Chapter 77#

Gears of Fate 19#

Behind him, the mechanical hall continued slowly repositioning. Regular clicking sounds echoed, but Yu Feichen’s senses were gradually fading. Everything felt distant like a dream. Facing the high-backed chair with its back to him, he slowly blinked, trying to clear his vision.

—This closing of eyes never reopened.

Darkness overwhelmed him. He frowned slightly, took two more steps forward, then his consciousness suddenly shot away like a machine abruptly shutting down. Sounds grew distant. Touch was the last to fade—caught in someone’s embrace, soft hair brushing his neck.

When Yu Feichen awoke, opening his eyes revealed the metal panel of the upper bunk. He was on the lower bed. Lifting his eyes again, Anphiel was already leaning over.

“How do you feel?” Anphiel pressed his palm to Yu Feichen’s forehead and said, “Should I help you sit up?”

A boy this age should have a bright voice, and indeed he did. But because of Anphiel’s habitual—overly calm and gentle—tone, it often carried faint distance.

Yet the concern in his eyes was genuine.

Yu Feichen rose. Slowly recalling what happened before passing out, he said: “I’m fine now.”

Just like machinery recovering after recharging, he was completely normal now.

“I gave you half a cup of energy liquid left from dinner,” Anphiel propped a pillow behind him, then placed the blood-salt heart before him. Softly: “You were holding this when you passed out. I was worried you couldn’t wake, so I also fed it to you.”

Yu Feichen looked at that heart—this thing had originally been broken off a corner by Pope Ludwig to feed the holy son. Now it had another piece missing. One reason he hadn’t used it was believing Anphiel reliable enough to conserve his only item. He hadn’t expected this person to straightforwardly use it once for him.

Yu Feichen pressed his temples, hearing soft, fragmented voices. He lifted his head to look past Anphiel.

Vincent stood nearby, beside him Bai Song. Seeing him awake, Bai Song cheerfully waved: “Yu-ge, you’re awake!” Looking further was Chen Tong and Lillia among others. This small dormitory somehow held so many people. Yu Feichen’s gaze swept across everyone without lingering on anyone.

“You’re all here,” he glanced at the clock. Still early.

“We heard your little brother wailing,” Chen Tong gestured toward Bai Song. Bai Song admitted: “I came early to knock, didn’t expect you weren’t conscious, Yu-ge.”

“From now on, remember to eat on time,” Yu Feichen said. “I need to talk with Anphiel alone for a moment.”

Everyone obediently dispersed, even closing the door. The dormitory was again just the two of them.

Anphiel’s jacket hung on the chair back. He was still in bedtime attire—white silk undershirt, golden hair draped over shoulders, making his appearance look even more fragile and breakable.

“What do you want to say?” Anphiel looked at him, speaking softly. The young man’s eyes remained calm, but the act of asking first itself exposed a certain level of unease.

“Nothing,” Yu Feichen said. “Thanks for dinner.”

He paused, then: “You lost half a cup. Any problems?”

Anphiel blinked, seeming to think. After seconds he said: “A bit uncomfortable, but breakfast time is coming soon.”

Yu Feichen: “That’s good then.”

Anphiel walked a step closer to his bed. The shortened distance meant Yu Feichen had to slightly raise his head to meet his gaze.

“Why didn’t you use the lizard heart before?” The person’s delicate beautiful brows furrowed slightly, eyes showing displeasure, as if questioning.

Yu Feichen: “No power, brain malfunctioning.”

Anphiel: “Yet you still made it back here.”

Yu Feichen said: “I only remembered this place, felt like you’d leave dinner for me… thanks.”

Anphiel’s brows and eyes curved slightly in an obvious smile, perhaps responding to his “thanks.” Yu Feichen said: “Vision, hearing, touch lost in order… I couldn’t see by the time I entered. Motor ability was last to go, though that might be my special situation.”

Anphiel flatly: “I hope only you know this knowledge.”

This made Yu Feichen smile slightly.

“We should go out,” he said. “I need to get up too.”

