Knowledge was priceless. In any region of the Astral Realm, the more advanced the knowledge, the harder it was to obtain.
Major powers would do everything they could to control sources of knowledge and use them as bait to recruit talent, but this undoubtedly made knowledge even harder to obtain.
Birmingham was a mecha master of exceptional aptitude and talent, well known in the field.
The Gonis City-State had extended an invitation to him more than once, but Birmingham had turned them all down. A lone wanderer, he longed for the unrestrained wind and the free-roaming clouds, to take the sky as his blanket and the earth as his bed, to travel across green mountains and clear waters, wander among the stars, and witness different ways of life.
He hated being bound by rules and only wanted to live out his life as he pleased.
Birmingham had originally planned to leave Brian City after spending half a year there.
More than five months had passed since he arrived, and he was preparing to pack his bags and set out again when a sudden piece of news disrupted his plans.
"The notes of a top-tier mechanics alchemist?" Birmingham's eyes gleamed faintly behind his bottle-bottom glasses. He was an alchemist too, specializing in mechanical mechas.
Mechanics was an incredibly vast and profound field of study.
It could be further divided into hundreds or thousands of research specialties.
For example, mechanics alchemists who specialized in long-range weaponry were skilled at making all manner of powerful guns and cannons, including concentrated ion cannons, death ray cannons, and planet-destroying cannons.
There were also mechanics alchemists who specialized in mechanical augmentation technology. They believed that the flesh was weak and that machinery was the path to ascension. Their ultimate goal was to break free of the body's constraints, digitize their souls and consciousness, and even ignite a mechanical spark to become mechanical lifeforms.
Logo, on the other hand, was the type who wanted it all.
Energy guns and cannons, flying vehicles, armed mechas... all of them fell within his scope of research. He turned none away.
According to the brief description in the announcement, a considerable portion of the top-tier mechanics alchemist's notes concerned mechas.
Birmingham's progress in mechanics had been at a bottleneck for a long time, and he urgently needed guidance from this sort of advanced knowledge. What was more, the announcement mentioned no additional conditions; it seemed that having enough money was all it took, which suited him perfectly. He promptly picked up his communicator and contacted Logo.
In the hotel room, the communicator in Logo's hand vibrated incessantly. Messages came in like falling snow, and the calls were practically blowing up his phone.
Logo, however, remained unhurried. He tossed the communicator aside, picked up the King-Hunting Chess set on the table, and looked at Crassus.
"Care for a game?"
"Hm?" Crassus leaped over, narrowed his eyes, and said, "How dare a lowly wretch challenge me? Just wait until I strike you from your horse!"
The man and cat took their places on opposite sides of the board like a coiled dragon and a crouching tiger, both brimming with fighting spirit. They commanded their opposing armies in a grand, fierce battle, neither able to gain the upper hand.
In the end, however, Crassus was defeated.
Logo smiled disdainfully. "Hah, you were nothing but a man who offered up his head for sale, a pile of dry bones in a grave!"
"Argh, I'm so mad!" Crassus rolled around on the bed and decided to skip lunch, endure hardship, and practice his chess!
The communicator gradually vibrated less often. Logo picked it up and began carefully choosing based on what he knew.
Olatu, holder of a senior title in the Mecha Guild, mechanics level between 25 and 27, specialized in light powered armor... a definite pass!
Yalide, holder of a senior title in the Mecha Guild and a specially appointed consultant to the Gonis City-State Academy of Sciences, mechanics level between 26 and 28, specialized in heavy single-operator mecha research... Hmm, he could stay on the list for now!
Duoguoli, from the Seven Magitech Nations, senior alchemist, mechanics level around 29, deeply accomplished in runology, proficient in basic runes, with some mastery of advanced runes, specialized in creating magitech mecha constructs... This one was good. If there were no better choices later, he would pick him!
Logo was like a young lord strolling into a pleasure district, flaunting a fistful of cash as he went.
