Legend of the Cyber Heroes
Chapter 201 - 201 121 Broadcasting Client

201: Chapter 121 Broadcasting Client 201: Chapter 121 Broadcasting Client “Do you know the phrase ‘I’ve come back from Hell’?”

Faced with this question, Cui Hai was somewhat bewildered.

“Ah, if you really ask me specifically who said it, I really don’t know…”

——Damn.

This time, it was Xiang Shan’s turn to be bewildered.

“Ah, I can be sure that the Eighth Martial God never said that line,” Jader pondered for a moment before answering, “The Eighth Martial God was exposed too early and sacrificed too early.

She was directly killed from beyond visual range by King Aqini’s fleet and didn’t manage to do anything worth mentioning before dying.”

“Then, the Second Martial God definitely said it.

His very first battle was announced with this phrase, declaring war on the Protectors.”

“Then, the Eleventh Martial God…

did he say this phrase?”

Cui Hai nodded, “Yes, yes, he did.

It circulated online.”

Xiang Shan held his forehead.

He really felt exhausted.

It seemed that another question had been resolved.

The reason why the Demon Sect Research Knight said to him “Congratulations on coming back from Hell again” had been found.

Damn.

Really…

I don’t know what to say anymore.

Xiang Shan vaguely remembered this was a line from some work.

He had no memory of that work, just remembered that the line was very impactful.

Probably…

The Personality Mask would make a similar judgment.

Clearly, the other Martial Gods thought the same.

This phrase probably got used so often that during the spreading process, it was integrated into the sayings of the Martial Ancestor.

Too…

Xiang Shan really didn’t know how to comment anymore.

——Avoid using this line.

He thought to himself.

The Solo Kill King patted his shoulder, saying, “Alright, bro, let’s get going.”

Xiang Shan nodded and followed him into the “Mule.”

Under the cover of darkness, the three vehicles set off again.

The young Heroes, along with Yuki and the little one, squeezed into the “Mule.” This vehicle had slightly better performance than the “Donkey” they originally had.

When necessary, this vehicle offered them a slightly better chance of escape.

The Solo Kill King and Xiang Shan were preparing inside the Donkey.

About an hour later, the group stopped.

This was also to allow the vehicle bodies to cool down to avoid satellite detection.

Xiang Shan and the Solo Kill King, as per their earlier discussion, went out to plant EMP mines.

This place was far from residential areas, so there was basically no concern about ordinary people passing by and accidentally getting injured.

Actually, when facing massive troop chases, Iron Dust was not so effective.

Unless Iron Dust spread in the center of the troops, otherwise, the moment Iron Dust appeared, the troops could rely on firepower to cover the area affected by Iron Dust.

Especially in the wilderness.

An EMP mine, however, could create a temporary shield in certain areas, disrupting the enemy’s command system.

During a life-and-death battle, if an EMP exploded in the distance and scrambled the enemy’s command system, that often allowed the Heroes to escape with their lives.

Even if not triggered during a critical moment, under normal circumstances, this device could greatly slow down the enemy’s marching speed.

The young Heroes were also helping to make some simple traps.

However, every bit of electricity was precious now, so unless it was necessary work, these youngsters would choose to sit quietly in the vehicle, conserving energy.

Yuki also held the little one, sitting quietly in the corner.

Xiang Shan planted mines far away, so he returned later.

When he got back to the vehicle, the Solo Kill King was already there, nodding his head and humming a song.

Xiang Shan started the vehicle.

The group continued on their predetermined path.

After heading ten kilometers to the northwest, they would turn northeast to avoid the surveillance of Heavenly Punishment.

Xiang Shan, curious, glanced at Jader, saying, “Feeling good, little brother?

You’re still in the mood to hum songs at this time.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jader said, “I found a Broadcasting Client with pretty good taste.”

“Huh?” Xiang Shan was momentarily startled, “Are we connected to the network now or something?”

“Broadcast?” Jader was also surprised, “Bro, haven’t you heard of it?”

“Broadcast…

oh, broadcast…”

Xiang Shan nodded.

Only then did he notice that Jader’s head had been resting near the gun port the whole time.

To receive electromagnetic signals in a place surrounded by metal indeed required this.

In his era, the concept of “broadcast” did exist.

But in the early 21st century, traditional broadcasting had already declined.

The “broadcast” Xiang Shan knew was more a “online audio program” than a broadcast program, or simply “audio.”

But he hadn’t expected that in this era, primitive broadcasting could actually revive.

Of course, the broadcasting technology of this era also differed from that of past times.

In an environment ruled by Protectors, broadcasting had evolved.

Broadcasting clients were all working independently now.

Their broadcasting antennas were fully hidden within their prosthetic bodies, allowing them to disguise themselves as normal workers.

However, in the dead of night, they would reveal their claws and fangs.

Unlike the past, modern broadcasting clients no longer transmitted signals in all directions—doing so would enable their locations to be quickly triangulated by comparing signal strengths from various areas.

