5: Rub a nuclear reactor into the chest of an ordinary person

The last embers of the holographic projection flickered out.

That M29 Terra world, buried in radioactive dust and reeking of sulfur and rust, was forcibly folded into the deep data zone following the system's cold settlement command.

Before the phantom scent of gunpowder in his nostrils could dissipate, his vision was forcefully switched.

The wasteland was gone.

Before his eyes stood a [civilization forge] constructed of pure data.

This was no ordinary room, but a black workshop suspended in the void.

There were no walls around, only countless streams of ghostly green code washing down like waterfalls, isolating this place from the chaos of the outside world.

In the center of the workshop, a hexagonal modification table, forged from a mesh of virtual brass and black iron, floated in the air. It emitted a low, hungry standby hum, like a mechanical beast waiting to feed.

[Deduction settlement complete.]

[Extracting history fragments... Materialization process initiated.]

Three data chips of different colors slowly manifested before Li Cang's eyes.

They didn't have the cheap light effects of online game items.

On the contrary, these three chips looked as if they had just been gouged out of a pile of corpses.

The dark red one was covered in dried blood scabs; the gray one was stained with thick oil and grease, and its edges even bore scorch marks from high temperatures.

This was the most brutal core mechanic of Epoch—modular construction.

In this universe, if you wanted a powerful army, you couldn't create it out of thin air.

Players had to descend personally, rolling in the mire of history and extracting blood-stained gene modules, technological blueprints, or mental imprints through slaughter within mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

A player had to be like a frenzied corpse-stitcher, crudely plugging these cursed parts into an innocent base card to piece together a brand-new monster.

Li Cang glanced at the bottom right corner of his vision.

[GP (Genesis Points): 0]

That bright red zero stared back at him like a bloodshot eye.

In the mall, he was an absolute beggar.

He couldn't afford special forces bases that came with the 'High Morale' trait, nor could he afford magic apprentice bases with 'Magic Affinity'.

All he had on hand were the scrap materials given as a starting handout by the system, universally recognized as junk in the game.

With a flick of his finger, a dull gray card fell into his palm.

The edges of the card bore rough virtual wear and tear; it felt as thin and light as a withered leaf in his hand, as if a gentle squeeze would crumble it into powder.

[Base Card: Standard Human Militia Company]

Race: Terra Human (Unmodified)

Organization: 100 men

Energy Level: T0 (Cannon Fodder)

Slots: [Gene Slot] x1, [Armament Slot] x1, [Mental Slot] x1.

Description: Malnourished and unarmed. They know how to do nothing except scream and rout.

A holographic projection cast an image onto the card: a hundred ragged, gaunt-faced refugees huddled together.

They clutched rusted iron pipes and sharpened wooden sticks, their eyes filled with terror as they shook like sieves in the cold wind. Their ribs were clearly visible, and their skin was covered in chilblains and pustules.

"Fragile, cheap, and easily shattered."

Li Cang looked at these units destined to become consumables and shook his head, though a dangerous curve hooked the corner of his mouth.

"But, a blank sheet of paper is best for splashing ink."

With a flick of his wrist, this militia company was tossed onto the modification table in the center of the forge.

"Construction begin."

Vrrr—

The mechanical arms surrounding the modification table suddenly jolted awake, their probes brutally piercing into the core of the card.

The holographic projection suddenly enlarged, and the phantoms of those hundred refugees appeared on the mid-air operating table, looking around helplessly at the surrounding darkness.

This was the raw material.

Li Cang extended two fingers and picked up the first chip.

It was the blood-colored crystal condensed from countless genetic collapses by Arik Taranis under hellish torture in the previous chapter's deduction.

The surface of the chip was scalding hot; the moment his fingertips touched it, he could even feel the turbid mercury-like slurry flowing inside.

[Plugin: Gene Alchemy · Thunder Module]

Type: Genetic/Essence Rewrite

Effect: Recipient's strength, endurance, and metabolic rate skyrocket exponentially.