A crowd of dolled-up fallen girls flocked to him like butterflies, competing with one another to display their charms and leaving him free to choose as he pleased.
"Huh? This person..."
Logo's scrolling finger paused. Birmingham's brief profile was displayed on the communicator screen.
Birmingham Steinode, a member of the Corsican Race and one of the Planet Naike People, was an outstanding mechanics alchemist. He had pursued advanced studies at the Mistado Alchemy Academy on Planet Guta, where he had excelled. He had made over a hundred three-star mechas, two of which had reached legendary quality. He was a true master in the field of mechas...
Excellent, he was the one!
Logo promptly chose Birmingham!
Creating a legendary-quality mecha required not only a sufficiently deep mastery of mechanics, but, more importantly, an indefinable sort of "inspiration." If it had to be explained, perhaps it could be understood as a wild, unfettered imagination and the occasional stroke of genius.
The vast majority of alchemists could only follow instructions by the book; dullness and rigidity were the norm. This was precisely the clear dividing line between genius and mediocrity.
It was no wonder a saying circulated in the Astral Realm.
Disorder and chaos were the fertile soil in which geniuses and madmen were born!
The flower of inspiration would bloom only on free soil!
Bright, soft white light poured down from the ceiling as Logo followed Birmingham into the alchemy workshop he had rented for the time being.
The Corsican Race was humanoid. Its members were generally short, with four arms, rough brownish-yellow skin, and thick, dark brown hair. Their average intelligence was relatively high, but their eyes were rather fragile and especially prone to nearsightedness. Very few Corsicans made it to the age of five without becoming nearsighted.
Birmingham was extremely nearsighted and wore thick bottle-bottom glasses, but his eyes were exceptionally bright. Even hidden behind his lenses and messy hair, they still shone brilliantly.
"Sit anywhere. Would you like something to drink?" Birmingham asked. His voice was very rough, like the rasp of graphite being dragged across a surface.
"Black tea, please!" Logo said. He wandered around, looking over the room.
It was clean and tidy, with all sorts of equipment arranged in perfect order, a sharp contrast to Birmingham's rough, unkempt appearance.
"There's a problem with the hydraulic pump on this forging press, isn't there?" Logo asked, pointing at a piece of machinery.
Although he phrased it as a question, his tone was utterly certain.
Carrying the tea, Birmingham looked surprised. "You're a mechanic too?"
He had bought the parts and assembled and calibrated the machine himself. Its internal structure was extremely intricate, and the damaged hydraulic pump had caused a slight tilt on one side. It was only a minor detail that an ordinary mechanic would never have noticed, yet this young man of the Three-Eyed Race had spotted the problem at a glance. (Outsiders were accustomed to calling the Gendaya People the Three-Eyed Race.)
His eye for detail alone was enough to make Birmingham see him in a new light.
Logo took the teacup and smiled. "You could say that. I'm currently specializing in mechanics!"
"Oh..."
Birmingham looked thoughtful but did not press him for details.
"Was the announcement you posted at the guild real?"
"Of course. I brought the notes with me." Logo took a bound paper book from his backpack. It was a full three fingers thick.
"Not the original?"
"I'm keeping the original for my collection."
"Understandable." Birmingham's expression showed that he felt the same way. He too liked collecting original alchemical texts of all kinds.
"You have ten seconds!" Logo tossed him the notes.
Birmingham caught them, held his teacup in one hand and the notes in two others, and flipped through the pages with his fourth, quickly skimming them.
His spirit attribute had reached 57 points, and he had an exceptional memory, but the formulas and complex diagrams in the notes were dazzling. He could only get a basic idea of their contents.
But that was enough. When the ten seconds were up, Logo took back the notes. Birmingham watched them longingly, then struck the pose of a rich bastard. "Name your price!"
With that, Birmingham picked up his teacup and took a sip of strong tea, looking quite nonchalant.
Logo raised an eyebrow and asked tentatively, "A hundred million Ta Pounds?"
"Pfft!"