Chapter 1514 - 486: Twisted Inhuman World (Part 2)

Chapter 1514: Chapter 486: Twisted Inhuman World (Part 2)

On both sides of the street are towering silver buildings, with surfaces flowing with real-time data. Countless Mechanical Bodies move along this "commuter artery," forming several different colored "rivers."

Of course, the most eye-catching are those colorful billboards.

He saw such a billboard.

[Paid Work. Just pay one Mechanical Coin daily to qualify for eight hours of regular work! Recent graduates of Mechanical University want to pay two Mechanical Coins; if already experienced, veteran Mechanical Bodies can reduce it to a daily fee of 0.7 Mechanical Coins for work enjoyment.]

[The company regularly holds overtime, team-building, and other high-quality activities. Overtime requires paying the boss overtime fees. Our company promises: Ensuring employees’ overtime duration is no less than twelve hours.]

[Excellent veteran employees can even enjoy the privilege of bringing family members to work overtime annually (family members need to pay). Contact us to enjoy an eternally joyful job. We’re not comparable to those 996 idle companies; with us, you won’t be troubled by the too-low working hours of a 996 model.]

Wen Xishu was shocked by this billboard.

Paid work? Is this the kind of life humans can come up with? Even to promote non-human... it’s unnecessarily deliberate, isn’t it?

But he quickly realized a logic.

If work can bring joy and alleviate depression...

Then doesn’t work equal—rest?

So, in essence, isn’t it similar to the human world? Rest has indeed reached a point in some era where it requires payment.

"You have watched the advertisement for 3 seconds, earning ’Active Consumer Participation’ credit score +0.1"

An information appeared in Wen Xishu’s eyes. He wanted to laugh a little but couldn’t due to accumulated depression.

Turns out I’m truly damn wealthy, an elite, a noble middle class...

Wen Xishu truly didn’t expect himself to be the noble "can receive salary for working" Mechanical Race.

Indeed, when he stepped out of the luxurious mechanical cabin, he felt some envious gazes.

A large number of old model Mechanical Bodies on the outside seemed intentionally marginalized, walking on the outer edge of the main street.

They had scratches and patches on their shells, movements somewhat stuttering. Clearly, their work efficiency wasn’t high; they were the main force in paid work.

But because they paid to work, they couldn’t upgrade their bodies. Thus, their work efficiency was low, and the delight they gained would also decrease.

They constantly struggled on the path against depression, becoming older and trapped in a vicious cycle.

Absolutely, why does it seem familiar?

Wen Xishu soon saw an energy supplement store called kfc, and this store’s billboard wrote:

[50 Mechanical Coins, and you can enjoy a day of non-depressive pleasure on Thursday. Our energy agent not only supplements energy but effectively alleviates depression, even creates a sense of joy. Have you tried looking at the world from a happy perspective during non-working phases?]

Mechanical Coins...

This is something that middle classes like Wen Xishu could enjoy after working for a month.

Undoubtedly, kfc had already become a high-end venue.

But indeed, a small number of wealthy people—those with cool mecha designs—would nonchalantly walk in.

The poor would even be chased away just by lingering at the entrance and smelling the energy agent.

Wen Xishu suddenly recalled a country from a previous life where the poor weren’t allowed into fried chicken stores.

One must admit, the rich are indeed rich.

He still didn’t understand mecha at the moment, but seeing the special luster on the wealthy, he could sense that even a single screw on them was more expensive than an ordinary person’s entire body.

Even as a middle class, comparing to the wealthy, there was a sense of "I’m a mass-produced Zaku, he’s a Strike Freedom."

Unlike human society, although there’s a group particularly fond of using luxury goods to showcase their distinct circle, such people seem overly animalistic instead.

At least most times, the diverse individuals in human cities do not appear to have a particularly clear-cut hierarchy.

Wen Xishu was about to reach the factory.

But soon he saw an unsettling scene.

A section of road before the factory is a standard slum area, awaiting planning but still unplanned.

An old C-class model suddenly stops, its chest observation window with a core processor flashing red light, emitting intermittent alarms: "De...tect...ing...component aging...request..."

In less than 10 seconds, a black van silently glides over, bearing the "Repair and Recycling Bureau" logo.

Two Mechanical Bodies in standard uniforms, expressionless, get off the car, confirm the old model’s serial number with a scanner, and directly lift it onto the vehicle.

Throughout the process, not a single surrounding Mechanical Body stops or turns. It’s as if a fallen leaf is being swept away.

Yet Wen Xishu heard this sentence from the old C-class model:

"Once upon a time... I was also a middle-class. Who would’ve thought, just because of component aging, I would be slain as a vagrant."

After the black van left, the automatic floor cleaning device slid over, erasing the marks left by the old model.

Everything, as if nothing ever happened.

Probably, tonight some factory will receive some old waiting-to-be-refurbished parts, and shortly after some store’s window will have brand-new prosthetics.

Who knows.

On a rudimentary mechanical cabin somewhere, many traces of old peeled-off metal can be seen.

Wen Xishu was once again surprised when he saw a mother educating a child.