Transformers: Survival of Defective Products

Chapter 8... Model Machine

First, the vector instrument checked the legitimate channels for machine body repair and replacement on the projection.

Before she could even read two pages, she was bombarded with questions about the eligibility requirements.

Registration records, health records, online information, past maintenance data... none of these can be missing. Not to mention, many organizations' official websites clearly state that they do not accept machines that are severely damaged, structurally abnormal, or have incomplete provenance records.

She had initially held onto a sliver of hope, but now it seemed as if a spark had been doused with a bucket of cold liquid.

When she scrolled down to the prices, she almost fell asleep on the spot.

An arm replacement would cost at least tens of thousands of dollars.

Are you kidding me?

She nearly died miserably in the arena, and her base fee was only three hundred Shanks.

Undeterred, she scrolled down to find even cheaper, more remotely located repair shops, some of which lacked official signage.

The reviews for those places were even more alarming than the prices.

"The outer armor fell off after only three days of use."

"If the skeletal structure isn't properly aligned, walking feels like the body is falling apart."

"They call it repair, but actually they just take usable parts and give them to other machines. We only found out the parts were missing when we got home."

She stared at the last line for several seconds, then subconsciously touched her arms and legs.

She didn't have many parts to begin with, so she couldn't afford to have a few more stolen.

She had to search for a long time to find these from a bunch of random positive reviews.

And she had only been looking at them for a short time when those comments disappeared one after another.

Vector screamed inwardly: Oh my god! Comment control! Absolute comment control!

She frowned and shut down each of the repair shops one by one.

Those who truly know how to fix things may not have a sign, and those who have a sign may not actually know how to fix things.

As she scrolled down, she began to subconsciously notice words that didn't seem to be directly answering questions, yet kept appearing repeatedly.

First, I searched for repair shops that were further away or small, privately-run repair shops.

After failing to find any useful information, she simply browsed forums, posts, and online chats.

Most of the conversations revolved around how the repairs turned out, or everyday complaints and grievances.

She spent a long time browsing various web pages, forums, and posts, reading at least hundreds of them, and finally discovered that some words appeared repeatedly, as if they were deliberately mixed in with everyday chatter.

"Old wing renovation", "Skeleton alignment", "Lower-level handicrafts", "No background checks", "Repair and dismantle available", "Only accept referrals from familiar sources", "Lab benches", "Side jobs for the Academy of Sciences"

The vector stared at those few sets of words for a few seconds, and the spark seemed to light up as well.

She vaguely felt that she had finally figured it out.

Just as she was about to continue her investigation, she heard Zhen Tianzun making noises downstairs. It seemed like he was packing something up? Was he about to go out?

She quickly went downstairs and peered out from the stairwell.

Are you going out?

The armor of the Heavenly Warrior had clearly undergone extra treatment today; the metal surface was brighter and colder than usual, and the edges and lines were so clean they were almost sharp.

In his left hand, he was carrying a shield, the outline of which resembled the kind used by gladiators in ancient Rome, only sharper and more Cybertronian in material and structure.

"right."

Zhen Tianzun didn't look up, but kept his head down checking the final preparations. Only after confirming everything was in order did he pick up his shield and walk towards the door.

"Where are you going? Can I come with you?"

Zhen Tianzun then looked up at her, "What are you doing?"

Vector, clinging to the top of the stairs, replied honestly, "I'm curious. Are you going to the arena?"

"right."

"Even if I don't understand it, I can still watch it. Besides, I need to know how Shanks makes money."

Zhen Tianzun stared at her for two seconds, as if trying to determine how serious she was about what she was saying.

Finally, he coldly tossed out a sentence: "If you want to come, stick close. Don't wander off, don't say anything out of line, and don't cause me any trouble."

"Understood." Yin Zongxiang's eyes lit up a little. "Finally, it's not me playing; I can sit in the stands and watch!"

Zhen Tianzun: "..."

When the two planes arrived at the arena, they went backstage first.

The vector followed behind, watching him warm up and prepare, and then watching the machines that were probably responsible for pre-match treatments give him the final oiling and exterior finishing touches.

This guy isn't actually a brute force brute.

She was staring at the newly applied, glossy coating on the edge of the Zhen Tianzun's back armor when she suddenly caught a glimpse of a machine standing not far away.

The silver and purple color scheme is accented with a touch of black.

The other party was unusually quiet.

The backstage area was bustling with activity and very noisy, but he seemed to be standing alone in another layer of air.

He glanced at the vector subconsciously.

Cold, sharp, quiet.

...type machine.

The other person seemed to have noticed her too. She couldn't see where the other person's glasses were, since the other person's face was just a screen of black and purple light.

The other person's gaze swept over her for a moment without lingering, but for some reason, she felt as if she had been completely memorized.

The next second, Zhen Tianzun's voice boomed from the front: "If you've seen enough, go to the audience seats. Don't block the way here."

"Okay, okay, I'll cheer you on." Yin Xiang found the way to the stands and quickly squeezed into them.

Because of her small size, she managed to squeeze to the front row little by little, and finally managed to stick her head out by clinging to the metal railing.

As soon as she poked her head out, a laughing voice came from above and behind her.

"Oh, such a tiny thing, daring to squeeze into the front row to watch the gladiatorial combat?"

As the vector turned around, it saw a machine with a meticulously maintained red, white, and black exterior making way for the others. Its tone was slightly teasing, but not malicious.

"Yes," she said honestly, "I want to see more clearly. Thank you. It's really crowded here."

The other person glanced at her up and down, their gaze lingering on her obviously not-so-good condition for half a second longer.

"You've got some nerve. Or rather, what unrealistic confidence do you have in the sturdiness of your armor?"

Vector thought for a moment: "No. But we're already here."

The duel began quickly, and the opponent was also a very burly gladiator named Spike. He also had a hammer-like device on his arm.

When Zhen Tianzun appeared, the audience erupted in cheers as if they had been injected with fake energy liquid, with shouts of his name echoing everywhere. She even heard the tech-savvy guy behind her whistle.

She cleared her throat and let out a loud howl, but the next second she felt a pain in her vocal cords.

Tsk, her machine is so lousy.

I don't know if it was just my imagination, but did Zhen Tianzun look over for a moment? Was there a hint of disdain in his eyes?