Standoff

Every so often, a clatter rang through the spacious warehouse. At the end of the shelves stood a two- or three-story-tall mecha, its black covering tossed aside. Wrenches and tool buckets lay scattered across the floor. A tall young man sat cross-legged on the mecha’s shoulder, wearing work pants that hardly showed dirt and a tight white T-shirt.

The young man’s fair face and clothes were smeared with machine oil. Fortunately, his long hair was tied back and had escaped the mess. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, looking just like a calico cat, and kept tinkering with the contraption in his hands, completely oblivious.

Mu Chen looked quite different from when he’d first arrived.

He’d once been a pampered little prince raised in the palace. Now, with a cap pulled low over his face, he could easily pass for a street kid.

Mu Chen pulled a welding mask over his head. A burst of sparks flew up.

From what he could tell, someone had repaired the damage this mecha had sustained back then. It couldn’t start now only because it had been sitting for so long that some of its circuits had developed problems.

So, during this time, he had been checking every circuit on “Old Booker” one by one...

“Beep beep!”

Just then, the terminal beside him chimed with a message notification.

Mu Chen paused, took off his mask, wiped his hands with a rag, and checked his terminal...