Anphiel softly “mm’d,” turned toward the bathroom to wash. Yu Feichen watched the blurred figure behind the frosted glass, and the remnant smile slowly froze, finally disappearing completely.

He rose from the lower bunk, first seeing the mechanical rabbit on the desk. Taking it, he discovered the rabbit’s crooked leg was completely fixed. Yu Feichen stared silently at that leg, recalling the original cause of its crookedness—the dormitory’s toolbox had insufficient parts.

Through frosted glass, Anphiel’s light golden hair was faintly visible. Yu Feichen picked up a screwdriver and unscrewed the joints of the previously crooked left front leg with precision. With a click, the entire front leg dropped into the empty metal trash bin.

Then the entire rabbit was tossed in from above. The rabbit’s body collided with residual limbs at the bin’s bottom, producing a metallic chime. One red and one black crystalline eye looked up at him silently. Yu Feichen held their gaze for seconds, then retrieved Anphiel’s coat from the chair back and directly opened the bathroom door. Before the bathroom mirror, Anphiel was battling the small curls at his hair’s ends. After Yu Feichen took the comb and arranged them properly, he draped the cape-like coat over Anphiel’s shoulders.

Anphiel fastened the collar buttons while watching Yu Feichen diligently washing in the mirror. Only after Yu Feichen finished did his frost-green eyes soften noticeably.

After finishing, Yu Feichen lightly grasped Anphiel’s wrist and led him from the dormitory. Both coat and all items were brought. Throughout, Anphiel’s gaze never touched the desk or trash bin. Sometimes Yu Feichen wondered if this person had truly experienced countless dangerous dungeons. At least, he wouldn’t trust someone just because they spoke, regardless of who they were.

By the dining table, everyone waited. Still before breakfast time, Chen Tong immediately asked what he’d seen. Yu Feichen truthfully said nothing different from yesterday.

Vincent said nothing, unclear if he calmly accepted or had expected this. Chen Tong asked: “So what do we do?”

Bai Song actually performed well: “Then it seems everything we know is all the conditions. That should be enough to escape. We just haven’t found the key yet.”

“Correct,” Yu Feichen said flatly. “I have an idea.”

Multiple eager gazes immediately turned toward him. This situation was familiar to Yu Feichen—the characteristic expression of employers. He’d accumulated considerable experience through frequent complaints, knowing which phrasing best helped employers understand.

“You should know…” he thought for a moment, then: “Mainspring.”

It was a simple launching device. Some mechanical watches used mainspring winding—after winding several turns, the watch ran for a long time. Of course, he didn’t mean this world had “mainsprings.” Rather, perhaps this world had that kind of source device where pulling one thread moved the whole body.

Everyone seemed thoughtful for a moment, but time was limited. Yu Feichen could only explain further.

He briefly outlined his hypothesis about time, then said: “Our classroom experience in this fortress is a program the machinery set up. Many people came before, so this program runs in continuous loops. The loop condition might be completing one semester’s duration, or everyone’s death.”

Xue Xin and Bai Song’s faces first showed sudden realization.

Yu Feichen: “Currently, the only known connection between fortress and outside is the gate. First method: everyone destroys their badges. The fortress judges everyone dead and starts a new cycle. The gate opens welcoming newcomers. They come in, we go out.”

Before others spoke, Lingwei said: “Unwise.”

Chen Tong blurted out: “That’s a ripoff.”

It seemed no one agreed. Yu Feichen hadn’t planned using this anyway. He wanted to deconstruct.

“Second method.” He paused before explaining: “Spells only work at extremely short distance, can’t transmit across space. So machinery here still mutually transmits.”

“Pull one thread and the whole body moves. I understand,” Lingwei suddenly relaxed her brows. “So that’s it.”

Xue Xin stood up excitedly: “Mainspring!”

Even Chen Tong followed with a holler. Yu Feichen continued: “Following the transport trajectory of red-black crystals or white liquid drops, I can find the fortress’s most energy-consuming point. That’s the fortress’s power plant, connecting most mechanisms.”

