Chapter 85: Mecha vs. Monsters

Before arriving in China, Tang Mo Fei had constantly refused to believe that Jiang Heng could make a mech that looked extremely textured and unbelievably realistic.

The reason, of course, was that he thought China at that time was too backward—a country whose automobile industry was still in its seedling stage, with the streets filled with imported and joint‑venture cars, making it impossible to produce a good mech movie.

Though film is merely an art, it still needs soil in which to be born.

For example, Chinese wuxia and myth stories—Americans simply cannot film them well.

But science‑fiction, space, and mech subjects are exactly the Americans' strong suit!

Now a Chinese has taken the lead, and no matter how hard you chase, you can't catch up; the feeling is beyond infuriating.

All you can hope for is that Pacific Rim's quality is poor and its so‑called IMAX effect is junk.

Unexpectedly, the footage was filled with maxed‑out visual effects and unbelievably realistic details, leaving Tang Mo Fei at a loss for how to describe his feelings at that moment.

Especially the shot of the Wanderer slowly entering the Alaskan sea on a rainy night—it was just too cool.

He wondered how to advise Mai Ke Er Bei so that he could surpass Pacific Rim.

On the screen, in the ocean, a massive fishing vessel encounters a monster and doesn't know how to escape.

The nearly 80‑meter‑tall Wanderer rides the waves, extends a huge iron hand to lift the fishing boat out of the water, leaving the audience in the theater staring in amazement.

"It's seriously so thrilling!"

"How did they film that?!"

"So realistic—does a mech like this really exist in the world?"

"Maybe the United States has one!"

"Impossible—if it existed, they'd have already used it to scare people!"

For Chinese people in 2001, the United States was an extremely powerful presence, which was one reason many loved Haolaiwu movies.

Thus, for a considerable portion of Chinese viewers, watching Jiang Heng's special‑effects blockbusters feels extraordinarily dreamy.

It's the kind of feeling where you think he couldn't possibly pull off such quality, yet the results far exceed your expectations, and during that viewing you experience a strange delight.

Among the thousand‑person audience on site, there are indeed some people like that.

Those who didn't come were full of "bearish" talk, and once seated in the theater they burst out with a string of "Wocao"!

Especially when they saw the Wanderer use its plasma cannon to blast the monster's gut open, they had to utter several "Wocao" in a row to convey their excitement.

"That's just too cool, the action looks so realistic!"

"Did those two get excited too early?"

"Finishing without a follow‑up strike is pure brain‑dead!"

While the audience was debating, the monster leapt out of the sea, slapped the Wanderer's head, and thrust its massive spines from its crown into the Wanderer's mech chest cavity.

The male lead charged the plasma cannon again, but it was already too late; the monster viciously tore at the Wanderer's limbs, ripping off its left arm as if the beast were devouring a person.

Even worse, it tore open the cockpit and literally snatched out the pilot played by Xie Tingfeng.

Inside the theater, the audience stared solemnly at the big screen, eager to see how the male lead would turn the tide.

The only thing that could solve the immediate dilemma was, of course, the plasma cannon.

Unfortunately, its charge was too slow; during that time the monster kept gnawing the hard mech, and the male lead, whose neurons were linked, wailed in pain as if the crippled mech itself were crying out.

Fortunately, the plasma cannon finally fired, and both the Wanderer and the monster vanished.

As the audience worried about the male lead's fate, the camera shifted to an elderly man leading a child, strolling along the snowy seashore in search of treasure.

"Oh, my god!"

It was the old man on the screen, shouting at something in the distance.

The camera panned again, revealing a scene that countless movie‑goers would never forget.

A pair of colossal iron legs rose from the sea, filling the entire big screen.

The camera tilted upward as the steel giant rode the waves back through wind and snow, bracing with a single arm, only to crash to the ground the instant it reached shore, as if heralding the end of an era.

It was so towering that when its knee bent, even a tiny component on it stood far taller than a human.

Yet it was so powerless that the spray of mud and sand upon impact rose dozens of meters high, showing how disastrous the fall was.

The strongest mech, the Wanderer, was gravely wounded.

Its pilot was covered in injuries, staggered out, and collapsed headfirst onto the snow.

The camera pulled upward, showing the tiny humans beside the Wanderer's wreckage, moving the audience in the theater to a melancholy sigh.

Afterwards came a transitional segment: the monsters evolved faster and faster, while humanity's mechs were becoming insufficient.

Coastal cities around Pacific Rim were repeatedly ravaged by monsters, and many mechs were destroyed in battle; eventually, the nations decided to abandon the Mech Hunter Project and rebuild coastal defense walls.

The Black General who had overseen the mech hunters felt resentful and argued with the American representative, who promised him that he could lead the remaining mech hunters to a final battle in Hong Kong. Funding, however, lasted only the final eight months until the seaside defense wall was completed.

The general overseeing the mech hunter plan selected, and Columbia Company recommended Samuel Jackson; Jiang Heng naturally had no objections, since he had seen him appear in many Federation film series, making him at least familiar.

On screen, the plot advances as the male lead goes to Sitka, Alaska, joins the construction of the coastal defense wall, and becomes a down‑and‑out welder.

Yet he learns from TV that, for monsters, this thing is basically as flimsy as paper‑mâché.

The workers spent years building, while monsters could demolish it in less than an hour.

The male lead was shocked, the audience fell silent, and a twist emerged.

On TV, Australia's Eureka Striker mech, leveraging its high mobility, heavy copper fists, and chest‑mounted missiles, easily took down a Level‑4 monster.

Because it was daytime, the fight was crystal‑clear, and the audience saw a towering, bizarre monster clearly for the first time.

They watched helplessly as it was knocked down, exposing huge teeth and a tongue.

"Wocao, this Eureka Striker's mobility is insane!"

"Yeah, if the Wanderer's plasma cannon had that rate of fire, Xie Tingfeng wouldn't have died!"

"The attack is so fluid!"

Listening to the Eureka Striker's pilot on TV say that the Mech Hunter Project was terminated, entirely because of his own incompetence as a driver.

When the male lead left in a sour mood, a helicopter slowly landed at the construction site entrance, and the Black General came to invite the male lead back to the team.

At first it was definitely a refusal, but in the end it still came back.

Amid the soaring soundtrack, a helicopter flies over the bay and reaches the mech hunter training base.

At that moment, a person wearing a long black coat and holding a huge black umbrella walks straight toward them.

The camera pans again, a woman steps forward, gently lifts the umbrella—she is the short, ear‑length‑haired, cold‑elegant Gao Yuanyuan.

The soaring music, the continuous drizzle, the black umbrella and attire, together with the large helicopter slowly descending ahead, all signal that this woman is no ordinary person!

Today was work and writing again, barely any free time; I really can't hold on. I'm short a chapter, but I'll definitely make it up this weekend!

(End of chapter)