Factory

After clearing the minor obstacles, the convoy proceeded smoothly and soon arrived at a factory on the outskirts of the city.

This factory occupied an area of two thousand mu, housing three massive production halls and an office building, with an actual floor area exceeding one million square meters. Here, Manohar would build the planned virtual world under the guise of a new large-scale production line.

The open space outside the factory was piled with rusted soda cans, remnants left behind by ordinary workers who had toiled day and night when the original production lines were still operational over a decade ago.

Later, with the explosion of artificial intelligence technology, pharmaceutical production lines requiring precision handling became fully automated. Today, only a small number of highly educated technicians remained to maintain the factory, and almost no traces of the original laborers survived.

However, following Manohar's orders, the high-level officials controlling this emerging city immediately swung into action. Corporate executives quickly mobilized the list of required equipment, city officials promptly approved the factory renovation application, and several construction firms scrambled to secure the renovation contracts.

A massive number of trucks loaded with new equipment arrived from all directions, and hundreds of workers returned to this long-quiet, gargantuan factory.

Hailing from several large local construction companies, they had received emergency orders to suspend all current work. Within half an hour, they had arrived at the suburban factory, equipped with the best engineering tools, under instructions to complete the renovation as quickly as possible.

Stepping out of his armored vehicle, Manohar nodded with satisfaction as he surveyed the bustling scene. Although he was powerless before Seagull, everyone else in this city still had to act with full force at his command; this was the power of authority.

Several executives in suits, seeing Manohar's bright, sun-glinting bald head from afar, didn't even bother to urge their workers on. Shedding the high-and-mighty demeanor they usually displayed before their subordinates, they hurried toward the armored vehicle to greet the big shot.

The leader, a man wearing sunglasses, approached Manohar and reported proactively, "Upon receiving your request this morning, we immediately coordinated the reserve equipment from all departments. We have already mobilized fifty percent of the total, and the remaining equipment is expected to arrive by tonight."

Several other men from the construction firms also stepped forward to hand over their business cards and introduce themselves. Manohar rarely appeared in person anymore; most of the time, he controlled this vast city from his home through his exclusive artificial intelligence, which meant that many of the new elite who had risen in the last decade had no way to approach this titan.

This new large-scale production line was a golden opportunity. Manohar's plan had extremely high requirements and a very tight timeline, necessitating the mobilization of resources from many major corporations to succeed.

They seized this chance immediately. The bid for this order was practically at a loss; as long as they could establish a connection with this big shot, the lost funds would be repaid a hundred or a thousand times over in the future.

Manohar shook hands with each of them cordially, casually tossing out business intelligence he personally deemed trivial but profitable. The men nodded in ecstatic agreement; with news from this big shot, their enterprises could take a massive leap forward.

More importantly, having established a connection with this man, they could become members of the city's highest circle. Many business dealings that previously required massive resources to grease the wheels would now be smooth sailing, saving them vast amounts of time and money spent dealing with officials.

After a period of exchange, Manohar suddenly ceased the conversation and said to the men, "This large-scale production line is a preparation for a new company product. The interior must remain confidential for the time being, so I will be taking charge of these workers for the next year."

The men were not surprised by this request. Most of the workers they had brought were responsible for modifying the internal production lines, totaling only about a thousand people—less than one percent of their total workforce—which had almost no impact on them.

Whatever this big shot was doing had nothing to do with them. They only needed this opportunity to enter the top circle; a few insignificant employees were of no consequence.

One of them immediately stated, "Of course. I will have their lead managers coordinate with your team. Everything will proceed according to your will."

The others nodded in agreement. The affiliation of nearly a thousand workers was transferred in the span of a short conversation; from today on, they were Manohar's employees.

With the deal struck, Manohar stopped speaking, tilting his head as if listening to something. Seeing that the big shot was no longer paying attention to them, the men understood and left the factory in their cars. They had achieved their goal, and the rest was not for outsiders to know.

Once the outsiders had left, the man in sunglasses approached the bald man. He was Manohar's college classmate from many years ago and a partner who had helped found the Manohar company, holding a position in the firm second only to him.

Since the rise of artificial intelligence, Manohar, as the big boss, had gradually retreated behind the scenes, leaving him to become the company's public face. He handled most social occasions and press conferences, to the point where the new generation had gradually forgotten Manohar.

This time, everyone else in the company believed Manohar truly wanted to build a new large-scale production line to manufacture new drugs, but only the man in sunglasses knew that was impossible.

