To welcome the exhibition, the already pristine visage of the Xilian Galaxy was freshly adorned anew. The station’s stark, rigid lines dissolved into a riot of color, vibrant blossoms, and streaming banners, as if an iron man’s eyes were suddenly filled with tenderness.
Yellow pyrotechnics, signaling the exhibition’s commencement, erupted from the station’s core. The transparent shielding of the space station began to glide open, and a hundred tiger-shaped mechas flew in formation from the void, moving with perfect synchronicity.
The moment they entered the station, they opened their jaws, emitting a roar—a sound deep as a true beast’s, vast as muffled thunder. They lunged forward, reminiscent of tigers stalking prey, startling the assembled tourists.
Before the onlookers could fully process the sight, the tiger mechas split down the middle, revealing two hundred humanoid mechas emerging from behind. These new arrivals tumbled in with acrobatic flips.
The tiger mechas roared once more, and a surge of powerful music swelled. The humanoid mechas, uniformly designed, transformed the vast space into a colossal stage.
One hundred of them continued their acrobatic entry, flying to the flanks, leaving the center clear. The hundred mechas remaining in the middle began to dance, moving in perfect time with the swelling music.
These towering machines, each exceeding twenty meters, were sheathed in brilliant, snow-white pseudo-silver ultra-metal, accented with gleaming, golden tri-titanium alloy—a spectacle so dazzling it hurt the eyes. The tourists watched, almost in disbelief, as the mechas executed maneuvers of incredible difficulty.
These machines were astonishingly limber, moving with the grace of elite gymnasts, utterly subverting every preconceived notion people held about mechas. As the piece concluded, they dispersed at unparalleled speed, settling into various stations across the complex.
Then, thirty Dreadnoughts materialized in the void, arriving as if besieging a fortress. The audience was once again profoundly shaken.
What terrifying military might! What an imposing presence!
What crushing pressure! They felt utterly trapped within the city limits, with no escape routes visible.
Yet, this oppressive feeling lasted less than thirty seconds. The battleships systematically dispersed, their weapon ports simultaneously opening, unleashing countless massive barium fireworks that exploded across the Xilian Galaxy sky in a simultaneous burst.
The brilliant luminescence bathed the entire space station in the light of high noon. The Wolf’s Lair Exhibition was now commencing!
They tilted their heads upward, and through the fading smoke of the fireworks, a white steed suddenly appeared, bearing a pair of snow-white wings. Its hooves tapped rhythmically as it carved an exquisitely beautiful arc through the air, heading toward the station.
As it drew nearer, one could clearly distinguish the flowing mane and the distinct texture of the feathers on its wings. Closer still, the white horse grew larger, until its bright, resolute eyes were clearly visible.
Seated upon its back was a man clad in knight’s armor—it was none other than one of Wolf’s Lair’s most famous automatons: the F-series Omni-Robot. A collective gasp swept through the surrounding crowd.
If the rider was a robot, did that colossal, winged white horse also belong to the robot category? Impossible!
Simultaneously, within the station, the G-series little girl and Butler W lined up perfectly in two neat columns. In the glow of the barium fireworks, they bowed in unison.
Their voices rang out clearly: "Welcome honored guests!" The delegates from the various Legions, standing between the formidable presence of the tigers, the looming mechas, and the Dreadnoughts overhead—a truly awe-inspiring (and terrifying) atmosphere—walked toward the exhibition hall with trembling legs. Wolf’s Lair wasn't merely showcasing its technical prowess; it was issuing a demonstration of force!
If they dared make a single false move, perhaps a single opening of a Wolf’s Lair tiger mecha's jaw would spell their end. The more they contemplated it, the greater their panic grew.
Looking up at the sweet, disarming smile of the G-series little girl only heightened their unease; this felt unmistakably like a banquet held by an enemy—a veritable Hongmen Banquet, no doubt. Especially since, within the vast exhibition grounds, they could only identify one staff member officially representing Wolf’s Lair.
That was Old Dog, the leader of the Wolf’s Lair Legion, standing before the robots, greeting everyone with that unsettling smile. Entering the main hall, all that met the eye, as far as they could see, were robots.
Among the guests were two technical personnel from the Interstellar Federation, attending to gauge Wolf’s Lair’s technological level. Wolf’s Lair and the Federation were mortal enemies.
They had already been apprehensive, fearing what Wolf’s Lair might do to them, and this display only amplified their uncertainty. One of the more timid technicians whispered, "Perhaps we should just leave.
It’s too dangerous here. I suspect this is a trap—‘Inviting the Lord into the Urn.’” Before the other could reply, a voice boomed from above them: "Those issuing personal attacks should exercise restraint.
Wolf’s Lair's exhibition is for the purpose of friendly exchange and peaceful development. Any objections should be directed to the exit door on your left." The two looked at each other, utterly dumbfounded.
They were the only two people within a two-meter radius; where did that voice originate? Did a deity reside three feet above their heads?
How terrifying... The other technician, who had been slightly bolder, instantly lost his nerve upon hearing the words.