Side Effects: Extremely short lifespan, prone to genetic collapse, loss of sanity.

Traits: [Berserk], [Irreversible Mutation].

"Endure it, Mortals."

Without any hesitation, Li Cang slammed that scalding blood-red chip into the slot labeled [Gene] on the base card.

Sizzle—!!!

On the modification table, the hundred militia phantoms instantly erupted into inhuman screams.

The muscles of the phantoms began to tear at a speed visible to the naked eye. Subcutaneous tissue moved as if countless venomous snakes were slithering beneath, frantically reweaving the torn muscle fibers.

Bones emitted crisp cracks like popping beans; every single bone was being forcibly elongated, thickened, and calcified after being broken.

In just a few seconds, their physiques expanded from 1.7-meter-tall weak refugees into 2.5-meter-tall muscular monsters.

Their originally shriveled torsos became as solid as granite, and their spines bulged like the dorsal fins of a stegosaurus. Veins surged like black pythons, stretching the skin to the limit and spraying out an electrified blood mist.

[Warning: Recipient rejection reaction is severe!]

[Warning: Mental threshold hit zero, 30% of individuals suffering cardiopulmonary failure.]

Thirty of the hundred phantoms collapsed.

The failures convulsed violently on the ground, their bodies turning into puddles of indescribable rotten meat.

The remaining seventy were still roaring in agony, scratching at the ground with newly grown bone claws, even leaving deep gouges in the hard virtual floor.

"Suppress it."

Li Cang's eyes were like ice, turning a blind eye to the tragic scene before him. "Clear the corpses, the living continue."

The second chip was in hand.

Gray, its surface covered in oil stains and deep scratches, it felt heavy in his hand, as if he could hear the roar of internal pistons and the meshing of gears.

[Plugin: Mk I Thunder-type power armor Blueprints]

Type: Armament/Technology

Effect: Provides heavy physical defense, significantly increases strength output.

Flaws: No life-support system, high noise, extremely poor heat dissipation.

Traits: [Heavy Armor], [Clunky], [Industrial Noise].

Click!

The chip was inserted into the [Armament] slot.

In the projection, countless crude Ceramite plates generated out of thin air.

The mechanical arms on the modification table transformed into industrial rivet guns, their muzzles spitting blue flames.

Accompanied by the ear-grating sound of metal impact, those thick armor plates were riveted directly onto the giants' muscles.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Every rivet driven in brought out a puff of blood mist.

This wasn't wearing equipment; this was welding instruments of torture onto flesh and blood.

The miniature atomic reactors on their backs were forcibly ignited, and the radiator grilles spat out black smoke.

The giants' screams vanished, replaced by the heavy breathing of overloaded servo motors and the low hum of the reactors running.

Finally, the weapons.

[Plugin: Chainsword Technology]

Type: Armament/Accessory

Traits: [Rending] (Deals devastating blows to light armor units), [Fear Aura].

The chip merged into the card, and the rusted iron pipes held by the giants crumbled and vanished.

In their place were Chainswords pieced together from industrial waste and bone.

Engines were revved, and monomolecular sawteeth spun frantically, emitting hungry roars.

[Construction complete.]

[Card reforging...]

A burst of blinding golden light—no, it was a dark red light mixed with machine oil, rust, and dried blood—exploded.

That dull, lifeless [Militia Company] had completely transformed.

The card face was no longer shivering refugees.

Instead, it was a group of armored, Chainsword-wielding, red-eyed iron demons.

The background was a sky full of radioactive dust and burning ruins, their feet stepping on the heads of enemies, and above them was a gloomy firmament.

[Unit Card: Thunder Warrior Legion]

Energy Level: T3+ (Elite Assault Infantry)

Quantity: 70/100 (High Attrition)

Core Traits:

[Biological Weapon]: Immune to morale damage, immune to conventional toxins, ignores pain.

