Ziye finally understood what was going on, in a single sentence: An Junlie disliked that her servicing of the mech didn't match his piloting habits.

Wasn't that stating the obvious? How long had they been together? She wasn't a god; how could she possibly know his precise piloting quirks? The little she did know was based on the mech’s general wear and tear. If he hadn't fought that redhead a few times recently and provided some fresh data, she would have had to repair it based on standard specifications!

The high and mighty pilot always assumed the technician would restore the mech to its absolute perfection, just as they assumed they were suited for the most powerful machines.

Ziye desperately wanted to retort, but she swallowed the words. He was right. A mech repaired this way required a long period of operation and integration between the pilot and the machine. Once all the rough edges were smoothed out, perhaps it would need replacement and repair again—a vicious cycle.

In a way, she admitted, she wasn't professional enough.

The profession of a technician had always been difficult for pilots to grasp.

But An Junlie’s lack of understanding hurt her more than a little.

An Junlie, you have no idea I want to punch your nose in right now. Ziye silently sucked in breath after breath, finally calming herself. She opened the light-screen, extracted the test data, and compared it to the complete data of his mech; there was a 2% discrepancy.

“You can’t blame me for this,” Ziye attempted to sound calmer. “The alloy you require isn’t available here. If we used bio-materials, the tenacity would be excellent and could completely avoid the issue.”

An Junlie narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone becoming even harsher. “Bio-materials are theoretically viable, yes. But, you little brat, please stop dwelling on useless theories. If you truly want to prove something, to innovate, build a bio-material mech yourself and demonstrate the correctness of your theory.”

An Junlie was never one for niceties. No need for courtesy toward enemies; no inclination for it toward strangers; no requirement for it with his own people. The people he valued most were often the ones he was least gentle with; he believed directly addressing the flaw was the best way to spur improvement.

However, he clearly underestimated Ziye.

After he finished speaking, he was shocked to see tears welling up in Ziye’s eyes, glistening with grievance.

Ziye possessed a pair of stunning eyes, shimmering like water, and her aggrieved expression now held a touch of innocent pathos, looking utterly pitiable. An Junlie felt a surge of an indefinable emotion. She truly was just a child, lacking the emotional resilience for such confrontations.

Apologizing was out of the question for him.

He decisively turned his face away, maintaining his tough stance.

Ziye didn't expect an apology anyway. She quickly composed herself, opened the workshop’s control screen, and summoned the work robots: “Unload and transport the X007 mech to the Nano-Repair Bay.” She stood up and walked toward the door. After a few steps, she turned back, her voice completely flat. “Except for the mech’s left arm, I will reconstruct everything else to the exact original configuration of your machine.”

Huh?

An Junlie opened his mouth, about to speak, but Ziye was already moving forward. He scratched his head in confusion. Did something feel off? Was Ziye, despite her feminine appearance, also petty like a woman?

And so, the formidable Legion Commander, Lord An Junlie, was left utterly bewildered...

Using nano-robot repair technology was hundreds of times faster than standard maintenance. Even 1000mm-thick starship armor could be reconstructed and repaired within an hour, let alone a small mech. The only requirement for using this technology was a precise blueprint.

Ziye had already fully scanned the blueprint while dismantling the machine for maintenance; proceeding with the repair was now trivially easy. Within mere minutes, the mech returned to its pre-damaged state, even the pitted outer surface gleaming brilliantly.

Ziye connected to An Junlie’s SilverLink and sent a brief message: “The mech will exit the Nano-Repair Bay in one minute. Please be ready to retrieve it.”

An Junlie froze for a long moment. Alright, the pretty boy was definitely angry!

Scratching his head, he decided to cook Ziye a lavish meal as an apology. Ziye loved good food; surely she wouldn't refuse him. He looked up and saw Little Sprout floating mid-air, watching him with beady eyes. He couldn't resist reaching out and poking one of its glass eyeballs. How could glass convey such a mocking expression?

Little Sprout pouted and bounced three feet back, shouting, “Hateful! How could you tease me?”

—

Although Ziye was angry, she hadn't lost her reason. She compared the 007’s test data with the nano-reconstructed mech and, after re-integrating everything, discovered the root of the problem.

An Junlie was right; her work was based entirely on theory, lacking practical integration. The parts hadn't mated smoothly enough, causing the chassis to act stiffly during leaps, pivots, and cannon firings. Furthermore, the repairs didn't fully align with human ergonomic requirements—no wonder An Junlie was furious.

Never mind. She would address it another time; the nano-repair robots had solved it for now anyway.

Being a technician truly was an unrewarding profession, Ziye thought, sighing silently as she stared at the data on the light-screen. The crucial factor, really, was that she believed An Junlie should understand her, but in reality, he had disappointed her!

No matter how skilled he was, he was still a pilot. In a pilot’s eyes, there was only the perfect nano-repair robot, not the technician.

This realization made her somewhat depressed.

Perhaps her expectations for An Junlie had been too high? The greater the hope, the greater the pain when confronted with reality. But the path was her own choice; she had to bear the consequences.

An Junlie and she were ultimately not traveling the same road. This incident proved that An Junlie was not someone she could rely on; she had to continue living strongly on her own.

Her initial choice of becoming a technician was purely to survive on SilverMark. Since Teacher Tangshan was a weapon designer, she had no avenue there. Lacking physical strength or any other trade, this was her only option. At the time, she couldn't even comprehend if a technician had a place when repairs could be done rapidly by nano-robots using standard protocol programming.

To her question, Tangshan had only smiled.

He said, “Silly child, no matter how powerful the mech or starship, if it was made by humans, it will have inherent flaws. As a technician, your job is to understand those flaws and be able to compensate and correct them—something nano-robot reconstruction can never achieve. Moreover, nano-robot technology itself was developed by people. The most crucial point is this: reconstruction requires a blueprint, but a technician does not.”