him to get into technological Artifact Refining back then, he only said one sentence: "Don't you want your son to inherit the true Dao of Artifact Refining?"—that hit the mark.

Now, he only needed one sentence to make him shut up and execute. This was his Family.

It wasn't maintained by Bloodline, but by trust, by tacit understanding, and by everyone knowing what they should be doing.

He looked up at the starry sky.

The position of Desolate Planet No. 73 was faintly glowing; that was the restricted area mentioned in the encrypted flight path section given by Aelia. He hadn't forgotten. But he couldn't attend to it right now.

This current game had to be steady.

He pulled up the Medicinal Field sand table again to confirm the status of all nodes. The latent mechs had no anomalies, the signal transmitter frequency was stable, and the high slope monitoring angle had no blind spots. Everything was ready. Only one action was missing.

He raised his hand and entered a string of commands on his arm ring: [Ash Contingency Plan · Preparatory Level] initiate.

Once the Spiritual Qi readings in the core area of the Medicinal Field exceeded the threshold, the perimeter would automatically release a high-pressure Spiritual energy net, sealing off a three-mile radius, while simultaneously triggering the Alliance alarm.

But he didn't set this command to execute automatically. He wanted to press it himself.

Because once pressed, it meant—the fish had taken the bait.

He sat on the high slope, motionless and silent, like a stone that had taken root.

The night mist coiled around his feet, and the halo of the Medicinal Field flickered on and off, as if the earth were breathing.

In the distance, a faint wave of Spiritual power swept across the sky, as if someone had performed a short-distance teleportation ten miles away.

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

It's here?