“Then find the original core steam engine driving that torque gear! That’s the main control!” Xue Xin said. “Without electrical signals, steam machinery transmits one by one! So we only need to accelerate that core gear’s rotation, equivalent to winding the fortress’s clock faster! Triggering a new cycle! My god, I thought there’d be a main control, but didn’t think about time loops!”

His voice grew quieter: “But… would that bring new people in?”

“It would,” Yu Feichen said.

Bai Song’s eyes widened: “If we can speed up, we can slow down.”

“You’ve got skills,” Chen Tong heavily patted Bai Song’s shoulder, nearly flattening him three inches.

Xue Xin: “But energy consumption problems, and—”

“Screw it,” Chen Tong said. “We’ll figure out how to slow down. If you all have ideas, just call me to work.”

Xue Xin: “Technical issues—”

“Even in the most optimistic scenario, we’d need a sufficiently strong mechanical arm and…” Yu Feichen looked toward Anphiel. “Spell modification.”

Anphiel nodded: “I know what’s needed.”

Bai Song: “How do you… already know?”

Xue Xin looked dejected like a programmer overwhelmed by unreasonable demands: “The arm I can try. If materials are available it’d help. Thinking carefully, too many problems. This—”

Yu Feichen simply: “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Chen Tong chuckled: “I like that phrase.”

The next words were directed at Anphiel.

“You should have written spells for our badges to open any door.”

Anphiel’s eyes held smiling light: “You know?”

Yu Feichen: “Guessed.”

Then to everyone: “Anphiel and Jililigulung work on spells. If today’s task is simple, leave two or three people for homework. Xue Xin takes the rest to make some machinery per my requirements. Original materials—open all classroom doors to search. If it’s not simple, we’ll discuss then.”

Many words could comfort people, but “we’ll discuss then” was undoubtedly powerful—essentially converting a death sentence to a commuted one.

Then breakfast time arrived. Others hurriedly ate. But Yu Feichen only drank half a cup, having used the blood-salt heart, needing no further energy. So he saved his breakfast, pouring it into a sealed metal box and gave it to Bai Song to carry, just in case.

Then came the obligatory roller coaster. Getting off, the loudspeaker cheerfully announced:

“Students, meeting again! Please enter classroom 21 next to begin day five’s curriculum. Tip: This is super~difficult practical work class!”

Sure enough, curriculum difficulty reached “super difficult.” Even without intervention, they’d near the course’s end.

Unaware, five days had already passed in this world. Yu Feichen fed Anphiel some energy liquid. His condition improved considerably, though he still gripped Yu Feichen’s wrist. En route to classroom 21, they passed the spell lesson classroom with the spell readers. The specially modified badge indeed successfully unlocked the door. Yu Feichen sent Anphiel inside; Jililigulung followed him in.

“Be safe. If anything happens, find us,” Yu Feichen said to Anphiel at the door.

Anphiel nodded to him. Only after Yu Feichen turned to leave did Anphiel step back. The mechanical door automatically closed.

When the door shut, Bai Song suddenly laughed oddly.

Yu Feichen: “?”

“Yu-ge,” Bai Song said. “You were really nice to Anphiel-xiongdi today, truly. Did his careful attention after you passed out move you?”

Yu Feichen’s steps stopped.

“Was I?” he said flatly.

“Definitely. Yu-ge, this time you’re real.”

“I wasn’t good to him before?”

“Couldn’t be, Yu-ge. You were brushing him off before.”

“Brushing off?”

Bai Song said: “I feel like you finally counted Anphiel-xiongdi as your own person today. Yu-ge, you kept watching him. My god, Yu-ge can actually be this gentle.”

Yu Feichen found it funny.

Sometimes, even Bai Song’s convoluted thinking couldn’t reach reality. When he genuinely wanted to be nice to Anphiel, others called it superficial. Now, not thinking about it had become sincere.

Before him was an empty, cold corridor. Beside him stood a mechanical dummy with hollow eyes.

“I brought you to paradise but never taught you things,” his voice breaking the silence made Bai Song jump, because that tone wasn’t more alive than the dummy’s hollow gaze.

“One thing.” He said flatly. “Don’t listen to people who lie.”