The Record of Unusual Creatures

Chapter 722: The Slums

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The factories in Black Street operated day and night; the dense black smoke from the towering chimneys shrouded the entire city. When standing at a higher point in town, one could even see the haze descending slowly from the sky like a veil. The smoke left a coat of gray and black soot in the neighborhood. That was one of the things that gave Black Street its name. In the modern world of the Nanomachine Swarm, many heavy industries were still unable to get rid of traditional production methods due to technical limitations.

In Black Street, large machinery and arms factories were the biggest industries.

Hao Ren exited the crowded slum and saw the towering factory buildings lining the streets. There were giant reactor towers and pressure vessels in the urban areas. He could hear the roar of the machines coming from the nearby factories as he walked along the street. Meanwhile, people were hustling along the sidewalks on both sides of the road. Most of them were the poor, emotionless and dressed in shabby clothing. They had just finished their synthetic food, and they were now flocking like ants to the factory—the mechanical beast, which engulfed and kept them alive at the same time. Some people used rags to cover their faces to protect themselves from the dust in the air. But the dirty rags were not any cleaner than the air they breathed. The atmosphere was slowly contaminating and irreversibly destroying their lungs. They had to rely on the Nanomachine Swarm to prolong their lives after the age of 30 or 40. After that, they would quickly die.

“Since the Nanomachine Swarm are still in use, why didn’t anyone think of using these things to solve the pollution problem in the city?” Hao Ren murmured to himself.

A loud, low voice came from the side. “Solve the pollution? People who thought this way had all died decades ago. Now it is an era where people only live day to day.”

Hao Ren turned his head and surprised to see Ulyanov behind him. “Hey, when did you come here?”

“This is where I come often. I know the slum very well,” Ulyanov looked up at the factories not far away. “Yesterday someone reported that after you left the base, you disappeared into the alleys of the slums. Nolan let me come to collect your body. It’s a surprise to see you on the main street. Well, it looks like you have survived your first night in the dark alleys. What makes you so interested here?”

“Nothing, just mooching around,” Hao Ren knew that Ulyanov was still suspicious of him, so he answered casually. “I have told you before; I can’t always stay with you guys, I need to find a place to stay. Don’t worry; whatever I do I’m not an enemy of Gray Fox.”

“Nolan couldn’t care less. I’m just busy body here,” Ulyanov said. “It’s better not to come to this place. Many people here are no fans of Gray Fox. You’ll get yourself into trouble.”

Hao Ren gestured with his hand as if saying he understood. “Tell me: is there any additional cost for solving the urban pollution with Nanomachine Swarm? Is the thing not self-sufficient?”

“The Nanomachine Swarm is indeed self-sufficient, but the control center is costly, and the bigger cost is these—” Ulyanov said, raising his hand pointing to the poor people from the slums. “The factories don’t need healthy men to operate the machines. The city does not need the elderly. The mission of these slags is work in the factory until they are forty-five years old. The owners of the factories don’t like strong and smart workers; it would be best if the workers are illiterate and no retirement needs. So there is no need to let them live for too long. As for the factory owners and warlords, they have their own ecological houses, isolated from the outside world. They have also said that there will also be a meadow, cheap and quickl to build, for the people to enjoy.”

Hao Ren listened on, wide-eyed. As an earthling, he could not understand this thinking. “Maintain this status quo? Isn’t it a little too short-sighted?”

“Short-sighted? What is your long-term vision?” Ulyanov laughed hoarsely. “To improve the environment and To recreate a vibrant and sustainable society? I remember that many people had the same thinking decades ago. But it turned out that no one could live long enough accomplish these goals. Someone says that every regime in the world could only last for an average of four and a half years, no one will invest in business longer than this cycle.”

As Ulyanov finished, he patted Hao Ren’s shoulder. “Short-sightedness is necessary because most people cannot live beyond what they could see.”

Hao Ren blurted out. “But you live long enough…”

“Because I’m just alive,” Ulyanov turned. “Since I the injury, I could no longer bleed but only electrolyte and nutrient medium. My goal is simple—to be alive. This kind of person would live long enough.”

Hao Ren was speechless. In a world of chaos, thinkers and enlighteners might be the first to die because they were using the energy for survival in other things, such as dreams. The MDT suddenly mumbled in his mind. “This is why grasses can transcend into immortals while fruits and vegetables have not the chance to even dream: they make wishes in the morning, but people stewed them in the afternoon. Who can still have dreams when they cannot even live long enough to see dreams come true?”

Let us give credit where credit is due; as bitchy as the MDT was; it did make a pretty good conclusion.

Hao Ren followed Ulyanov back to the Gray Fox base. While they were turning into a corner and nobody was looking, he reached into his dimensional pocket and quickly yanked out a silver-gray gadget. The tiny device looked like an inconspicuous metal toad, but it landed quietly on the ground and quickly slid into a dark corner. It was a beacon transmitter that Hao Ren had produced on-board factory on the Petrachelys in the morning. The beacon would automatically find the weakest spot to unfold itself and then transmit a powerful navigation signal into space. As long as Zorm was in the Plane of Dreams, the drone clusters would be able to pick up the signal and find it.

Even it was tens of billions of light years away.

But things would get more complicated if the distance were not purely physical. And it did seem so.

He had no problem contacting CARS and the drone clusters from the planet Zorm, which meant that the data link is stable. But the problem was that he could not trace the exact location where the signal came from. It was like hiding its IP address to stay anonymous. Meanwhile, CARS and the drone clusters were unable to resolve this anonymity unidirectionally. That was why Hao Ren had to plant an active beacon transmitter on planet Zorm. He had also considered that the beacon might fail, and when this happened, he would consider releasing a probe from here to see if it could navigate its way through space and reach the regular universe, and if so, at least that meant space was continuous. If not, he could figure out the extent of the distortion. It was one of the backup plans.

After leaving the factory district, Hao Ren looked back at the towering black buildings. “This place is depressing.”

“Maybe. At least people can still live on here. The factory is the only choice for most people, the wasteland outside is worse,” Ulyanov seemed to be sighing, or maybe he was laughing silently. “The only hope for the ‘slags’ here is becoming cannon fodder for some mercenary group. As long as they can survive for a few weeks, they will be able to live like a normal human being; all their diseases would heal. You know, it is simple to cure their lung and blood diseases—as simple as a tube of Nanomachine Swarm and thirty-minute time. But this is the most precious resource of Black Street. There are limited rations. Everyone in slums is willing to trade for this treatment opportunity with all they have. So I’m still very curious about the reason for Khiton’s treachery. When Nolan pulled him out of the ghetto, his lungs were almost gone; his blood had accumulated forty years of toxins and failed, inferior Nanomachines. A typical slug, without being selected as cannon fodder, Nolan gave him the opportunity to live yet he turned out to be a traitor.”

Hao Ren remembered Khiton’s diary, which he had seen. He whispered. “Probably he was brainwashed or something.”

“The Rangers brainwashed him? Ulyanov laughed. “Yeah, maybe. He was simple-minded.”

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