Just a week ago, Manohar had discussed the company's future direction with him.

At that time, he had said that the generic drug market was saturated and that he planned to leverage his relationships with foreign companies to enter the artificial intelligence field, investing resources into the production of smart medical devices to provide cheaper local products for large hospitals.

The man in sunglasses walked up to Manohar and whispered, "What is actually going on? Such a sudden, massive move—this doesn't fit your usual steady style of operation."

Claiming that producing new drugs required strict confidentiality while hurriedly using untrusted workers from other companies defied all logic, as if something were forcing his hand.

Manohar had finished listening to Seema's report through his earpiece. He wiped his head, which was shining in the sun, and said to the brother who had struggled alongside him for over twenty years:

"I'm not sure what it is. It could be a super biological weapon from the Hong Alliance or the Commercial Alliance, or perhaps an alien from outside Earth. The only thing I am certain of is that in front of that monster, I am more helpless than a child in the slums."

The man in sunglasses, who had been wearing a serious expression, looked up at the bald man in confusion. He was speaking in a tone of terror about something that sounded like an urban legend; if not for their years of working together, he would have suspected the guy had drunk tainted liquor last night.

Seeing his old friend's expression, Manohar gave a helpless, bitter smile. He had later searched all surveillance records with a desperate hope, but unfortunately, the Seagull was nowhere to be seen in any of the footage.

Besides him, only the two maids from last night had seen the Seagull, but when the monster left, it had told them to stay in their rooms and not see anyone. Now, he dared not defy the monster's will.

Manohar said, "Seema, arrange for the first security team to complete the defensive perimeter. Also, notify the drone unit and the second team's heavy artillery to arrive here by six o'clock tonight to complete the defense."

Seema's instructions were quickly transmitted to various locations. The dozen armored vehicles not far behind Manohar began to move, having received their respective defensive assignments.

The man in sunglasses felt even more bewildered. This was nearly one-third of Manohar's total force. The second team's heavy artillery included tanks and self-propelled guns, and combined with the drone units purchased from the Hong Alliance, even the local thousand-man regular army did not possess such formidable firepower.

Manohar did not explain to his friend, instead pulling him toward the factory. Since that monster had said it would handle the fallout, he no longer needed to be overly cautious.

If the Seagull failed to handle it and others discovered his actions, that would be even better for him. It would mean the monster wasn't as terrifying as he thought, and he might still have a chance to break free from its clutches.

They walked quickly past the trucks loaded with precision equipment and the workers moving cargo, who were still unaware that they had been sold by their boss and would have to stay in this massive factory for the next year.

The two went straight to the only office building inside the factory. Half of this fifteen-story building was living quarters for the high-tech personnel who had originally maintained the production lines; they would continue to live there, though their work would change to maintaining the new equipment.

Passing through the bustling lobby on the first floor, Manohar and the man in sunglasses took the elevator to the top floor and entered the largest office. The previously empty room had been furnished, and in the center sat several imported, state-of-the-art medical diagnostic devices.

Manohar lay down on one of them and said to the still-dazed man in sunglasses, "That monster said it put something inside my heart. Now, let me see what it is. Seema, begin."

The latest precision medical imaging equipment began to operate under the control of the artificial intelligence. Contrary to Manohar's expectations, the object was not difficult to find; within moments, the image revealed a small, abnormal substance in his heart, which appeared as a blue projection before the two men.

It was a strip-like creature about 5 millimeters long, with short legs like a caterpillar. It was firmly attached to the outside of the artery above his heart, its plump body swaying slightly with each heartbeat.

Manohar asked excitedly, "Seema, now that we've found it, we can remove it, right?"

"Of course—not."

The first half of the sentence was in the little girl's voice, but the second half shifted into the voice of the Seagull from last night.

The straps on both sides suddenly ejected, pinning Manohar to the bed. The smile on his face froze instantly; it was that hateful voice from his nightmare again.

"Humans are always so conceited. Big bald head, this is just a warning. I have been watching you. Next time, you won't have a chance."

The next moment, the little girl's voice returned, continuing to explain how to remove the foreign object with a simple surgery, but Manohar was no longer in the mood to listen.

The other party possessed technology beyond imagination, and the expensive, state-of-the-art artificial intelligence he had purchased was merely a toy in its hands. Perhaps the monster could remotely control the foreign object in his heart at any time. Before it, all struggle was futile.