“Omi Express? That company is something else, blatantly violating the Constitution.” That was Zhong Yun’s thought.

When the robot announced it was delivering something, he remembered ZER had said the Origin Stones were arriving tonight. He’d been so lost in research earlier, he’d forgotten something this vital.

The robot’s red optical eye lit up, scanning Zhong Yun in a sharp burst as its mechanical voice announced, “Omi Galaxy, Intermediate Civilization Dawu Republic, planet Dar, coordinates: ‘E.’ ‘N.’” “Appearance matches, iris matches.” After its electronic eye flashed twice, the robot addressed Zhong Yun. “Please extend your hand.” Zhong Yun complied.

The robot extended its metallic palm and scanned above his own. “Palm print matches.” “All conditions met.

Here is your item; please sign for receipt.” The robot retrieved a small box from behind its back and presented it to Zhong Yun. “How do I sign?” Zhong Yun patted his clothes, finding no pen.

“Place your palm upon it,” the robot instructed. Zhong Yun stretched out his hand and placed it on the box.

A blue light pattern flashed across the surface, and the box opened silently, revealing eight small inner containers. “Do you have any further questions?” the robot inquired.

“None,” Zhong Yun’s gaze was firmly locked onto the eight boxes. “Then I shall depart.

Goodbye.” The robot then shot upward into the air. Zhong Yun felt a strange sensation.

He craned his neck up, his mouth hanging open. The robot was incredibly fast, vanishing into the horizon in moments.

Did that thing just fly in directly from the sky? Back in his room, following ZER’s instructions, he loaded five Origin Stones onto a small accompanying device and then plugged the computer into the power supply.

All the indicator lights on the main computer unit flickered once, then returned to normal. Zhong Yun stood in the room and let out a quiet sigh.

“Xiao Ling, I will train diligently. When you finally awaken, I will show you a completely different Zhong Yun.” He made a silent vow to the machine.

Just then, the doorbell rang again. This time it was someone from the Yunlai Hotel, but not Xiao Qing; she was about to start middle school, and Zhong Yun hadn’t allowed her to come over.

He called out for Yang Siqing. The old man had been staying here since his arrival but hadn't left his room; Zhong Yun had no idea what he was doing.

“This is the list of machinery I require.” On the dining table, Zhong Yun passed over a densely written sheet of paper. ZER had selected all this machinery, including several very useful components.

Yang Siqing didn’t even glance at it, tucking it straight into his pocket. His eyes roamed over the dozen exquisite little dishes on the table before he finally looked up, pointing at the food.

“You made this?” “No.” Zhong Yun first served a bowl of rice for the elder, then one for himself. He picked up a slice of spherical tofu, placed it in his mouth, and the old man nodded.

“This chef has B-rank skill.” He took another sip of soup. “Hmm, better than B-rank culinary arts.” He concluded his assessment, “B-rank skill achieving the standard of an A-rank chef—whoever made this has a future.” Zhong Yun allowed himself a faint smile, feeling an involuntary surge of pride.

A prominent family like the Yangs must have incredibly strict standards for food. Although Yang Siqing appeared down on his luck, he was very likely a member of the Yang lineage.

Receiving his praise confirmed that Xiao Qing’s culinary skills were indeed remarkable. After the meal, Yang Siqing immediately returned to his room.

Zhong Yun also went back to his room, retrieving the items ZER claimed were worth one billion Omi Credits. A nervous tremor rose in his chest.

One billion! That translated to twenty-five billion Dawu Credits.

Holding the two boxes, which felt surprisingly heavy for their size, he felt the weight of their value. He adjusted his breathing and carefully opened the first box.

Inside lay a pure black bead chain, the beads appearing to be made of dark wood. Nestled among them was one larger, flatter bead etched with intricate patterns.

As he took the chain in his hand, a coolness radiated from the beads, yet they felt almost weightless. He turned the chain over and over several times, feeling a touch of confusion.

It looked more like an ornament. What was its purpose?

Flipping through the box, he finally found a memory chip—a standard Dawu model—with the words “Instruction Manual” inscribed on it. He plugged the chip into his personal computer, and a panoramic video popped up, detailing the exact usage of the bead chain.

After watching it, Zhong Yun was overcome with both shock and delight. This bead chain was, in fact, an extraordinarily powerful manual assistance device, a tool designed to help people execute manual operations.

For instance, if you wished to create something, you only needed to input the schematic, and it could produce the item flawlessly, even if you were utterly hopeless with your hands. By itself, this was merely a sophisticated, miniature fabrication machine.

The true power of this bracelet lay in its capacity to receive direct neural control. The moment a thought formed in your mind, the device would sense it, correcting your movements to achieve the exact effect you intended.

For example, an ordinary person could hardly draw a perfect circle unaided. But with this chain, any shape was possible.

And its precision extended down to 0.1 micrometers. Zhong Yun hugged the bead chain tightly to his chest, smiling in sheer happiness.

After a long moment, his gaze shifted to the second box. Setting the chain aside, he picked up the next container, took a deep breath, and opened it with immense anticipation.

Inside lay something resembling a wad of cloth, though based on his previous experience, he knew high-end products often had peculiar appearances. He lifted the bundle; the texture was exquisite, soft as fine velvet in his hand.

As he unfolded the small mass, it revealed itself to be a vest. He held it up against his frame; it was clearly one size smaller than him.

He tugged at it—the elasticity seemed excellent, suggesting he could wear it. Reaching back into the box, he found another memory chip.

He plugged it into the computer and began playback. It was a lightweight protective suit.

Indeed, it was incredibly light; when crumpled, it was smaller than half a fist. The description explained its superior elasticity, allowing it to conform to any body type, and its memory function: once worn, it would permanently lock to that specific size.

A thoughtful, humane design, Zhong Yun thought. He continued reading until the functional description began.

It could withstand attacks of eight thousand energy units. Damn.

Even with his nerves hardened by rigorous training, Zhong Yun was stunned again. Defending against eight thousand energy units?

That level of defense rivaled a mecha. Putting on this vest, what in this entire nation could truly threaten him, short of a full mech or a massive particle cannon?

The thought almost made him burst into unrestrained laughter. Keep it low-key, keep it low-key.

After a moment, he managed to suppress his excitement and continued reviewing the instructions. This lightweight protective suit also featured an intelligent judgment system.

Meaning, it could proactively detect danger to its owner and activate its defense protocols automatically. For example, if an energy beam was fired at him, or if an object approached him with excessive kinetic energy, it would defend itself actively.

This was a mobile fortress. Upon finishing the overview, Zhong Yun breathed out in awe.

P: Already rushed to 28th place, many thanks to all the brothers who voted; only thirteen places left to reach the target.