In the villa, Chen Mo lounged on the sofa, quietly flipping through a thick book. Whenever he had free time these days, he read. His personal goal: finish 1,000 books before graduation.
Not for show. Just habit now. Progress, page by page.
Just as he became absorbed in the text, his phone buzzed.
"Mo-ge, incoming message," said Ink Girl's voice.
"What is it?"
"Shugel's dead. Suicide."
Chen Mo paused, surprised.
"So fast?"
He hadn't expected Shugel to fold so quickly. But, after a second of thought, he wasn't shocked either. The evidence leaked had implicated too many people. If Shugel hadn't taken his own life, someone else surely would have taken care of it. The web was too tangled, too deep.
The goal had been achieved.
Kill with a borrowed knife.
And it worked. The shadow behind him was gone. Now, he could finally get back to his own work without worrying about bullets or mercenaries at his back.
Still, Chen Mo wasn't smiling. He had witnessed too much darkness. Capital and power—those things were monsters with bottomless bellies. The deeper you were pulled in, the more likely you'd be eaten.
The line was thin.
As he set down his phone, Xiao Yu emerged from the bathroom, drying her hair, then curled up beside him on the couch, switching on the TV.
"You should rest at home for another couple of days. No need to go back to work yet," Chen Mo said, gently massaging the back of her neck.
"There's still a pile of things at the company," Xiao Yu muttered.
"Zhao Min can handle it. You just focus on recovering. Your neck's still stiff—like a long-necked goose. Wait for it to return to normal."
"You're the long-necked goose!" she shot back, giving him a light slap. "I'm going in tomorrow."
"You go in, I deduct your salary."
"You dare?"
"I'll cut off your lunch money."
"You—! Hmph!" Xiao Yu pouted, folding her arms, but couldn't help the laugh bubbling up. "Fine, I'll stay."
"Good goose."
"You...!" She didn't know how to respond anymore. Something about the way Chen Mo messed with her—she couldn't resist.
—
That night, the news exploded.
Apple Board Member Shugel Commits Suicide
Sinister Truth Behind the Suicide of the Arms Industry Giant
News outlets worldwide caught fire.
Shugel had been the former CEO of Northrop Grumman, the third-largest arms dealer in the world, and currently sat on Apple's board. His status alone was enough to cause ripples.
With his death, things spiraled.
Soon, the criminal evidence behind it all surfaced—triggering public outrage. The revelations weren't just about him. Other high-profile names were listed, including U.S. politicians and military officials.
The net was wide. And it tightened quickly.
Forums, social media, and global press ran wild:
"This is unbelievable. There's so much going on behind the scenes we'll never see."
"Feels like I'm watching a Netflix thriller—except this is real."
"If this is just the tip of the iceberg, what's underneath?"
Federal investigations followed. More arrests. More silence. No one wanted to talk. Everyone wanted to survive.
The world watched in awe and horror.
But for Chen Mo, the storm had passed.
The shadows moved on.
—
It had been half a month since the incident.
Whether out in the open or hidden behind curtains, none of it touched Chen Mo anymore. He stayed quiet, kept his head down.
Work. Study. Build.
Each day, he went to the company, assembled parts in the lab, read more books at home. His schedule was simple. Focused.
The robot project was almost done.
At last, today, he twisted in the final screw.
With a click, he dropped the screwdriver and stepped back, arms folded, staring at the machine laid out on the workbench like a sleeping warrior.
Still unpainted, the robot had the raw colors of carbon aluminum alloy and synthetic polymer. No cosmetics—just bones and muscle.
Chen Mo took a breath.
The robot had been tough work.
Its chassis housed three carbon-based batteries—one in each thigh and one in the torso. Thankfully, carbon crystal batteries were light and dense, making them ideal for power storage without sacrificing mobility.
The real power drain, though, was its control system—a decentralized microcomputer network.
Each joint had its own CPU, handling local control and motion interpolation. The central processor in the head coordinated system-wide operations, motion logic, and data communication.
This distributed setup offloaded work from the central brain, improving efficiency.
To move?
Servo motors, stepper actuators, and hydraulic dampers powered every limb, mimicking human motion. The robot's feet even had shock-absorbing systems to stabilize upright walking.
But bipedal movement was tricky.
To walk like a human, the robot relied on a gyroscope-based balance system to stay upright.
The outer casing held a host of sensors: laser, thermal, acoustic, and fluid—its eyes, ears, skin, and nerves.
All that said, Chen Mo wasn't sure how long it would last on a single charge. Still, time to test.
He flipped the switch.
A faint whir hummed through the room as the robot's chest and pupil sensors lit up, casting a soft glow.
Online.
Chen Mo exhaled. "Ink Girl, can you connect?"
"Of course~"
"Don't run full AI simulation. This robot can't handle your full system. Just issue movement commands."
"Understood."
As she finished speaking, the robot slowly sat up on the bench.
Chen Mo checked the diagnostics. No errors. Everything within expected tolerances.
"Stand up," he ordered.
Clack-clack—thud!
The robot took one step and immediately collapsed.
Chen Mo winced. "Balance system failure?"
"Nope," Ink Girl replied. "Your robot's fine. But I don't have enough reference data on how the human body walks. Without that, I can't simulate stride strength or balance dynamically."
"So… how do we fix it?"
"I need to scan a human walking. If I can record their movements, I can mimic the motion."
Chen Mo laughed softly. "Looks like we're doing motion capture tomorrow."
He powered down the robot, gently lifted it back to the bench, covered it with a sheet, and pulled out his phone.
"Zhao Min."
"Chairman?"
"Send two treadmills to the lab. I need them for a motion test tomorrow."
"Got it."
With that done, he glanced at the robot once more before heading upstairs. Progress was slow, but it was real.
Step by step.