Chapter 184: Dust‑Covered Gold

Mechanical Age 34 years......

What does the mission failure have to do with me!

I'm a genius who reached the third realm at eighteen!

You? You're just a consumable that came out of the cannon fodder camp! What qualifications do you have to advise me!!!

The woman's visage was ferocious, attacking 1227 with the most vicious language, while constantly waving a wrench in her hand, relentlessly striking 1227's leg armor.

Once, she was that energetic young girl, meticulously maintaining 1227, personally applying a bright mecha coating; what turned her into... this loathsome appearance now?

Was it due to repeated mission failures, or repeated doubts from those around her about 1227's identity? Or perhaps she was always like this?

1227 didn't know, but it still remembered its first meeting with the girl; back then she had a sunny smile, would place her hand on its armor, and say, smiling, 'Let us fight side by side from now on! 1227!'

But now....

1227 looked at the girl before it, whose appearance had long since changed, and its Logic Core welled up with an inexplicable sorrow...

Please trust my combat logic; you should not approach the mother worm without first clearing the flies, or else...

Enough!!!

The woman hysterically interrupted 1227's words, hurling the wrench heavily at its mechanical eye; with a dull thud, 1227 remained unscathed, which only seemed to further enrage someone.

Get out! Get out! Tomorrow I'll terminate our agreement with you! You worthless consumable!

1227 remained silent, quietly listening to the other's fury; after all, it was merely an emotionless cannon-fodder mecha.

The next day, she casually tossed you to another iron rider, who didn't notice your difference, merely treating you as a discarded veteran mecha, and he only used you as a transitional mecha before shortly selling you on the black market.

Afterward, you seemed like a tool that could be discarded at will, a consumable that could be tossed aside, constantly changing hands among various people; aside from the first iron rider, Canglang, you never felt respect or kindness again.

You felt the full malice of humanity, and those precious components on your body were dismantled and destroyed with each successive owner, reduced to a wreck.

On the day before you were sold, you overheard chatter from a mecha dealer: apparently a woman was frantically searching for a certain old mecha, rumored that someone had sold her important mecha, causing quite a stir.

You don't know who that person is, but emotions have become useless at this moment; your Logic Core, to prevent self-destructive thoughts, has undergone self-iteration, making you now more like a machine than ever before.

Mechanical Age 39 years: only a few years have passed, yet your number of owners has exceeded a hundred; you've done farming, logistics, forging, but you've basically seen little combat.

If your Logic Core hadn't blocked the logic of emotions, you would now have self-terminated, becoming a pile of scrap copper and iron; yet you still operate, your vitality so tenacious, but no one can discover this dust-covered gold of yours.

Mechanical Age 45 years: you are still operating before me, and your situation has not improved.

Mechanical Age 50 years: you were sold to a destitute iron rider, who brought you back onto the battlefield, but alas, he was merely a reservist, unable to grasp that you greatly increased his combat power; after earning enough money, he sold you again.

This time, your fate took a sharp turn for the worse; not to mention iron riders, even a normal buyer is hard to find, you remain stuck in a cycle of buying and being sold, and you have long since felt the emotion of confusion.

Mechanical Age 60 years: after years of turnover, your body has become increasingly damaged; you considered fleeing, but your Logic Core forbids any action beyond reason, and so you were ultimately abandoned in a Scrap Mountain.

This time, you can be considered to have fully regained your freedom; this previous life left your Logic Core feeling somewhat fatigued, as ordinary mechs, after existing five years, their logic memory fills up, and if not cleared regularly, they will crash and malfunction.

But you are different; logically, after so many transfers of authorization, your memory should have long been full, yet for some reason—perhaps due to the 'shit mountain code' or something else—your Logic Core remains normal.

Having been thrown into the Scrap Mountain, you now have only a single scrap mechanical arm usable; the rest of your components have long vanished through countless buy‑sell cycles.

Over half a century, your Logic Core has continued to grow; you have learned the scheming of human society, the darkness and unfathomable aspects of human nature, so now your Logic Core's impression of humanity as a species has become extremely poor.

If someone were to come before you again, like Canglang requesting a transfer of authorization, you would unhesitatingly refuse—but only if you survive until then.

'I don't want to die....' the Logic Core lets out a wail, the reserves in the Energy Core are nearly depleted, your body has only a single scrap mechanical arm usable, but fortunately, your mechanical joints still function normally.

Thus, you drive the mechanical arm via your joints, dragging your scrap‑worn body, beginning to move within the Scrap Mountain.

'I don't want to die....' the Logic Core wails again, energy continually drains, yet even in the end you still couldn't find a way to survive.

Energy exhausted, the mechanical operating sound gradually fades, and 1227's motion remains forever frozen at this moment....

"Life Clause "Indestructible"——activating...."

"Life Clause "Compatible Form"——activating...."

Mechanical Age 66 years: you are still in the Scrap Mountain, but you are no longer the sword‑type mecha that could once cleave the Insect Disaster with a swing; now you are a mismatched-limbed, patchwork strange robot.

Previously, your energy was indeed depleted, but fortunately, nearby your location there is a source of radiation that can replenish the Energy Core; after lying there for a year, you revived.

Afterward, you used the faint energy to find a few barely functional mechs, and thereafter you have relied on the discarded energy within the Scrap Mountain to scrape by.

You are like a wandering soul, sometimes wondering if you can only remain like this forever, forever staying here, forever accompanied by scrap.

Of course not; you are gold, and there will surely be a day when you shine....