(T/N): I always found it funny how my other novel is all sad and stuff while this is just happy go lucky lol
---------------------
"I'm back!"
Stella ran back to Natasha's clinic, clutching a pile of clanking "loot" wrapped in an old cloth, her little face practically shouting, "Hurry up and praise me for finding so many good things!"
However, what greeted her wasn't the peace or praise she had expected, but a scene that could only be described as a "disaster zone."
March 7th was performing "random motion" around the clinic at an alarming speed; her face was flushed, her eyes watering, one hand fanning her face frantically while the other dug wildly through cabinets, buckets, and even flower pots, muttering to herself:
"Water! Water! My tongue is going to fall off! Where did you hide the water?!"
Stelle was draped over the edge of the hospital bed, looking like her soul had left her body. Her eyes were glazed, and she would dry heave every now and then, as if still relishing that "extreme sourness" that had shot straight to the top of her head.
The strange officer (Bronya), though still managing to maintain a sitting posture, had an unnaturally stiff spine. Her blue eyes were brimming with involuntary tears, and she was breathing deeply in small, forceful gasps, trying to calm the nuclear explosion of sourness in her mouth, though her slightly trembling fingers betrayed her inner turmoil.
Dr. Natasha stood before the medicine cabinet, one hand on her forehead, while the other tried to put back the instruments that March 7th had tossed into disarray, her face full of helplessness.
And the "culprit" behind all this, Ms. Herta, was sitting elegantly on a chair, her short legs dangling above the floor, swaying gently. She held that tiny beaker, observing the three's reactions with great interest, as if recording precious experimental data.
"W-what is going on here?!"
Stella stood frozen at the doorway, clutching her materials, stunned by the chaotic scene.
Ms. Herta turned her head at the sound and explained in her signature flat tone: "It's nothing. I just used my special 'High-Efficiency Sensory Stimulant Wake-up Mixture' to recover them from an unnecessary comatose state. As you can see, the effect is quite significant, with a neural arousal rate of 99.7%."
There was even a hint of pride in her tone.
Stella looked at March 7th, who was practically trying to shove her head into a water tank, and at the expressions of Stelle and Bronya, who looked like survivors of a catastrophe. Her mouth twitched. "Is this'significant'... a bit too'stimulating'?"
"Appropriate stimulation helps to quickly establish clear cognition and avoid the sequelae of lethargy."
Ms. Herta retorted solemnly, then her gaze fell on the bulging parcel in Stella's arms, and her electronic eyes lit up.
"Oh? It seems you found something. Where are the materials I asked for?"
"Here, right here!"
Stella hurriedly cast aside her chaotic thoughts, ran to the relatively intact table in the center of the clinic with the parcel, and dumped its contents out with a "clatter."
Instantly, a pile of odd-shaped, colorful trinkets covered the tabletop:
A few strange ores flickering with a dim light;
Some dried, twisted plant roots and mushrooms of strange colors;
A few rusty but intricately structured mechanical parts from the old era;
And even half a metal skull that looked like the remains of some automaton, along with a mechanical core that, despite being covered in dust, still showed complex patterns.
"Let me see."
Ms. Herta jumped down from the chair and walked to the table.
She didn't touch anything immediately but instead scanned all the items with her eyes like a scanner, then reached out her small hand and began to pick them up one by one for a careful inspection.
She picked up a piece of dark red ore, held it up to the light, and tapped it gently with her finger, listening to the echo: "Geomarrow-associated ore with trace amounts of fire attribute residue. Severe energy dissipation, purity below 5%. Low utility value."
She picked up a deep purple mushroom, smelled it, and immediately pushed it away in disgust: "Unknown fungal species. The cap contains weak hallucinogenic spores, and the stalk is severely fibrous. Not recommended for use as food or medicinal ingredients. Perhaps it could be used to extract some alkaloids as an anesthetic enhancer... but it's not worth it."
Her assessment was fast and cold; most materials were labeled "inferior," "inefficient," or "useless."
Until she picked up that dusty mechanical core.
"Hmm?"
Ms. Herta paused.
She produced a soft velvet cloth from somewhere and carefully wiped the dust off the surface of the core, revealing the intricate and complex energy circuits and interfaces underneath.
Her electronic eyes began to flicker at high speed, clearly conducting a deep structural analysis and data deduction.
