Chapter 26: Blown Up!
"How should I put it? You could call them gene evolvers, but these people are so obsessed with becoming gene evolvers that they've become fanatics. The method of gene evolution we use still remains human-centric—in fact, what we call mutants are, by mainstream standards, actually failures of gene evolution."
"Yet, from some reports it appears the mainstream view is correct. Mutants, having incorporated genes from polluted organisms, tend to develop beast-like temperaments rather than human ones. What you're hearing is probably from gamers—there's even a game that features mutants. In reality, mutants do exist, though extremely rarely; and once a mutant is discovered, it is immediately destroyed." Liu Zhijie explained. Now that Yang Bo was an employee, it was necessary for him to be informed of these things.
"Oh, thank you, Boss. I'll head back now," Yang Bo replied.
"Go on. There are quite a few VIPs here this time—no one likes to serve high-profile clients who have chips implanted in them," Liu Zhijie said.
Curious about what exactly this virtual training entailed, Yang Bo hurried back. It turned out that it was simply a review of service standards—basically, employee guidelines. For example, you were not allowed to look people directly in the eye, nor were you to disclose the client's whereabouts or go over to ask for signatures. In fact, you weren't even supposed to speak.
It explained what to do in emergencies—what to shout and what measures to take. For instance, if someone forcibly intruded into your designated security area, you were to loudly warn, "Sir, this is a restricted area; please leave." If the intruder didn't stop, you would immediately shout a second time and hit your personal alarm button. And that was it—the rest was left for the high-level special security personnel to handle, who would beat the intruder and take him away.
Two shouts were sufficient; you weren't expected to take any further action because someone like Yang Bo had no law-enforcement authority. Taking matters into his own hands would only create trouble for the company. As for encountering someone with a weapon, the first priority was to run—protecting yourself in the face of overwhelming danger was paramount.
When serving VIPs—say, cleaning a high-profile client's residence—the rule was simply to keep your head down, never make direct eye contact, and just do your job, even if a fight broke out nearby. That was beyond the company's scope of service.
And that was all. Yang Bo felt somewhat disappointed; he'd expected this training to teach him how to be a competent security guard, maybe even include some hands-on violent training, but it was all just procedure.
In the end, Yang Bo trained for about an hour and memorized the entire protocol, though there was no formal assessment. Since the virtual headset was company-issued, Yang Bo suspected that Liu Zhijie's side could see whether he was being tested—and clearly, openly slacking wasn't allowed.
Later, Yang Bo found a paid martial arts training program online. He opted for the paid version because payment meant a contract was in place, thereby reducing the risk of any privacy leak. As Liu Zhijie had said, large companies developing such software wouldn't risk selling their secrets over a few small fry.
Of course, Yang Bo's mech game and the martial arts training were run on his own virtual projection device and auxiliary equipment—not using the company's virtual headset, which only had two training programs; the rest were internal. No matter how much internet companies prattle about respecting privacy, only large companies can afford to protect that line without risk. Smaller companies, well—they might as well go bankrupt. What can you do?
Yang Bo started with an evasion training session. In a room, balls began flying in from every direction. As the dodge training began, Yang Bo found it odd—at first the balls appeared to move slowly, and he dodged them effortlessly: one, two, three, four, five. Then it dawned on him that this was his Dynamic Vision ability at work.
Within one minute the training intensity increased, and after ten minutes the room was filled with balls moving at varying speeds. If all the balls moved uniformly, he could easily calculate their distances. But with some speeding up and others slowing down, his brain had to work overtime.
At 18 minutes, Yang Bo was hit in a vital spot—ending his first training session. Wiping away sweat (he'd never sweated so much since arriving in this world), he paused to recharge before continuing with attack-mode training.
Again in the same room, he trained against a dummy that dodged. At first the dummy moved slowly, then gradually accelerated. Yang Bo chose to train with his fists. In this high-tech world, if you brandished a weapon ostentatiously, the drone police would neutralize you in less than 30 seconds—even if you had a justification, if you performed what the drones deemed "dangerous movements," they'd strike immediately.
The third phase involved fighting a fast-moving dummy. Initially, Yang Bo only managed to defend, but gradually he started to counterattack—even when two dummies attacked him. According to the software developers, the martial arts training had no fixed moves or patterns; it was designed to hone your instinctive reactions. Yang Bo wasn't sure whether such training would be useful in this ultra-advanced society, but a bit of preparation was better than none.
As for playing the mech game, Yang Bo was limited to two hours a day because it was extremely expensive. "Yesterday I couldn't go back to that lake—where should I head next?" After dinner that afternoon, Yang Bo logged into the mech game again.
Yesterday, he had barely managed to take out a few opponents; today, Yang Bo was determined not to repeat that. After scrutinizing the official customer service data, he discovered that about 500 kilometers away there was a D-level polluted creature. Yang Bo decided to go check it out.
This D-level polluted creature was a giant rat living in a narrow crevice near the mountains. Many new players had tried to eliminate it, but unfortunately, this rat seemed to possess some elusive ability that always allowed it to escape—and the crevice was so deep and narrow that no mech could enter.
What Yang Bo didn't know was that, less than 100 kilometers from the base, someone had already begun tracking him. There were very few Blade mechs at the base, and most other players had extensively modified theirs—equipping them with stronger rocket backpacks, more powerful laser swords, and so on.
As Yang Bo mulled over the map, planning to head toward the D-level polluted rat area—although his main target was the multitude of bats reported in a nearby cave—he thought, "How can I farm ordinary animals when repairing my mech is free?"
"General, give the order!" In the underground command center, Tiger-Faced General called out as his subordinates shouted in unison.
"Blood Bat, you're in charge. I want you and your team to smash this pathetic mech to pieces. From now on, whenever this loser appears, obliterate his mech. If his mech is repeatedly destroyed, he'll go bankrupt. Once he's bankrupt, we'll get a court ruling in the real world to track him down—and then I'm going to eat him," Tiger-Faced General seethed, frustrated that his own losses had been so severe because of that Blade mech.
(End of Chapter)