Transformers: Survival of Defective Products

Chapter 41 Everything is a Plan

In the past few days, the vector has increasingly felt that some troubles have just changed their position, lying quietly, waiting for you to take a breather before taking another bite.

The same goes for Red Spider.

Some data, Red Spider will keep for itself.

He would process some data on the spot.

There's also a small portion that he'll extract separately, compress, reassemble, and then send to a fixed frequency band.

The receiving end has always been the same.

The access level is very high, and the header code is very clean, as if it is deliberately not intended for other machines to understand.

The vectors became more aware of this after a round of chest structural compatibility re-scans.

Red Spider stood in front of the control panel, her fingertips quickly tracing several layers of semi-transparent projections, extracting the abnormally reconstructed curve on her chest, and then casually overlaying it with the detailed feedback of the fire seed fluctuation record and the forearm guide rail.

Red Spider did not include them in the regular repair log.

He glanced down for a few seconds, then pressed his finger, and several records were integrated into a single data packet, which then silently slid into another transmission line.

He has definitely done this action more than once or twice.

Yin Xiang sat on the edge of the re-inspection table, his legs not yet down, but his gaze had already fallen on it.

Red Spider noticed, but without even looking up, he suddenly said, "You've been getting more and more interested in the user interfaces of other machines lately."

Without looking away, Yin Vector said, "You've been sending me materials more and more frequently lately."

Red Spider then turned to look at her, his expression unchanged, still cold and critical.

"The fact that you can understand that it's your information means that my recent teaching hasn't been in vain."

"I can also tell that it's not a regular archive," Vector said.

Red Spider dismissed this with disdain.

"Understanding half of something is not the same as understanding the whole thing."

That's practically an admission.

The vector looked at him: "So you are indeed showing some of my data to someone."

Red Spider slowly and deliberately removed the remaining two layers of the interface, as if the problem wasn't worth explaining.

"I send the worthwhile content to machines that can understand it," he said. "What's the problem with that?"

The problem is, I don't know who that is.

"Then continue to be clueless." Red Spider raised his eyes and said matter-of-factly, "What you need to care about most right now is not who I send my data to, but the third-order Cybertronian arm texture anatomy you haven't finished memorizing yet."

The vector was momentarily blocked, but the user still replied, "Aren't you afraid I'll look it up myself?"

"You can look it up." Red Spider's tone was chilling. "If you find it, then you're good. If you can't, then don't waste your curiosity on things that will slow you down."

After he finished speaking, he immediately pulled up the next round of structural diagrams, making it clear that he was not prepared to discuss it further.

The vector stared at the completely silent data channel for two seconds before finally looking away.

If Red Spider really doesn't want to talk, even if she stands on his control panel and throws a tantrum, he'll just drag her away while encrypting the data again.

But this discovery still left a thorn in her heart. The line was so stable that it didn't seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision; it seemed to have existed from the very beginning.

Just like from the moment she was truly placed into the Red Spider's research field of vision, there was something about her that was no longer something that only she knew.

-

After the arena management came to her door that night, on the surface, nothing more significant happened. At least no one continued to block the door or confront her directly.

The guards backstage will still let her in, but they will linger on her for a moment longer.

The registration machines in the outer supply area, which she usually wouldn't bother to look up at, now occasionally glance at the terminal screens when she passes by, clearly showing things that she shouldn't be looking at.

There were also a few ordinary gladiatorial matches that weren't particularly important, but the publicity and betting on them were excessively hyped, which was quite incongruous.

She sat on the edge of the stands, arms crossed, watching the two machines in the arena go through a round of fighting, and then both left injured. But she couldn't really relax in her mind.

Once, while passing by the medical corridor, I saw her staring blankly at the arena and casually remarked, "The way you look at the matches lately, it's like you're calculating someone's death date."

The vector gave him a disgruntled look.

"I just feel that the scheduling is wrong lately."

The knockdown paused for a moment, and the optical glasses stopped on her face for half a second.

"You've actually started looking at schedules now."

"What do you mean?"

"So, you're finally not just focused on who can get the machine into the ground like before," Knockout said lazily. "But you're right."

The vector suddenly looked up and stared straight at him.

Knockdown straightened the edge of his gauntlet, pondered for a moment, and then casually remarked, "Some matches feel like they're deliberately adding extra content for the audience. Other matches feel like they're specifically showing data to other machines."

He left as soon as he finished speaking, as if it were just a casual remark.

She caught the subtle hint, which practically confirmed her recent vague unease.

The gladiatorial arena had ulterior motives.

-

That day, she had just come out from the Red Spider's area, and there was still a bunch of parameter correction records on her left forearm terminal that she hadn't finished reviewing. She was making the corrections and was about to go to the Energy Bar to take over a short shift when, before she even left the technical area, the arena's public channel exploded.

The arena's official announcement directly followed the updated tournament schedule.

She hadn't originally planned to watch it. There's been so much of this kind of advertising these past few days that it annoys her at the slightest glance.

But the next second, the title that popped up on the terminal made her stop in her tracks.

[Notice of Schedule Adjustment for the Final Home Game]

Below are only two lines of names.

