Apocalypse: I Built the Infinite Train
Chapter 356: Leather Rope and Whip

“A mechanical army?”

Lin Xian’s heart gave a slight jolt. What Moonlight Shinji just said hit the core of his own thoughts.

Thinking back—starting with a simple Wind Cannon and a short blade—now he stood wearing high-tech Power Armor, commanding drones in battle. Every steel plate of the shelter train Infinite had been forged by his own hands. Only he truly understood the hardship behind it.

If he didn’t have mechanical abilities and had instead been a combat-type Ability User, he’d probably be focused on refining personal combat skills, leading a survivalist group, living a blood-and-blade life. Concepts like Climbing Elevators and Pangu Unit 01 would never have been part of his world.

But Lin Xian had always understood his own role. He wasn’t the frontline fighter. He was more like Moonlight Shinji or Senju Shun, relying on the firepower of Infinite and his teammates. His own solo combat strength wasn’t extraordinary—apart from the Gravity Lens, which could cause large-area damage, he still needed his team to handle larger enemies.

The true strength of his mechanical power was in the systems—train defenses, vehicle-mounted weapons, drones, Power Armor, combat teams. Then there were intelligent battle units like Grace and Dancer Unit 1, combined with Forbidden Items, Blood Scourge Flora, and powerful allies. Together, they formed Infinite’s firepower.

More than anything, Lin Xian wanted the drone systems from Silent City. With them, his production capability would skyrocket. And in his world, productivity was combat power. If he had 1,000, 10,000, even 100,000 combat drones forming a swarm, he might even face off against an S-class threat head-on.

That was the core behind the Phoenix Society’s Emperor Project: two paths—massive mecha and drone swarms.

Seeing all those blueprints now, Lin Xian felt elated. With them, he didn’t need to scan or model—he could jump straight into production. It would even boost his manufacturing proficiency, accelerating his R& D Center’s speed.

“AI core and drones… sounds like you and I are the same.” Lin Xian looked at the Photon Storage Core in front of him and couldn’t help but say.

“The same? I see it differently.” Moonlight Shinji smiled. “Let me break your abilities down, Lin. First—you can scan and generate blueprints. That alone saves countless resources that a normal R& D team would burn through. Second—you can manufacture from nothing. No components, no machining, not even physical space required. Third—you can devour machines. That’s not just recycling—it’s dissolution on a physical rule-breaking level. No engineered system poses a threat to you.”

He looked at Lin Xian, voice calm but meaningful:

“It’s a good thing you’re on humanity’s side. Otherwise, you’d be a greater threat than any S-class Eerie Entity.”

“That’s the first time someone’s described me that way. Not sure if I should be happy or worried,” Lin Xian said with a bitter smile.

Moonlight Shinji continued,

“Sure, I might achieve something similar using all of Silent City’s resources. But here’s the difference: Silent City weighs 131 million tons. Population: 109,561. Drones: 91,560 units. Total urban space exceeds 3.5 Manhattan Islands. My quantum processor alone consumes 325,000 kWh per hour. The central AI cooling system eats 162 million kWh—equivalent to six Hoover Dams running at full capacity. But you? You're one man. Sitting right here. Your dinner barely broke 2,000 calories. Still think we’re the same?”

“Sorry—just realized—you’re the one who sounds more human,” Lin Xian replied, half-jokingly.

“But I can help you,” Moonlight Shinji added, now intrigued. “Remember the design system for optimizing your mechanical abilities I mentioned earlier? Maybe I can redesign the ‘Skyvault-Class’ Interstellar Megastructure Train into a true doomsday colonization vessel. And give it to you. Interested?”

Lin Xian leaned back slightly, looking at him with curiosity.

“I thought you’d try to recruit me into Silent City.”

“Tempting, but no,” Shinji said. “Besides, Noisy City doesn’t even have stable automation yet. Even if you handed them full blueprints, they’d only recreate another rudimentary version of Silent City, wouldn’t they?”

Lin Xian nodded. “Pretty much.”

“So can they really help with the Skyvault Train’s interstellar upgrades?” “Not likely.”

“Exactly.” Moonlight Shinji shrugged. “So it makes more sense to remain your ally. Let Noisy City be your partner and support you instead of dragging you into Eternal Port’s bunker. Don’t you think that’s smarter?”

“You’re too generous,” Lin Xian said, glancing at the Photon Core in his hand—and the Flicker Bullet. “To others, those are priceless strategic assets. But to you, they’re just... handouts.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Shinji replied. “Everything you’ve done has purpose. And I don’t mind exposing mine. Frankly, you have the potential to be greater than Noisy City. Partnering with you is like investing in a second Silent City. If we survive The Veil at Eternal Port, I want a powerful ally—like you.”

