On top of Vajra’s roof, Shen Cong watered the Mechanical Vine, then added a few scraps of fatty meat and metal shavings.
The vine liked both kinds of nourishment. He could see it put out thread-like roots, gripping the fat and metal fragments and slowly consuming them. But the leaves still looked a little wilted — it had never managed to recover the lush green vibrancy of its original host plant.
Worse, this cutting didn’t seem to move at all. No matter how he touched it, there was no response. That was the whole reason he’d bothered cultivating it — he’d wanted a vine that moved.
Disappointing.
“Big ant! Big ant!”
The children behind the fence suddenly erupted.
They’d spotted Blackhead on her morning stroll.
Blackhead was hardly a secret anymore. Plenty of survivors in camp kept evolved beasts as pets. Mutation had warped most animals’ temperaments — twisted their minds — but not all of them. Some evolved beasts had come through with their intelligence intact. Li Junfu, the man Shen Cong had encountered back at Wangba, kept a mongrel evolved dog named Heidou.
Taming evolved beasts was an ongoing research topic at the Research Institute. The organization Shen Cong had once pinned such hopes on had produced almost nothing useful on the theoretical side — but in practical applications, they had their moments. The camp kept several evolved cats and dogs, even a few evolved snakes.
Shen Cong, however, was the only person in camp who kept an insect as a pet.
“Big ant! Big ant! Such a big big ant!” The children were still going at it behind the fence.
He was ignoring them — until something in their noise struck a spark.
The reason he’d been able to build a perceptual link with Blackhead was that his Activity had influenced her development, and the Antgod’s, from early on. So.
What if he tried influencing the Mechanical Vine’s growth with his Activity now?
The thought hit and he acted on it immediately. He tuned his Activity radiation frequency to match the Mechanical Vine’s, then pushed Activity into it.
First attempt: resistance.
The Mechanical Vine wasn’t a dying ant egg. It had no desperate survival drive pulling it toward him, so it pushed back. Shen Cong wasn’t discouraged. He tried again. Activity surged into the vine — which resisted harder.
That was fine. He could outlast it.
After several rounds of back-and-forth, the vine had no choice but to accept the infusion and stop fighting. The moment his Activity flooded through it completely, a faint perceptual thread took hold — a connection, loose and uncertain, but real. He could feel the Mechanical Vine’s dim, murky emotional state.
Could plants have thoughts?
Probably not.
Could they have emotions? Consciousness of some kind?
That was a matter of interpretation. Before today, Shen Cong would never have believed plants had anything like feelings. But now he could sense something — something that didn’t have the clarity or force of Blackhead’s emotions or the Antgod’s, but was undeniably present.
It was more like the murmuring of a sleepwalker.
Vague impressions along the lines of: the sun on my leaves feels nice — full belly, comfortable — can’t spread my roots, uncomfortable — someone’s touching me, uncomfortable — the touching is getting warmer, comfortable — I am a vine and life is fine.
No communication. Just the vine talking to itself in its sleep.
The link was fuzzy.
Still — under the stimulus of his Activity, the previously wilted leaves perked up a little. A faint sheen returned to them.
He’d just have to wait until he found a proper container. Then see whether it could actually grow — whether it might eventually become a moving, reaching vine like its parent plant.
Evening.
Behind Vajra, Shen Cong sat across a table from a middle-aged survivor.
The table was something Li Aiping had traded for from the camp. She didn’t live out here, but she’d clearly prepared herself for long-term deployment.
“Liu Yanbing. Thirty-nine years old. Former technical specialist at JAC’s Italian design center, later transferred back to China for the third-generation Geerfa heavy truck development program, and currently adjunct instructor in die design and manufacturing at JAC University. Senior technician certification. Currently: Director of the Automotive Maintenance and Modification Laboratory at the Mingfa Camp Research Institute.”
Shen Cong read the file aloud.
Liu Yanbing didn’t look particularly happy about it. He glanced at the plastic watch on his wrist. “Squad Leader Hu, I assume you didn’t call me all the way out here just to read me my own résumé.”
Shen Cong ignored the tone. “My purpose is obvious. I’m an iron person. Vajra is too small. I need blueprints — then a full rebuild. Larger body, more power, stronger off-road capability, heavier armor, more functional interior systems.”
“For something like that, you can submit a modification request through the Research Institute’s Automotive Lab. We design upgrade plans for every iron person in camp.”
“I need the best.” Shen Cong didn’t dance around it. “I need blueprints that are nothing short of perfect. So — as a trade — tell me what you want. I’ll find a way to make it happen.”
“That would be overstepping.” Liu Yanbing’s brow creased.
“I only answer to Commander Zhao. Whatever I do will get his approval — you can be sure of that. You design the blueprints for me, and no one is going to give you grief over it.”
“You’re certain?” Something shifted in Liu Yanbing’s expression.
“My strength is the best proof I can offer. I’ll say this plainly: even if the Violent Ape King were alive and at full strength, I could kill it right now.” He let that land. “So. Name your terms.”
Liu Yanbing organized his thoughts. “The camp doesn’t allow us to take private work on the side. But since you’re vouching for it — fine, I’ll be direct. There’s a woman I like. She’s a mutant. She doesn’t think much of my situation. I’m not asking for anything dramatic — I just want her to give me a chance. A few days. See if something develops. No pressure on the outcome.”
Shen Cong’s mouth twitched.
Of all the demands he’d anticipated.
“Which woman?”
“Chen Wei.”
The name meant nothing to him. He called Li Aiping over. “Who’s Chen Wei?”
“Chen Wei?” Li Aiping thought for a moment. “Oh — right. She’s the squad leader of the Rainbow Militia Squad.”
“Is she seeing anyone?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Find a time to bring her out here. I need to have a word with her.” He turned back to Liu Yanbing. “Then we have a deal. Let’s talk about the blueprints.”
“Alright.”
Shen Cong didn’t let Liu Yanbing anywhere near Vajra. He simply laid out what he wanted and let Liu Yanbing design around the specifications.
His vision for Vajra 2.0: an off-road heavy truck built for combat. High offensive capability. High-grade armor. Strong mobility. Living quarters and cargo space didn’t need to be large — he could hunt for food in the field now; no reason to haul a stockpile. And since roads had been destroyed all over the region, off-road performance was non-negotiable. Not mountain-climbing, but at minimum: boulder fields, rivers a few meters deep, stretches of deep mud — passable without stopping.
Forty-five-degree slopes, at minimum, had to be scalable.
“This is a major undertaking.” Liu Yanbing exhaled. “I can only work on this after hours. Refining the blueprints properly could take a week — and a fully detailed set will take longer.”
“Pull in the whole Automotive Lab. Everyone works on this. I’ll compensate all of you. And don’t worry — I’ll explain the situation to Commander Zhao personally. No one will be accused of breaking camp rules.”
(End of Chapter 151)