After arriving at the Robot Settlement…
Unlike the dark, silent Rivet Town, this place was bright and bustling, thanks to the energy cores used for heating. Still, it was only a slight improvement.
Above them, the sky was as black as ever, filled with enormous gray gears and faintly glowing transport pipes carrying geolattice up and down.
It wasn’t humans who filled the pathways here but automatons.
From common war dog models and beetle types to specialized tactical spiders and the more heavily armored grizzly and fang-wolf models, the entire range was present.
Most of them were battered and worn down; some even had exposed power cables, dripping oil onto the floor.
A few were dragging the wreckage of self-destructed spider models, pulling them in for part salvage and reuse.
The moment Clara spotted these war-worn automatons, she hurried over to help.
Though young and adorably innocent, she was no ordinary little girl.
In terms of mechanical engineering, she was as skilled as any master with decades of experience, even earning Mr. Svarog’s recognition. Nearly every automaton in the Robot Settlement had undergone her repairs or modifications.
But just as she busied herself with the damaged units—
A beetle-type automaton approached Venti, speaking in a polite, synthesized male voice.
“Greetings, Miss Venti. Mr. Svarog wishes to meet with you.”
It added in a recorded message: “—The results of this discussion will determine the assessed risk factor for the target individual. Should it fall below the safety threshold, the target will be subjected to a two-month observation period, during which contact with Clara is prohibited.”
“Whoa, this sounds intense!”
Venti scratched his cheek, muttering in a low voice.
“…Looks like the welcoming committee is anything but friendly.”
The thought of not being able to accompany Clara inside filled him with a pang of anxiety, as though his plans had been found out.
The beetle, or rather, Beetle T800, continued in its calm, gentlemanly voice.
“According to the Robot Settlement database, your background: unknown. Gender: unknown. Motive: unknown. Trustworthiness: pending. Classified as: unidentified information.”
“Conclusion: You are not a member of ‘Robot Settlement.’ In human cultural terms: the stranger here is you. Please proceed, Miss Venti.”
“Alright, alright. I’m an uninvited guest, after all.”
Venti wasn’t troubled; in fact, he chuckled and shifted the topic.
“By the way, I’m curious as to why you’re calling me ‘Miss.’ Doesn’t your database say my gender is unknown?”
For a moment, Beetle T800’s eyes flickered between red and green, as if puzzled by this minor oversight.
“Insufficient physical data to resolve query. Supplementary conclusion: the designation was manually programmed by Miss Clara.”
“So that’s it! Well, if it’s Clara’s doing, that explains it.”
Venti chuckled, finally understanding.
These automatons sometimes felt far from ordinary machines. Their AI seemed as advanced as any he’d seen, surpassing even the “tilling machines” of Khaenri’ah in logical processing.
It made him wonder at the technological marvels of Jarilo’s past—a civilization so rich, yet just a mere fragment in the vastness of the universe.
The world was indeed vast, and he knew the day would come when he’d leave this place, journeying to gaze upon a billion stars in their shared breath.
With this thought lingering, Venti followed Beetle T800 deeper into the Robot Settlement.
The inner area wasn’t much different from the outer parts, except for a spacious square large enough to fit a hundred people.
In the center, two automatons were sparring, surrounded by onlookers, especially children who cheered the loudest.
Though Robot Settlement was on high alert, people couldn’t work twenty-four hours a day. They needed some outlet to ease their mental strain.
As it happened, the settlement was home to many retired automatons, around eighty to a hundred in total.
Some independent mechanics even brought their own “mechanical pets” to participate.
The whole thing was like a cyberpunk version of beetle fighting.
While it wasn’t the most thrilling of matches—most combatants were low-grade beetle models—the atmosphere was lively, like a Pokémon battle between two Metapods using Harden and Tackle.
Compared to the grim, life-or-death black-market fight rings of Rivet Town, it was a far better alternative.
Even if those fight rings offered more spectacle, Venti always avoided such places of condensed vice.
After wading through the crowd and exchanging greetings with a few settlement residents who recognized him, Venti finally followed Beetle T800 to Svarog.
He stood before a large, fortress-like building that looked fit for a military command center. The building’s exterior bore signs of mechanical modifications, with a core energy source nearby, radiating heat that made the air around it shimmer.
It was thanks to these energy cores spread throughout the Robot Settlement that the area was warmer than the outside, even uncomfortably so.
It was likely no issue for automatons like Mr. Svarog, who often occupied the space. And perhaps this was why Clara preferred to walk around barefoot.
At this moment, Svarog was connected to several data cables, managing the automaton control terminal. His single, rose-hued eye glowed as streams of data flashed across it.
With his alloyed purple helmet and powerful build, he looked every bit the battle-hardened machine, prompting Venti to blurt out—
“Hey there, Big Guy!”
Venti didn’t care if Svarog was busy; he approached with his usual easygoing cheer.
Calling him “big guy” wasn’t without reason.
First, Svarog had indeed done a great deal to keep the Lower District running. This was why Wildfire never gave up hope of working with him.
Second, in a way, he was Clara’s guardian. If they formed a team, Svarog would be their trusty shield and protector—a title like “old man” wouldn’t be out of place.
“—Biothermal signature detected. Recognizing biological data. Identification result: Bard Venti. Hostility level: none. Routine calculation complete.”
“Scan result will be logged in this record: Completion Era, Year , Month , Day .”
The data flow in Svarog’s eye dispersed as he turned a penetrating gaze on Venti.
Although he was a machine, not a living creature, and “eye contact” might not technically apply, Venti felt a strange mix of humanity and extreme logic in that mechanical gaze.
“So, Big Guy, other than showing off your security protocols, what did you want to talk about? Let’s cut to the chase and chat openly, yeah?”
Venti tried to sidle closer, but Svarog held him at a firm arm’s length with his steel hand.
“Please maintain an appropriate social distance.”
Svarog wasn’t one to fall for friendly gestures, and his synthesized voice was as reliable and solid as his appearance.
“Now, I will commence the interview. Considering Clara’s trust in you, I will grant you a second chance.”
“Alright, then how about this—I’m here for the future of the underground.”
Svarog’s response was cold and unyielding.
“Worthless rhetoric. You are not of the underground and have no right to represent the people of the Lower District. State your purpose clearly, and do not waste the precious time this world has left.”
How would he respond to that?
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