Fantasy Game: Infinite City

Han Zu's voice was deep and calm, barely echoing in the empty corridor before being swallowed by the surrounding silence. The little mouse on his head seemed startled by the sudden sound, its head slightly raised, its bright black eyes looking at the massive archway. Its nose twitched slightly, as if sniffing for an unfamiliar scent wafting from behind the archway. Han Zu didn't hesitate any longer. He tightened his grip on the little mouse and stepped over the threshold of the archway.

The moment they stepped through the door, a gust of wind carrying a mixture of the smell of rust and warmth hit them, a stark contrast to the dry air in the corridor. The little mouse instinctively shrank its neck, its claws gripping tighter, while Han Zu's pupils contracted slightly—before him lay an unimaginably vast space, far exceeding any area they had explored before. It stretched as far as the eye could see, like the interior of a giant, hollowed-out mountain range, or perhaps an independent, otherworldly dimension.

The top of the space was shrouded in a thick, dark red mist, which swirled slowly like a living thing. Occasionally, silvery-white rays of light would pierce through the mist's depths, casting dappled shadows on the ground. What supported this space was not rock or skeletal tissue, but gigantic pillars of flesh, each tens of meters in diameter. The surfaces of these pillars were covered with blood vessels the size of bowls, within which dark red liquid surged and flowed, making a "whooshing" sound. Each pulse caused the entire space to tremble slightly, as if this area itself were a colossal living organism.

Han Zu's gaze swept quickly across his surroundings, his attention instantly drawn to the peculiar structures that permeated the space. There were no walls in the traditional sense, nor any metal-cast machinery. Instead, there were numerous production lines and processing plants entirely composed of flesh and bones. They were scattered throughout the space like lurking behemoths, extending into the misty distance. A rough estimate suggested that there were no fewer than a hundred production lines visible to the naked eye, each separated by a translucent membrane of flesh, both independent and interconnected. These fleshy structures vary greatly in form, far exceeding conventional understanding: some resemble giant pythons winding for tens of kilometers, their robust bodies naturally divided into regular chambers, each containing a different stage of embryonic creation. Fine nerve tendrils extend from the chamber walls, like a doctor's probe monitoring the embryo's status in real time; others resemble the outstretched wings of a giant bat, their surfaces covered with pinpoint-sized holes from which tiny bone powder is constantly ejected. This bone powder solidifies upon encountering wind in mid-air, forming a delicate skeletal framework; still others exhibit a spiraling DNA double helix structure, with the skeletal framework supporting the constantly writhing fleshy layers. Dark red liquid flows rapidly in a channel at the center of the spiral, and with each rotation, a drop of concentrated energy liquid drips from the end of the channel, precisely landing on the creation below.

The most striking feature is a gigantic production line stretching north to south through the space, conservatively estimated to be over ten kilometers long. Its main structure is composed of hundreds of massive vertebrae strung together, each over ten meters thick, covered in a thick layer of keratin. The vertebrae are connected by strong, silvery-white tendons, as thick as an adult's arm, resembling steel cables forged through countless hammer blows. Each slow contraction propels the entire conveyor system forward half a meter, the vertebrae rubbing against each other with a dull, grating sound, like the movement of ancient behemoths. The conveyor belt is covered with a moist, pale yellow membrane, beneath which are numerous capillaries that constantly secrete a transparent, lubricating, and nourishing fluid. This fluid forms a thin film of water on the conveyor belt, allowing the objects placed upon it to move smoothly. The mucous membrane is neatly arranged with translucent fleshy sacs, each about half a meter in diameter and oval in shape. The sac walls are composed of multiple layers of elastic fibers and are filled with pale yellow nutrient fluid. Each sac is slightly wriggling with the flow of nutrient fluid, and the vague outline of creation can be vaguely seen inside.

On either side of the conveyor belt stood fleshy supports tens of meters high, covered with tens of thousands of tentacle-like tissues. These tentacles varied in length, the shortest being only a few tens of centimeters and the longest exceeding ten meters. At their tips were various "tools"—some were scissor-like bone blades, their edges gleaming with a cold, silvery light, capable of precisely cutting fleshy tissue without damaging its internal structure; others were tweezer-like slender bone claws, their tips covered with fine barbs, capable of firmly grasping nerve fibers thinner than a hair; still others had circular secretory pores at their tips, constantly secreting a viscous, transparent liquid that would solidify rapidly within three seconds of contact with air, forming a protective membrane that combined toughness and hardness. At the starting point of the production line, Han Zu saw a "raw material processing chamber" wrapped by dozens of giant tentacles. The chamber was made of thick muscle tissue, and the sound of "grinding" could be heard from inside. Damaged flesh and bones were thrown into the chamber by the tentacles. After being squeezed and ground by the internal muscles, they were transformed into uniform dark red flesh clumps. Then, they were transported by special conveyor tentacles to the flesh sacs on the conveyor belt, waiting for the next step of processing.