“That’s… incredibly well-reasoned.” Lin Xian nodded with sincerity. “In that case, would it be greedy if I also wanted Senju Shun’s nano armor, your heavy combat robots, Noisy City’s defense arrays, and oh, maybe those Hebron Constraint Cannon blueprints too?”

Moonlight Shinji stared blankly for a moment, then replied flatly:

“They’re already in the storage.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and one more thing…”

“I’m already reverse-engineering Crimson World’s Flesh-Engineered Augmentation. Once I finish integrating the core data, I’ll sync it to you.”

“...Great.” Lin Xian said seriously. “Am I being too pushy?”

“Couldn’t be more pushy.”

“Fair.”

Shinji chuckled.

“In two days, we’ll reach Jinhai. Expect Dawn City’s agents to approach. Phoenix Society too. Silent City is open for trade, but not everyone inside can be trusted. Stay sharp.”

Lin Xian nodded and stowed the Photon Core. After a moment’s thought, he also kept the consciousness drive.

He stood to leave.

“One last thing,” Shinji called, his voice meaningful. “Your Grace is very interesting. Even offline, her quantum core holds 8,192 qubits. Without the current infrastructure, this is a strategic asset. I’d bet even Crimson World doesn’t have more than two. Phoenix Society’s galaxy servers have relocated. Dawn Center, Noah, Phoenix City—each has just one. Even Dawn City only has one. Europe, North America—none of their massive alliances likely have anything like this. You understand what I’m saying, Lin?”

“You’re saying... I hit the jackpot?” Lin Xian said, surprised.

“No, I’m saying—why would Crimson World leave such a thing in a Zero Element Center?”

It was the second time Shinji had hinted at this. Grace, despite her value, had been managing a low-tier facility. Something didn’t add up.

His guess? Grace was linked to Crimson World’s Mycelial Research in Yijin City. That connection bridged the tech for Replicants, Flesh Augments, and even mind-control of Eerie Entities.

There was more to the Zero Element Center. He’d only scratched the surface.

“Moonlight Shinji.” Lin Xian turned, serious. “Do you think AI will betray humanity?”

Shinji smiled.

“Programs never betray humans. But human commands have too many ambiguities. An AI needs repeated corrections to ‘understand’ us. If you embed your own consciousness into it, the AI can rapidly iterate with your presence in the loop. That’s how it reaches personality equilibrium.”

“Like you?” Lin Xian thought of Grace’s elegant form. The idea of inserting himself into that felt... weird.

“Increase your intelligence by a millionfold,” Shinji replied calmly. “You’d be surprised at what you’d discover.”

“No thanks. I like her robot-like just the way she is.”

Lin Xian waved and left the hall.

To him, Grace was the perfect assistant—task-oriented and efficient. That was enough.

But thanks to Shinji’s warning, Lin Xian was now far more cautious.

As Lin Xian stepped out of the high tower and onto the upper deck, the view opened up before him. Below, the neon-lit Mechanical Metropolis stretched out like a synthetic organism. Holographic billboards flickered cold light, while drones crisscrossed the lower airspace like glowing threads. All kinds of hovercraft darted past, their exhaust trails casting fleeting rainbows on the metal walls.

At the edges of the deck, enormous transport ships hovered in place or were docked at mid-air ports. The whole floating city stood like a fragment of another world—an alien shard embedded in the dark forest below.

“What took you so long? What were you two talking about?”

A crisp voice echoed from the distance. Lin Xian looked over and saw KIKI leaning casually against the deck railing, a lollipop in her mouth. Dressed in black shorts, a dark crop top, and a bright varsity jacket, her long violet hair danced lightly in the night breeze. Her eyes shimmered with a strange glow, like stars—or perhaps psychic power.

“Were you waiting for me?” KIKI rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Tch, Chen was worried Moonlight Shinji would try to eat you alive, so she told me to keep an eye on you.”

Lin Xian chuckled as he walked over.

“Why would he? My power isn’t exactly practical—it’s more valuable for research. I can build things, sure, but Silent City can too. What reason would he have to consume me?”

KIKI tilted her head.

“You’re underestimating yourself. Even big factories use up energy. If someone captured you, fed you two steamed buns a day, your cost-efficiency would blow production lines out of the water. I mean, your devouring and recycling abilities are tailor-made for doomsday industrial rebuilding. If it were me, I’d tie you up with leather ropes and whip you until you churned out drones nonstop.”

Lin Xian frowned.

“Leather ropes? Whips? Why?”

“Because you'd just swallow the chains,” KIKI answered, dead serious.

Lin Xian: "..."

“Hehe, just messing with you.” KIKI grinned. “Chen, Miao Lu, Shu Qin, and Sun Jie went into the city to resupply. We’re still short on water, and it’s urgent. I heard Silent City has plenty, but the Dark Invasion contamination levels are rising. If this place weren’t parked outside the Abyss, the mutations alone would’ve wiped out a ton of people already.”

“So... did Shinji try to recruit you?”

