Tempest of the Battlefield Chapter 35: Repair Charcoal

Chapter 35: Repair Charcoal

Translator: Oneshotwonder Editor: Tehrn

"Are you sure?" Samantha's stern eyes lit up.

w.a.n.g Tong did not waiver, and he acted as if he didn't notice her interrogating stare. "Princ.i.p.al, they say only diamond cuts diamond. At my current state, I am not sure how much use I can be. But once I have learned more, I will strive to earn more honors for our school; you have my words!"

Seeing that w.a.n.g Tong was unwavering, Samantha relented, "You are right, let's leave it for now, maybe we can discuss it later."

"Sounds good. Is there anything else?"

Samantha shook her head as she watched w.a.n.g Tong set off. The youngest princ.i.p.al in the entire Confederation had tasted defeat for the first time.

"You are dead, w.a.n.g Tong," Samantha thought to herself bitterly.

Without looking, w.a.n.g Tong could feel Samantha's chilling stare landed on the back of his neck. His hair stood on ends. He wouldn't have to confront Samantha if she hadn't have tried to force him into the limelight again.

The tournament was a waste of time for rich princes and princesses: flaunt and unpractical. w.a.n.g Tong's focus was on the Tactics of the Blade and TPA. The latter was not only a great place for sparring, but it also allowed w.a.n.g Tong to do so anonymously.

The monthly test was over, and w.a.n.g Tong had left the results to fate. He figured that it was about time to start reviving Charcoal. The astronomical price tag had pretty much ruled out the major department stores and outlets, leaving w.a.n.g Tong to try his luck at dingy shops that scattered about in the darkest corners of the city.

w.a.n.g Tong had frequented these shops ever since he was little, usually being led by the sleazy Old Fart. Despite the occasional skirmish with the law, these squalid shops had always strived to satisfy the needs of their customers.

As w.a.n.g Tong searched every corner of the city, he stumbled upon a grocery store that he had frequented with Old Fart years ago. Disguised as an ordinary grocery store, the owner's supply was far more diverse than a grocery store should be.

The owner was an old man, older even than Old Fart. He wore a pair of ancient and heavy far-sighted gla.s.ses on his face like wearing a badge that honored his old, albeit stubborn, ways.

"Little Tong Tong, long time no see!" The old man smiled, revealing a row of crooked yellow teeth. Some teeth were missing, leaving only a dark hole gaping toward w.a.n.g Tong.

"Old Bonehead, do you think you can fix this for me?"

Old Bonehead studied Charcoal's mainframe for a moment and replied, "The C model, it was discontinued a while ago, it’s a b.u.g.g.e.r to fix you know."

Feeling that he was about to arrive at another dead end, w.a.n.g Tong quickly digressed, "It doesn't have to be the same replica, as long as it works."

"If that's the case, I can give it a try. I have a lower tier cleaning robot that's just lying around collecting dust; I can use it for parts."

Old Bonehead was referring to an ancient floor-cleaning machine that was three feet tall. It lacked the joints that Charcoal had and therefore would be even clumsier than the C models.

“A robot even clumsier than Charcoal...” the thought made w.a.n.g Tong cringed. But considering that this might be Charcoal's only chance of being revived, w.a.n.g Tong had to compromise. "How much?" he asked.

"You have been my loyal customer, so I am just going to be honest. The parts are not expensive, but the labor is. Say I will give you 20 percent off that will be thirteen thousand, omitting the extra three grand for the sake of a smooth transaction, and I will throw another twenty percent off on top of that, the final price would be eight grand. Just the labor would cost that much; you are practically getting the parts for free."

w.a.n.g Tong shook his head and extended only two fingers.

Old Bonehead was fl.u.s.tered after being low-balled by w.a.n.g Tong. "No way!" he yelled out and extended all five fingers at w.a.n.g Tong.