[Heavy Assault]: Charging deals crushing damage, possesses execution effect against light infantry.

[Genetic Curse]: After combat, this unit has a 30% probability of immediate death (cannot be resurrected, requires replenishment of base).

"Perfect."

Li Cang flicked his finger, and the card, radiating a tyrannical aura, spun in the air with a sharp whistling sound.

This was the charm of Epoch.

While other players were still saving GP to buy expensive 'Elf Archers' or 'Dwarf Musketeers', he had used free junk bases combined with forbidden plugins from his deduction to hand-craft a stat-monster capable of sweeping everything in the early game.

Despite the massive side effects.

They died after use, maintenance costs were high, and they were extremely unstable.

But in the qualifying stage, this was a dimensional strike.

Beep—

The life-threatening countdown in his mind rang again, interrupting Li Cang's appreciation.

[Severe Warning: Real-world life support energy remaining: 10 minutes.]

[Warning: Insufficient blood supply to host's brain detected. Please immediately replenish GP (Genesis Points) to pay for the holographic pod's electricity and high-concentration nutrient solution fees.]

[Otherwise, the system will execute a forced power-off procedure.]

The feverishness in his eyes cooled.

Li Cang subconsciously reached for his chest; although he couldn't feel it in the holographic space, he could sense that his body in reality was gradually losing temperature.

The pacemaker's battery was draining, and the nutrient solution in his veins was about to run dry. Death's finger was already resting on his carotid artery.

Reality was harsh.

In the game, he was a creator hand-crafting Thunder Warriors; in reality, he was a vegetable lying in the ICU waiting to die, burdened with 3.4 million in high-interest debt.

If he didn't make money, it would be physical death in ten minutes.

The card was made.

Time to test the goods.

In this game, the fastest way to verify card strength and the quickest way to make money was only one.

PVP (Player vs Player).

Those lukewarm 'resource gathering missions' or 'dungeon explorations' yielded returns too slowly to save his life. He needed plunder, he needed war, he needed to turn others' resources into the electricity that sustained his life.

He directly clicked the icon as red as blood, composed of two crossed swords.

[Matchmaking Mode: Resource Plunder War (1v1)]

[Rank: Iron (Newbie Protection Zone has expired)]

[Stakes: The loser will lose all resources carried in this match (including cards).]

Winner takes all, loser is left with nothing.

In this mode, there were no laws, no morality.

Not only could you seize resource points, you could even kill the opponent's unit cards and turn them into loot.

For the current Li Cang, there was nothing left to lose.

"Come."

That still-bleeding [Thunder Warrior] card was slammed into the battle slot.

"Let's see which unlucky soul has the honor of becoming the first stepping stone for the rise of the Imperium."

[Matching...]

[Match successful!]

On the holographic screen, a string of data streams parsed rapidly, and the opponent's information emerged.

[Opponent ID: Steam Baron]

[Civilization Type: Steampunk · Gear Mechanism Stream]

[Energy Level Evaluation: T3]

[Record: 12 Wins, 2 Losses]

Steampunk?

Li Cang looked at the opponent's data; it was a typical first industrial revolution style civilization.

In the holographic preview, the opponent's army was composed of brass, gears, and steam engines.

Soldiers wore heavy copper diving-suit-style armor and held steam rifles. Giant multi-riveted steam-steel tanks spat white smoke, their complex linkage mechanisms driving clunky tracks.

This kind of army, filled with mechanical beauty, was indeed an overlord in ordinary newbie matches.

Thick physical armor and powerful steam power were enough to crush those primitive civilizations still playing with bows and magic.

But before the Imperium of Man?

A playful curve hooked Li Cang's mouth—it was pity for the old era.

Clunky machinery driven by coal, gears, and levers, facing Thunder Warriors driven by Gene Alchemy and atomic energy, was like challenging a tank with a matchlock gun.

[Battle, Begin.]