If broadcasting clients operated in that way, the likelihood of them being completely eliminated was simply too high.

They would send out a directional electromagnetic wave signal into the sky.

This medium-short wave signal couldn’t penetrate the ionosphere and was reflected by it, scattering over the ground.

Of course, this was still not entirely safe.

As long as the Protectors had enough receivers and sufficiently precise algorithms, they could still pinpoint a broadcasting client to a relatively small area through multiple parameter calculations.

After all, “rebellion” was never an easy task.

Broadcasting clients represented another front in the propaganda war spearheaded by heroic individuals.

Not everyone possessed the inner strength to navigate freely within the networks established by the Protectors.

Nor could every ordinary person regularly access the network—in most cases, they were unknowingly connected passively, controlled through the backdoors of their prosthetic eyes.

That’s why broadcasting clients emerged.

They were a type of hero—just as there were distinctions like “Blade Guests” and “Swordsmen” in ancient martial arts novels.

“Broadcasting” was their weapon.

Their inner strength was often not enough to allow them to act with impunity.

Occasionally some had strong external strength, but most were only at the level of martial arts school students.

Yet, they kept transmitting the “fire” from the past—the embers of culture.

Xiang Shan whistled, “Cool.

How do you listen to it?”

“Bro, you really don’t know anything about what young people like,” Jader shook his head.

“Although, this thing has only been established in the past seventy or eighty years.”

In his heart, Xiang Shan might be an even older hero.

Xiang Shan nodded, “Alright, do tell.

What frequency?

I’d like to hear it too.

Quite curious.”

“Well, first you need to download a plugin online…”

“Huh?” Xiang Shan was taken aback.

It was his first time hearing that one needed a plugin to listen to the radio.

“Oh, can’t access the internet now.

No worries, I’ll just send it to you,” Jader said.

“Don’t think it’s nonsense.

Think about it—the electromagnetic signal loses so much during its journey through the atmosphere, and when it reflects back from the ionosphere to the ground, how much quality can it retain?”

Xiang Shan nodded, “That makes sense…”

“Installing a plugin will ensure that the sound undergoes preprocess treatment, at least making the expression clear,” Jader said.

“You should already have hardware that can receive medium-long wave signals, right?

You wouldn’t need an additional plugin?”

Xiang Shan nodded.

He quickly installed the plugin shared by Jader and, with Jader’s guidance, found the corresponding channel.

According to Jader, every broadcasting client was a potential hero, so they usually didn’t stay in one place, hiding from the Protector’s search.

The broadcasting technology they used also limited the range of their broadcasts.

So what you could hear in one place was a matter of luck.

And these broadcasting clients were also waiting.

If a senior expert heard their broadcasts and thought they were talents worth molding, they would often find a way to contact them and give them a magnetic chain.

Within those magnetic chains could be keys to higher levels of inner strength.

Xiang Shan closed his eyes.

In a rustling sound, he heard a low, hoarse voice singing.

“‘Die Gedanken sind frei,’ ‘thoughts are free,’

‘wer kann sie erraten,’ ‘no one can guess them,’

‘sie fliehen vorbei’ ‘they pass by stealthily’

‘wie nächtliche Schatten.’ ‘like midnight shadows.’

‘Kein Mensch kann sie wissen’ ‘no person can know them'”

………………………………

‘kein Jäger erschießen’ ‘no hunter can shoot them’

‘es bleibet dabei:’ ‘it remains thus:’

‘Die Gedanken sind frei!’ ‘thoughts are free!’

‘Ich denke was ich will’ ‘I think what I want,’

‘und was mich beglücket’ ‘what makes me happy,’

‘doch alles in der Still’ ‘yet all in silence,’

‘und wie es sich schicket’ ‘as it fits,’

‘Mein Wunsch und Begehren’ ‘my wish and desire,’

‘kann niemand verwehren’ ‘no one can suppress,’

‘es bleibet dabei:’ ‘it remains thus:’

‘Die Gedanken sind frei!’ ‘thoughts are free!’

A prosthetic body crouched on a small mound.

It looked just like a worker, the whole prosthetic body having standard industrial specifications, two meters long, two meters high, two meters wide, with exceptionally thick limbs.

He was indistinguishable from the sorting workers in Recycling Station Town.

But, he had an additional pair of prosthetic hands on his abdomen.

These hands were similar to ones Xiang Shan had used long ago, the type his grandmother Yuki had used—same model, similarly worn-out.

The hands held a tin guitar.

The guitar strings were made of copper wires.

The sound of the guitar itself wasn’t much, but the vibration of the metal strings would be converted into electrical signals.

These electrical signals, along with his songs, would climb to the ionosphere, blossoming into an invisible flower.

From the trumpet-like emitter on his back.

This broadcasting client stood under the moonlight, like a pot of metal bonsai.