Seeing that Old Bonehead had quickly slashed three grand off the original offer, w.a.n.g Tong was confident to haggle even further. He shook his head and said, "Twenty-eight hundred; a discount for my kindred.[1] That's all I have; you know how poor I am, I really can't afford anymore."

"Fine you little brat, taking advantage of me as soon as you come back from Norton, aren’t you? Anyhow, so be it, I don't want others to scold me for not helping a “kindred”. The a.s.sembly will take an hour, are you waiting here or would you like to pick it up tomorrow?"

"I will wait."

"Okay. You are lucky that the mainframe was unharmed. Otherwise, you would never be able to bring him back."

The Old Bonehead led w.a.n.g Tong inside. The shop was small and squalid, and heaps of junks were scattered everywhere. Old Bonehead cleared a path toward one side of the wall. As he placed his palm on an impression on the wall, a bright light flashed, and the wall was lifted up by some kind of contraption, revealing a whole different world inside.

The Old Bonehead was quickly engrossed in his work. He tampered with various nuts and bolts enthusiastically with great attention to detail, all the while, he seemed to have transformed from a half dead shrunken husk to an energetic and lively youth.

w.a.n.g Tong registered that Old Bonehead had used the eight-node version of the Tactics of the Blade while conducting the repair. Although Old Bonehead's soul energy was meager, he had maintained delicate control over it.

Although w.a.n.g Tong could not follow the repairing procedure, he enjoyed watching Old Bonehead's fluid movements, perfected by countless hours of practice.

One hour had pa.s.sed, and Old Bonehead had finally finished his work. "Haha, Fini!"

"Kerh… Kerh… Booo"

The light on Charcoal's new face lit up for a brief second before it dimmed.

"Urghh! Why? Impossible!" Old Bonehead growled as he rechecked the circuits. Everything was normal, but Charcoal had refused to be turned on.

"The mainframe must be p.o.o.ped, he is useless now, only the manufacturers could deal with a fried mainframe, but I doubt that they would waste any time on a C model. You might as well throw him away now."

"No! You must return the mainframe to me, be careful while you do it!" w.a.n.g Tong bowled out.

"It’s just a piece of junk; the youngsters of today's world are ridiculous," Old Bonehead mumbled to himself as he unscrewed the mainframe from the body.

w.a.n.g Tong was desperate as he carefully packed the mainframe back into his crystal, all the while, he kept on reminding himself not to give up, as long as he had the mainframe, he would continue looking for a way to bring Charcoal back.

Although the monthly test was over, w.a.n.g Tong didn’t feel like his mood was any lighter. A living and lovely Charcoal had been at his fingertips, but it had then slipped away in a snap.

Just like w.a.n.g Tong, Miao Xiu had been in a bad mood lately as well. Every day, he would log on to the TPA but never partic.i.p.ated in any fights as if he was waiting for someone. Only Luv Ma knew his intentions and who he was waiting for. Einherjar Wannabe had disappeared after defeating Miao Xiu, and Miao Xiu was hungry for revenge.

Carrying a chip on his shoulder, Miao Xiu had since bullied many other cla.s.smates to let off some steam. So much anger to vent for the most despicable deed was done to him: Disappearing after one victory and therefore refused him a chance for revenge.

He pocketed his hands as he walked towards the school gym.

"Yo, isn't it Miao Xiu? Why that stupid look on your face? Can't handle the fact that your a.s.s got beaten at TPA?" A group of second-year students taunted him. They had despised this pompous first-year student for undermining the senior student's authority and constantly stirring up scuffles.

"F*ck off!" Miao Xiu greeted them back with a curse.

The senior students quickly encircled him, emboldened by their advantage in number. "What did you say?"

Miao Xiu shook his head. "I said, ‘You dumb*sses are D.E.A.D.!’"

Notes:

In the raw, it was “twenty-eight hundred, let’s get rich together”, and it rhymed. We decided to change the later half a little to keep the rhyme.