Chapter 739: Chapter 511: I Want to Make It Move_2

The success rate of True Activation, according to statistics, is even lower than this.

However...

The Angry Iron Plate is different.

From the start, Source Stone has been its important component.

Even before its encounter with Lin Guang, the core of the Angry Iron Plate had shown some semblance of what could be called its own will.

Compared to regular mechanical Spiritual Artifacts, it has always appeared more active.

But where does the will within this core truly originate?

Perhaps it was the Special Ability acquired after traversing the Blue Star, or maybe Zumama unconsciously used some techniques she herself did not fully understand.

Yet even if it was something crafted by Zumama’s own hands, this will must have a source, just like her persistent desire to participate in the Mechanical Spirit Cup, even though she knows she has little chance of winning.

"..."

Actually... the reason is simple.

She suddenly lowered her head and looked at the top of the control lever—the very incongruous bolt was still there.

This is not a Spiritual Material and could even rust without special anti-rust treatment, yet she still installed it on the most crucial sensor within the Angry Iron Plate’s cockpit.

Because it is the only thing she brought from Terra World.

Over a decade ago.

It was a rare sunny and dry morning in the rainforests of Sargon.

The young Zumama looked at the blue sky and threw a question to her friend beside her, one that had troubled her for three days: "Hey, Javier, Grandpa Zuruzaak said that’s a moving city, but what exactly is it?"

At the horizon’s end, a colossal construct could be faintly seen.

A gigantic creation moving slowly across the horizon, like a deity.

She had never felt this confused before, even when mushrooms she had never seen grew on trees, they only perplexed Zumama for a day and a half.

The friend named Javier couldn’t provide an answer.

So, Zumama could only sit up, bored, gazing at that moving city whose outline was still visible.

For some reason, an indescribable urge compelled her to get up and step towards it.

She ran and ran.

The ground beneath her feet changed from the soft grassland within the rainforest to the gravel shore that hurt her feet.

The sun overhead shifted from the warm morning light to a scorching sun baking the earth.

The girl’s mouth was dry, her lungs felt like they were on fire, and her calves ached as if they were about to lose sensation.

But she didn’t stop.

Because that giant silhouette moving on the horizon remained there.

It was the most grand and towering existence she had ever seen.

It appeared so close, as if by just trying a little harder, running a bit longer, she could catch up and touch that cold, towering steel body.

However, the distance the eyes can span is far greater than legs, and how could a child’s steps catch up with a moving machine?

Until dusk fell on the wilderness outside the rainforest, tinting everything orange, and she could run no more, collapsing in defeat on the wilderness.

"Ah?!"

Something poked her tailbone.

Zumama reached down and pulled out an object from beneath her.

It was a bolt.

In retrospect, this little thing might not have fallen from the moving city at all but was something left behind by a careless traveler or dropped from somewhere else.

It held no value.

Yet on that day, Zumama simply liked it very much.

She grasped the bolt in her tiny hand, as if trying to transfer her body heat into the cold metal.

She wanted to perceive its journey, its emotions, everything about it.

But...

The bolt would not speak, nor move.

It was just a component, not a mechanical item.

So, from that day on, Zumama began collecting scrap metal and odd components, tirelessly combining them.

Starting with using string to tie them, then using resin and glue to stick them... until she heard about metal welding from a passing merchant caravan.

And finally, one day, a peculiar little creation was born from Zumama’s hands.

It was yellow and black, resembling a crude tin man with uneven limbs, even slightly ugly.

But Zumama wasn’t dissatisfied at all; instead, she gave it what she considered the coolest name and cradled it in her palms, returning alone to the place where she once saw the moving city.

The moving city was long gone, but Zumama always felt she could sense the vibrations caused by its journey.

And then...

Zumama inexplicably fell into a space rift and arrived in this world.

The yellow-black tin man in her hands inexplicably fell apart, but at least the original bolt remained.

The steel jungle before her was so unfamiliar, so exaggerated.

Zumama should have felt sorrow and fear until she saw a little speaking cleaning vehicle and became inexplicably excited, rushing forward and saying many things.

She even wanted to show it the yellow-black tin man she had made, only to find when she took it out, only the original bolt remained.

Zumama suddenly felt crestfallen and lost for words.

However, the little vehicle stared at the bolt intently, its green eyes blinking, as if it could see the effort Zumama had poured into it.