"Forget it, let's just go outside. Something is not right here." As they spoke, they heard someone exclaim in utter astonishment, "How marvelous!
I saw a streetlamp talking!" The pair spun their heads toward the sound, seeing the person pointing upward at the lamppost. Startled by fright, they managed a dismissive sneer: "How is that possible?" Their sneer wasn't loud enough to be heard, but a loud scoff implies guilt.
Their guilt was mirrored not just by the scornful glances of passersby, but by the streetlamp itself. The streetlamp replied with perfect nonchalance, "All streetlamps on this station are equipped with vocal functions." The sneering duo: "..." Do you know what it feels like when you can't maintain your sneer?
The C-series pure beauty acting as customer service by the roadside offered a gentle smile. "Gentlemen need not be so surprised.
All the advanced technology utilized on this station is designed to better serve humanity." One technician had a thought spark in his mind and blurted out, "Was the white horse at the opening ceremony also advanced technology?" The C-series pure beauty replied with a knowing smile, "Indeed. That is our newest model of transforming mecha, named 'White Horse.' It possesses countless forms, yet its pure snow-white color remains constant." Holy smokes!
It was a mecha all along?! The two Federation technicians felt completely undone.
Just how many years had they fallen behind Wolf’s Lair's technology? The opening ceremony had been broadcast live by countless news outlets.
Upon their return, they would certainly face questioning from their superiors: Why had their technological development lagged so far behind Wolf’s Lair? If their superiors were in a bad mood...
If the higher-ups felt they had achieved nothing... They could very well end up packing their bags and being fired.
This potential reality was brutal. They looked ahead.
The path ahead was empty, as if it were their final route. Wait—no!
The slightly bolder technician suddenly realized, "Where did everyone go? Weren't there many people around just now?
Where did they all disappear to?" He turned to the C-series pure beauty customer service, who replied with a gentle smile, "The journey to the venue is 1038 meters. Our esteemed guests dislike walking and have opted for sky-gondolas, having departed ahead of you." They looked up and indeed saw gondolas whizzing beneath the station shield, vanishing from sight in moments.
The C-series pure beauty continued smiling reassuringly, "The two guests need not worry. The scenery along the road is equally beautiful; walking will allow you to appreciate much of the advanced technology that cannot be seen from above." Advanced technology?
Like talking streetlamps? The customer service beauty was an ordinary intelligent robot and could not glean useful information from their shifting expressions, so she dutifully informed them, "If the two of you grow tired of walking, please simply mention it to one of the female robot customer service attendants roadside, and she will surely prepare a sky-gondola for you." The timid technician felt both humiliated and deeply concerned for his future.
Without a second thought, he dragged his companion away. "Let's hurry forward and find a robot customer service beauty to get us a gondola.
No matter what, we must uncover the foundation of Wolf’s Lair’s technology this time." The C-series pure beauty watched their frantic retreat, tilting her head in confusion. "Am I merely considered a robot, and not a 'robot customer service beauty'?" The layout of the robot exhibition hall was strikingly similar to that of a grand fashion show—pulsating music, dazzling and provocative displays, and a flurry of constantly clicking cameras.
Only a small fraction of the robots within the venue were static, standing or sitting still; the vast majority were engaged in work. In Venue Area One, some robots were using vacuum cleaners to sweep up dust tracked in by guests; others were dismantling mecha components; still others were writing code; and some were tenderly caring for robot infants.
Venue Area Two presented a contrasting scene: some robots were skillfully braiding the long, exquisite hair of another robot; some were embroidering; and others were playing musical instruments—a pure tableau of self-amusement. One sleazy man, intent on verifying the robots’ reality, crept toward the edge and discreetly slapped the backside of the robot playing the piano...
Smack— A crisp sound of shattering bone echoed. The sleazy man shrieked like a butchered pig and collapsed onto the ground, legs giving way.
"Ow! My hand!" The piano-playing robot beauty gracefully withdrew her hand and continued playing the "Symphony of Fate," a piece whose grandeur had not diminished over a thousand years.
Immediately, four medical robot attendants in white coats rushed out from the corner of the venue, placed the sleazy man onto a stretcher, and carried him toward Area Four. The doctor robot accompanying the stretcher performed emergency triage maneuvers while moving.
The sleazy man: "..." Robots are terrifying! The doctor robot seemed to recall something and addressed the crowd gathered around the injured man: "Area Two is strictly for entertainment.
Life safety is not guaranteed if physical contact is initiated. Those wishing to engage in combat should proceed to Area Three, where engagement is stopped upon request." A curious tourist glanced toward Area Three.
The only activity in Area Three was fighting! Whether it was the cute, powder-pink G-series loli or the formidable, burly J-series behemoth, they were all incredibly adept fighters.
Besides battling each other, they also challenged the observing guests. One-on-one duels, tag teams, and massive brawls—the action was nonstop and mesmerizing.
Upon witnessing this scene, the two technicians shared a single, common thought: If Wolf’s Lair has elevated robotics to this level, what standing is left for humanity?