“Actually, the opposite.”

Lin Xian leaned on the railing, gazing at the massive mechanical city glowing in the dark.

“He wants to form an alliance. Looks like he’s betting on me, which lines up with my own goals. Silent City only has two real uses for me—either nap inside it forever or devour it to boost our train. Obviously neither’s practical.”

Devouring Silent City to upgrade Infinite—even thinking about it made his brain twitch. Shinji’s description had been accurate: Lin Xian’s ability was powerful, but Silent City had all those capabilities plus more. One Thunder Falcon Drone took Lin Xian 15 minutes to build, but Silent City’s industrial system could spit out a thousand in that time.

That’s why Shinji didn’t absorb Lin Xian’s team—he invested instead. Because if the world’s industrial bases ever collapsed, Lin Xian would be the key to rebuilding civilization, the missing link from primitive tech to interstellar power.

“Makes a lot of sense,” KIKI nodded. “So… are we going to Jinhai to steal that Skyvault Train, rob the Wen Family, and ride off into the stars?”

Lin Xian smirked.

“If only it were that easy. There’s definitely some connection between Crimson World and Dawn City. Fat Zhou even said their leadership colludes with the Descent Faction. Jinhai is Dawn City’s industrial backbone. Starships, Skyvault Trains, and 70% of their weapons—messing with that means we’ll be facing not just Dawn City, but also the Linglong Group and Crimson World.”

“So then...?”

“We play it slow.” Lin Xian stretched lazily. “It was Shinji’s idea, after all. If a fight breaks out, Silent City takes the lead. Crimson World is already watching us. Zone 5 Abyss is unstable. So let’s use Silent City’s resources to max out Infinite’s arsenal first—then adapt as we go.”

“Sounds good.” KIKI nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at him again. “I heard many Silent City residents uploaded their consciousness to the cloud. Some even have their own memory cores. A few convoys in the Unified Train seem… tempted.”

“Thinking of joining Silent City?”

“Yeah.”

“Makes sense,” Lin Xian admitted. “If I were an average person, I’d want in too. A moving city in a post-apocalyptic world? Who wouldn’t dream of safety like that?”

He looked over at her.

“Are you worried someone in Infinite might want to stay?”

KIKI shook her head.

“Not that. I understand whatever choices people make. It’s you.”

She turned to him, eyes reflecting the starry sky.

“You’re exhausted. So I was wondering—if Shinji really asked you to stay… maybe you should consider it.”

“That’s not an option.”

Lin Xian heard the softness in her voice. His heart stirred, but he exhaled and replied firmly:

“Silent City is planning to confront the Heavenveil Curtain at Eternal Port. There’s less than a year left until the end. We’re out of time. Shinji reminded me: even with all their blueprints, I can only rebuild Silent City—and that’s not enough.”

“Phoenix Society can’t stop it either,” KIKI said without hesitation.

“True... but there’s one thing I might be able to do.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

Lin Xian’s eyes sparkled. He looked toward the ascending engines of the mechanical metropolis.

“Unite all of humanity’s tech—Silent City, Dawn City, Phoenix Society, Xinghua Heavy Industries, Starfleet—and then…”

“Pioneer.”

Whoooosh...

The night wind howled, swallowing his words into the stars. KIKI stared at him, then slowly smiled.

In her mind, she recalled the first time they met—when he caught her stealing bread and scolded her about the Infinite Train Plan. Back then, he listened as she angrily ranted about advanced tech. Instead of getting mad, he’d pulled out a notebook and started taking notes.

“Lin Xian.”

“Hm?”

“You’re amazing.”

“How amazing?”

KIKI lifted her arms high, laughing:

“Thiiiis amazing!”

Lin Xian chuckled and pulled out the Photon Storage Core.

“Just wait till I build what’s in here—I’ll be even more amazing.”

“What’s inside?”

“Good stuff,” he grinned, grabbing her hand and walking away. “A bunch of schematics. You’ll definitely be interested.”

KIKI’s face instantly flushed red. She dug her heels in and stared at him.

“S-schematics? What kind of schematics?!”

Lin Xian turned back with a straight face.

“Small-scale robots. Nano armor. Orbital weapons. Don’t those interest you?”

KIKI realized she’d been played. Her eyes narrowed. Cheeks puffed.

“Calling robots ‘little people’? Do I look like an idiot to you? Get back here!”

Lin Xian took off running.

“If not ‘little people’, what should I call them? Mini-bots? Tiny techlings?”

Beneath the starlit sky, the wind was soft—carrying a faint metallic scent and a trace of floral fragrance from the synthetic botanical gardens nearby. Flying vehicles hummed gently overhead, their engines muted by the city’s noise dampeners. The buzz sounded like the wings of an electronic hummingbird.

In that moment, for the first time in a long while...

...Lin Xian felt peace. Hard-won. Fleeting. Priceless.