Zhen Tianzun.

Sound waves.

The entire vectoring machine was stopped there for a long time.

She stared at the two names, her first reaction not even "finally," but "why now?"

Then she realized what was happening.

Precisely because of now!

The flame in her chest seemed to be suddenly squeezed by something, and her limbs tensed up as well.

Damn shady dealings.

At this critical juncture, some people have forcibly linked sound waves with the Heavenly Venerable.

She looked down and scanned the update again, her fingertips tightening at the edge of the terminal.

The schedule has been moved up.

The two matches that were originally scheduled for later were moved, and a name that was already publicly listed was also temporarily removed to make way for them.

She immediately sent a message to Zhen Tianzun.

Did you see that?

This time, Zhen Tianzun's reply wasn't slow.

I saw it.

It was still that very flat tone.

She stared at the terminal and typed another sentence: "This is not part of the normal schedule."

Zhen Tianzun took a few seconds to reply.

【nonsense.】

After a pause, another line appeared.

Come and see tonight.

There was no further explanation, and it seemed as if there was no emotion involved.

The more he spoke in this tone, the more worried the vector became.

The vector control closed the interface and remained stationary.

The flow of machines in and out of the surrounding technical area continued as usual, and the beeping of traffic lights echoed over and over in the distance. The metal canopy of Qingqiu City was clean and cold, and everything looked so orderly that it would never go wrong.

Management needs a real drain on resources.

Let Zhen Tianzun fight seriously, and let Sheng Bo have no chance to hold back.

Then, regardless of who wins, neither side will be at their peak for at least a period of time.

Thinking of this, the spark in the vector fire suddenly ignited.

That's really dirty.

She knew before that the arena wasn't a clean place, but this was the first time she realized so clearly that they could actually send two machines of this caliber into the arena like chips.

It's all for the sake of exploitation.

She went to the energy bar with a sullen face, and ended up acting somewhat mechanically for the entire shift. Even the regular customer across from her, who usually loved to nitpick her dispensing speed, gave her a rare look and muttered, "Why do you look like you're about to bite a machine today?"

The vector was ignored.

She simply pushed the last energy liquid over, finished her work, and headed straight back.

She arrived earlier than usual that night.

As soon as the door to the residence opened, Zhen Tianzun was already inside.

The terminal projection was stuck on the schedule change, and it seemed like he had been looking at it for a while.

Yin Xiang closed the door and immediately asked, "When did you find out?"

"A little earlier than you." Zhen Tianzun raised his eyes. "There was wind backstage around noon today."

"Who put it there?"

"Who else could it be?" he said calmly. "Either it was someone appointed by higher-ups, or someone tacitly approved by them. This kind of last-minute scheduling is not something that can be done under normal circumstances."

Yin Xiang stood still, his hand still resting on the door frame, his brow furrowed.

"They want you to weaken each other."

"I know."

"I also want to see just how good you are at fighting."

"I know."

"I also want to drag you and Soundwave into the recovery period while I'm at it, so we can do other things later."

Zhen Tianzun looked at her and finally stood up from the terminal.

"I know that too," he said, "so there's no point in you standing there summarizing all this for me."

The vector suddenly choked.

Knowing this doesn't stop the fire burning inside me.

"So you're prepared to play the part they want you to?"

"If I don't go, my reputation will suffer, and they'll use that against me. They'll still cause trouble later." Zhen Tianzun walked up to her, paused, and looked down at her. "If I go, at least I can decide how to give them the data they want."

As soon as these words were spoken, the vector fell silent.

A few seconds later, she whispered, "Do you have a good chance of winning?"

Zhen Tianzun looked at her, the sound emanating from his throat a half-smile: "Your question doesn't sound like you're just watching a show."

"I'm not in the mood to watch the show right now."

"The odds of winning only become clear after the game is over," he said calmly. "But you can remember one thing for now."

"What?"

"Sound waves are not an opponent that can be underestimated."

The vector head is raised.

Zhen Tianzun looked down at her, his expression calm but more serious than usual.

"He and I are not on the same wavelength," he said. "So if we really fight, it won't be like the ones you've seen before."

This is almost tantamount to admitting that sound waves are dangerous, and that this is something that cannot be directly crushed by name, momentum, or power.

Yin Xiang felt a tightness in his chest, and after a moment he spoke: "I'll go see."

I knew you would go.

"I'm not going there to join in the fun."

"I didn't say you were."

There was a moment of silence in the living room.

Zhen Tianzun's gaze lingered on her face for two seconds before he suddenly added, "You'd better stand back then."

Why?

"Because if this really happens, it's not a good time for you to hang yourself on the front railing and watch."

Just as Yin Xiang was about to retort, "How did you know I'd be standing there?", he suddenly stopped himself from saying it.

She didn't want to add to the stress, so she stood there for a long while before finally saying softly, "Okay."

Zhen Tianzun hummed in agreement, as if that was the end of the matter.

Looking at the two names side by side on the terminal, she gained a clearer understanding of the arena: the arena may look like a huge metal container, but it never contains any glory, passion, or rules.

It's all calculated.

It's a gap that was created by risking life and injury.