A few seconds later, she looked up. Although her face still held that calm, emotionless expression, her tone carried a rare, extremely slight fluctuation that resembled "surprise":
"Interesting. Given the local technological backwardness and lack of resources, to think they could create an 'automaton' control core of this specification? Although the design is redundant, the energy efficiency ratio is terrible, and the energy conduction path contains at least seventeen unnecessary branches, and the material is just ordinary alloy rather than Remembrance metal... the basic framework and logical operation units are actually quite complete. The creator is either a paranoid fool or a genius trapped at the bottom of a well who accidentally touched the ceiling."
Her professional (and sharp-tongued) commentary caused Natasha, who had just recovered a little, to show a thoughtful expression, as if recalling whether such a person had ever existed in the Lower District.
Ms. Herta weighed the core in her hand, looked at Stella, and said in a tone announcing a major discovery: "Good news. Combining this junk... um, these materials, especially this core, I can try to reverse-engineer and optimize its basic architecture, then use other materials for reinforcement and external armor casting. Theoretically, I can create an automaton with relatively complete functions, capable of a certain degree of movement and basic combat capability."
Stella's eyes instantly brightened like two little stars!
An automaton! That sounds so cool!
"What kind do you want?"
Ms. Herta asked, as if asking Stella what flavor of nutrient paste she wanted to eat today.
"Defense-specialized? High-speed assault? Or long-range fire support? I can design it with a bias based on the available materials."
Stella was stunned by the question, and images of robots from countless sci-fi works flashed through her mind.
Almost subconsciously, a name blurted out:
"BT-7274."
After saying it, even she was stunned.
BT-7274? What is that? Why would she know this name? It sounded like some kind of model code, yet it made her feel a strange sense of familiarity and... trust?
"Huh?"
For the first time, a clear, undisguised expression of confusion appeared on Ms. Herta's exquisite little face. She tilted her head, and the data stream in her electronic eyes seemed to freeze for a moment.
"What is that? Your own self-created naming convention? Or some ancient model that has long been eliminated? There is no match in my database."
"Uh... I don't know either."
Stella scratched her head awkwardly.
"It just... popped into my head. Never mind, never mind, don't think about that!"
She shook her head, trying to cast that strange name aside.
Just then, a little lightbulb seemed to "ding" in her head! A brilliant, cool idea that made her heart race just thinking about it popped up!
"I've got it! Let's build that!"
Stella shouted excitedly, her eyes beginning to scan the surroundings.
"Paper! Pen! Quick, give me paper and a pen!"
"Where would you get paper and a pen?"
Ms. Herta expressed confusion again.
This clinic didn't look like a place that would keep drawing tools on hand.
Upon hearing this, Stella pointed to the side—March 7th was still frantically looking for water and had somehow unearthed a pile of old junk from the bottom of a cabinet, which included several old notebooks with curled edges and a few charcoal pencils that could barely write.
Ms. Herta: "..." (It seems this pink-haired companion's chaotic search wasn't entirely useless?)
Stella didn't care about that. She lunged forward, rescued the notebook and charcoal pencils from the pile of junk March 7th had dug up, then laid down on the table and began to "create" with full concentration.
Her pen moved as if guided by divine inspiration, the charcoal pencil sliding rapidly across the rough paper, making a "rustling" sound.
She was extremely engrossed in her drawing, sometimes frowning in thought, sometimes excitedly adding a few strokes, and unconsciously muttering things like, "Add a thruster here," "The armor needs to be thicker here," "The Tail must be flexible."
Ms. Herta stood to the side with her arms crossed, watching with an expressionless face.
Natasha also curiously leaned over, wanting to see what shocking design this visitor from beyond the sky could draw.
Soon, Stella completed her "masterpiece."
She let out a long sigh of relief, raised the notebook with shining eyes, and handed it to Ms. Herta like she was presenting a treasure: "Look! This is it! Isn't it cool?!"
Ms. Herta took the notebook and looked down.
On the paper was drawn a robot full of sci-fi style and majesty:
Its entire body was streamlined and silver-white, like a "Silver Dragon" ready to strike;
The left arm was equipped with a huge, exaggerated blade with edges that glinted with cold light;
The right arm was mounted with an energy cannon with a complex structure and a deep muzzle;
Trailing behind its head was a long, agile, articulated mechanical Tail, with a sharp tip;
The surface of the armor was covered in fine mechanical engravings and textures resembling biological fibers, with parts accented in brilliant gold, adding to its luxury and mystery;
In the center of its chest, a huge, scarlet-glowing core was particularly striking, as if it were the hub of its power and life.
