Alex brought the two back to the inn and pointed at One’s elbow. “Look, your clothes got torn in the fight. Go sew it up yourself. Don’t let the guests see us as a joke.”
With that, he slammed the door shut heavily, not giving the people inside any chance to speak.
Xie Jianxun lowered his head and looked closely. Everything else was fine, but the elbow part of his sleeve had been burned through by the laser, revealing the pitch-black lining fabric underneath…
Black?
Wait a minute, when did One ever wear a black undershirt?
It was the charred bionic synthetic skin and the forcibly exposed metal joints!
He reacted immediately. “You’re injured!”
The mechanical puppet’s shirt was snow-white, its skin snow-white, and now this patch of dark joint structure was exposed, like a corner of an oil painting that had been set ablaze, leaving a jagged, ruined hole.
He seemed to only just notice it himself and looked down.
“Ah,” One said lightly and dismissively, “Sorry, I didn’t pay attention to that…”
As he spoke, the mechanical puppet walked to the wooden wardrobe, unbuttoned his shirt without any guard up, and took it off.
In the time it took Xie Jianxun to lower his head, he was already bare-chested, lifting the crow-black curls at the side of his neck and lowering his eyes to check the external energy slot.
At his left elbow, the external bionic skin had been completely burned away, and the internal structure wasn’t entirely intact either.
At the very least, as he moved, Xie Jianxun heard several grinding sounds from obstructed parts.
He rushed over to stop him. “Don’t move anymore!”
One lowered his hand, his soft curls falling with it, and turned back to gaze at him.
The mechanical puppet didn’t need to look down at his own injury.
He knew his body’s damage status, but that didn’t stop him from looking at Xie Jianxun with bright eyes. “Are you feeling sorry for me?”
His voice was subtle, laced with pleasure.
Xie Jianxun nearly rolled his eyes at him.
An ordinary person would be in agony from such an injury—either rushing to a doctor or lying down to rest. But for a mechanical puppet, it was like nothing; even losing a hand was no different from a haircut, so he didn’t take the injury seriously.
Xie Jianxun said, “Whatever needs doing next, I’ll handle it—no moving, got it? No moving!”
The mechanical puppet let out a puzzled hum from his throat and saw Xie Jianxun frowning, glaring at him unhappily.
“If I hadn’t known Huo Jing, you two wouldn’t have run into each other and gotten into a big fight, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” He muttered on, not allowing One to refuse.
“No matter how you look at it, it all started with me. It’s only right that I take responsibility.”
The mechanical puppet sighed softly. “It has nothing to do with you…”
Xie Jianxun wasn’t listening to a word of it.
He borrowed Alex’s toolbox and used tweezers to pick out the tiny debris stuck in the joint, preventing further damage from movement.
The mechanical puppet sat quietly on the bed, his skin snow-white, like a life-sized mechanical doll.
He only wore a pair of pitch-black uniform trousers, slightly hunched over, with his arm resting on his bent knee to make it easier for Xie Jianxun to work.
Once everything was cleared, Xie Jianxun let out a long breath and set down the tweezers.
“You’ll probably still need a mechanic to fix it properly. Handling it yourself like this might miss a lot of details.”
He recalled the mechanical repair shop he’d seen before and the apprentice recruitment notice, feeling a bit tempted.
“Let’s go to the mechanical repair shop—maybe find a part-time job while we’re at it.”
He clenched his fist and tapped his palm, his tone resolute. “It’s settled.”
But first, he needed to inform his current boss about the part-time plan.
What if the boss thought it was a bad idea and that it would interfere with the inn’s normal operations? Then the plan would fall through.
Fortunately, Alex didn’t mind and even adjusted his schedule, putting all his shifts in the morning.
That left Xie Jianxun with more time in the afternoons and evenings for his own affairs.
“Also, One might not be able to do heavy work for a while.”
Xie Jianxun leaned over the counter and whispered this to Alex.
Alex glanced disdainfully at One. “What, did the fight give him psychological trauma?”
“He…”
Xie Jianxun racked his brains, not wanting to reveal One’s identity as a mechanical puppet.
Just then, One walked over and spoke up voluntarily. “It’s my arm that’s the problem.”
He rolled up his shirt sleeve, exposing his pale, sturdy upper arm and the obviously non-human joint. Alex jolted in shock and climbed onto the counter.
His first reaction: “Prosthetic limb?”
But he immediately shook his head, rejecting his own guess.
He stared fixedly at that section of pitch-black metal, as if digging up some deep-buried memory from his mind, his gaze gradually sharpening.
“Golden City rarely sees ones like you. I believe they only came from outside over a dozen years ago—I’ve heard the elders mention it.”
Alex said, “I never imagined they still exist… Mechanical puppet?”
He ventured the term uncertainly, and One nodded, confirming it.
The young inn boss’s mouth fell open as he straightened up. “This is my first time seeing a live mechanical puppet… You’re one too?”
He asked Xie Jianxun.
Xie Jianxun laughed wryly. “No, I’m pure human.”
The young boss’s expression was like pie falling from the sky or getting bonked on the head by a huge lottery ticket.
Shock and delight left his face blank.
“…I never dreamed my inn would hire a mechanical puppet as staff!”