The entire machine presented a posture that combined power, speed, and mysterious aesthetics, majestic and deadly.
And in the blank space above the robot's head, Stella had used the charcoal pencil to forcefully write four square, bold characters: "galatron."
Ms. Herta stared at the drawing, silent for a full ten seconds.
Her electronic eyes slowly scanned from the top of the design to the bottom, then from left to right, finally fixing on those four characters.
Then, she looked up and looked at Stella, who was full of anticipation with eyes almost turning into stars, with an extremely complex expression.
That gaze contained a mix of emotions: "Are you kidding me?", "Are you serious?", "You want to build this with the available materials?", "Do you know the energy requirements and structural complexity of this thing?", and most importantly—"Are you trying to fly to the sky?"—all condensing into a gaze of near speechlessness.
Stella felt a bit creeped out by the look, but still tried hard to maintain her expectant smile: "How is it? Can you build it? Isn't it super cool?!"
Ms. Herta took a deep breath, seemingly calming her non-existent "blood pressure."
She gently placed the notebook back on the table and said in as calm a tone as possible:
"First, this name (galatron) is still not in any of my databases; it appears to be your own impromptu creation."
"Second, with the existing materials—including this backward core, these inferior ores, broken parts, and limited chemical reagents—"
She paused, seemingly trying to organize more tactful language, but ultimately gave up. "—I can build you a shell with a similar appearance. Yes, just a shell. I will try to simplify the internal transmission system to make it usable, but the mobility will be about equivalent to a rusty, wind-up tin toy."
"The giant sword you want? I can barely grind a shape out of the discarded metal plates we found, but the hardness might not be as good as Dan Heng's spear. Energy cannon? Don't even think about it; at most, I can mount a firearm that shoots bullets on the arm. That cool core on the chest? I can put in a piece of glass that glows red."
"As for strength..."
Ms. Herta glanced at Dan Heng, who had just returned from scouting, happened to walk to the clinic door, and looked slightly confused after witnessing part of the conversation. She added mercilessly, "I estimate Dan Heng wouldn't even need his spear; he could dismantle it into parts for recycling with his bare hands."
The excitement on Stella's face dimmed and extinguished at a visible speed, finally turning into a disappointed gray-white.
Watching Stella's face collapse in an instant, Ms. Herta seemed to feel a bit... too harsh?
She rarely "coughed" once, her tone softening by 0.01 percent:
"Of course, if you just want to have an ornament that looks a bit cool, or to use it to scare some ignorant people, then building such a 'showpiece' is not entirely impossible. At least, in terms of appearance, I can try to restore it to... um, 50% similarity."
This sentence was like the last straw, reigniting a faint flame in Stella's eyes. Although its strength was trash, it... was cool!
Just putting it there was intimidating enough! In the future, when grinding monsters, letting "galatron (Fake)" stand in front as a backdrop while she secretly shot arrows from behind... that didn't seem bad?
"Really? Can you really build the appearance?!"
Stella grasped at this sliver of hope and asked eagerly.
"Yes."
Ms. Herta nodded, beginning to quickly plan in her mind how to use the fewest materials and the most clever way to build this "giant figure."
"Yeah! That's awesome!"
Stella immediately cast the cruel reality of "strength not equal to Dan Heng's bare hands" to the back of her mind, jumping up excitedly, as if she had already seen the heroic posture of her (superficial) Silver Dragon mecha on the battlefield (acting as a backdrop).
March 7th, who had just woken up and was still in a taste-bud hell, was gulping down the cold water she had finally found while watching the excited Stella and the exaggerated design drawing on the table, muttering vaguely: "Stella... you're starting to think of strange things again..."
Standing at the doorway, Dan Heng silently withdrew the foot he had stepped into the clinic with, feeling that it was better not to go in and participate in this "mechanical manufacturing seminar" that was clearly veering into the bizarre.
Dr. Natasha looked at the reinvigorated Stella and Ms. Herta, who had already started scribbling on paper and calculating material allocation, and felt once again that these visitors from beyond the sky... always seemed to bring some unexpected "excitement" to the Lower District.