Alex still seemed incredulous. “I heard those mechanical puppets that came over a dozen years ago were born warriors, aces at fighting bugs.”
One said, “Because their chips were loaded with Insect Clan weaknesses.”
Alex looked thrilled beyond belief.
He had admired the heroic mechanical puppets from the tales since childhood, especially those from years ago when the Insect Clan invaded Desert Star. The Federation had sent a ship of them, who protected the civilians evacuating the old Golden City site amid the crisis, wiped out the Insect Clan, and allowed the new Golden City to be built in the desert.
He sighed repeatedly, amazed that he’d kept on an anti-bug hero!
So Xie Jianxun seized the chance to ask for time off and took One to the mechanical repair shop. The young boss approved it readily.
Xie Jianxun only had the meager wages from his few days working at the inn. He needed a shop that was cheap but skilled.
So poor! He’d have to stretch every penny into three parts.
Repairing a mechanical puppet sounded like it’d cost a chunk of money, plus materials fees and such… Xie Jianxun didn’t dare think further.
After asking around, he learned this street in the area only had the one shop, so he resigned himself to it.
The two arrived at the mechanical repair shop’s door. The triangular wooden stand was still placed outside, and the recruitment notice was curling at one corner, swaying in the wind.
A small wooden “Open” sign hung at the entrance. Xie Jianxun pushed the door open, and a wave of warm air hit him, along with the whirring of a small fan.
The walls were full of pegboards and nails, hung with tools of all sizes and colors. A huge bundle of iron wire was looped on a rack at the bottom of one pegboard, dangling crookedly.
Like a chain reaction, the sound of parts rolling came from behind the glass counter.
An old man poked his head out from the back, raising one eyebrow high.
“I’ve got twenty-five orders ahead. If you want repairs, wait your turn—I’m swamped!”
The old man shouted, “What do you want?!”
He looked fierce, wrinkles carved like gullies across his face. He wore a dusty brown cotton-linen jacket, with a thick, messy beard drooping over his collar, clutching an ancient wrench in his hand.
He looked like if Xie Jianxun didn’t give a good answer, he’d lunge over and twist the wrench onto their noses.
Xie Jianxun ventured, “Can’t you take a break?”
The old man rolled his eyes, but his body was honest enough—he tossed the wrench aside, leaned back heavily, and caught his breath.
“If I rest, who fixes stuff for the Insect Clan hunters, mercenaries, adventure groups, and merchant caravans? You?”
Xie Jianxun: “Sure, I could.”
The old man: “…”
He eyed Xie Jianxun’s appearance and snorted, lowering his raised eyebrow. He lazily shook his beard, brushing out the iron shavings stuck inside. “What rich young master are you?”
One stepped forward and said earnestly, “Sir, we’re here to get something repaired.”
The shopkeeper old man stood up and poured himself a pot of hot tea. Steam was still rising, so the water was scalding, but he didn’t care, gulping it down.
After finishing, he wiped his mouth sloppily. “What needs fixing? Fill out a queue slip.”
As he turned to fetch the slips, a young man’s voice came from behind, slightly inorganic in tone: “Me.”
…
Xie Jianxun returned to the inn first.
Alex was in the lobby greeting guests. Seeing him enter, he fiddled with the calculator on his light brain while casually asking, “Where’s One?”
Xie Jianxun answered honestly, “Still getting fixed over there.”
Just earlier, the shopkeeper old man seemed not to have heard One clearly and bellowed again, “I’m asking you—what needs fixing?!”
One: “Me.”
Only then did the shopkeeper old man slowly lower his huge hot iron pot and turn around, looking at him with utter disbelief, like a dentist seeing a pig.
Not entirely unrelated, but utterly helpless.
He said slowly, “Before coming in, you should know this isn’t a clinic, right?”
In response, the young man walked up to him, exposed his pitch-black mechanical elbow joint, and said calmly, “Fix this.”
The shopkeeper old man frowned at it for a moment, then seemed to realize something. He was shocked speechless.
Stammering, he said, “I only saw ones like this many years ago… You’re one of those from before… No, impossible. It’s been so long, and besides, they all… underground…”
As he spoke, the shopkeeper old man’s body even swayed.
He seemed lost in memories from over a dozen years ago, his eyes growing hazy, but soon he snapped back, gazing at One’s face with a complicated expression.
He softened his voice, as if addressing a true doll.
“Are you… one of those from back then?”
One didn’t give a direct answer but lifted his arm again and asked, “Old sir, can you fix it?”
The shopkeeper old man managed, “I… I need to take a look.”
He rummaged two chairs out from a pile of iron-gray debris and beckoned Xie Jianxun and One to sit. Then he rifled through cabinets and drawers, finally yanking open the bottom drawer of a multi-grid wooden cabinet and pulling out a toolbox that looked dust-sealed for years.
He slapped it casually, sending dust everywhere.
Xie Jianxun covered his nose and started coughing.
The shopkeeper old man showed no remorse and apologized offhandedly. “Sorry, it’s been too long since I pulled it out and wiped it down. Good timing today—let this old partner see the light of day again.”
He glanced up at One, his eyes mixed with admiration and respect.
It was hard to imagine seeing that from an old man of his age, especially with the age gap between them.