Han Zu stopped and quietly observed the operation of one of the production lines for nearly half an hour, taking in the entire process of all ten workstations. He saw a tentacle with suction cups place a standardized mass of dark red flesh into a fleshy sac on the conveyor belt. As soon as the fleshy mass entered the sac, nerve tendrils on the sac wall immediately stretched out, scanning the surface of the fleshy mass like a scanner, while transmitting a set of data to the "control node" next to the production line—a spherical structure made of brain tissue and nerve fibers, its surface covered with flashing light spots. The changes in the brightness of the light spots seemed to be adjusting the parameters of the subsequent processes.

Immediately afterward, a tentacle with bone claws precisely retrieved a shimmering energy crystal from the adjacent "crystal storage chamber." The crystal, only the size of a thumb, was rhomboid in shape and emitted stable energy fluctuations. The bone claws carefully embedded the crystal into the center of the flesh mass, the entire process flawless, as if rehearsed countless times. Then, the teleportation structure slowly moved, delivering the flesh mass to the next station. Here, the tentacles, tipped with fan-shaped applicators, evenly spread a transparent liquid onto the surface of the flesh mass. Once the liquid covered the mass, a thin protective film immediately formed, upon which fine patterns began to emerge. These patterns echoed the outlines of the creatures within the flesh mass, like drawing a "growth blueprint."

As the fleshy sac continued its forward movement, passing through an area enveloped in a silvery-white light—the light emanating from dozens of suspended crystal spheres above—the sac's light carried intense shaping energy. Upon entering, the fleshy mass within began to rapidly shape at a visible speed, its initially blurry outline gradually becoming clearer: first, a rough humanoid framework formed, then limbs began to differentiate, the torso became fuller, and even the faint muscle texture beneath the skin could be seen. Han Zu noticed that during the shaping process, the fleshy sac automatically adjusted its size and shape according to the creation's form. When the creation's limbs extended, the fleshy sac would lengthen accordingly; when the creation's torso expanded, the fleshy sac would bulge outwards, like a self-adaptive mold. After passing through the shaping station, the flesh sac sequentially goes through several stations, including "nerve implantation," "sensory generation," and "energy adjustment." Each station has specialized tentacles and tools working in concert. For example, at the nerve implantation station, delicate bone needles precisely implant nerve fibers into the creation, connecting them to energy crystals. At the sensory generation station, tentacles shape the prototypes of organs such as eyes and noses on the creation's head. At the energy adjustment station, a set of glowing tentacles surrounds the flesh sac, checking the smooth flow of internal energy. When the flesh sac reaches the last station on the production line, the protective membrane automatically ruptures, and a complete humanoid creature is born from it. This creature is about two meters tall, with light red skin and smooth muscle lines. Although its facial features are simple, it already possesses basic sensory functions. After landing, it immediately stands upright and moves along a specialized flesh track to a designated area, lining up neatly with other newly created creatures, awaiting further instructions.

The little mouse was completely captivated by the scene before it. It poked its head out from above Han Zu's head, turning its little head from side to side, its bright black eyes full of curiosity. When it saw the fleshy sac burst open on the conveyor belt and the creature emerge, it excitedly waved its little paws, making soft "squeak" sounds, seemingly marveling at this magical process. Han Zu did not respond. His gaze continued to move, landing on a "flesh furnace" not far away. This furnace was much larger than the production line he had seen before, exceeding a hundred meters in height, like a small mountain made of flesh and blood. Its main structure consisted of layers upon layers of muscle tissue, with thick cartilage interspersed between the muscles, serving a supporting and insulating function. The outer layer of the furnace was covered with a layer of black keratin, which was covered with cracks. Dark red heat emanated from the cracks, making the surrounding air scorching hot. The furnace wall has three different internal structures: the outermost layer is an insulation layer, composed of fatty tissue and air bubbles, which can effectively reduce heat loss; the middle layer is a heating layer, which contains countless tiny heating elements, which are converted from highly concentrated energy crystals and continuously release high temperatures; the innermost layer is a reaction layer, composed of special heat-resistant muscle fibers, which can withstand temperatures of thousands of degrees without damage.

Inside the furnace, a bubbling, dark red slurry churned, its surface dotted with tiny bone fragments. Occasionally, enormous bubbles rose from the bottom, bursting and splashing out small amounts of slurry that landed on the reaction layer of the furnace walls and were instantly absorbed. At the top of the furnace was a massive opening, approximately twenty meters in diameter, surrounded by dozens of giant tentacles. These tentacles continuously fed in fragmented flesh, discarded bones, and energy crystal remnants collected from various areas. Each time materials were added, a violent "boiling" sound echoed within the furnace, and the slurry's color deepened. At the bottom of the furnace were dozens of pipes of varying diameters, constructed of calcified bone with smooth inner walls and an outer layer of insulating fatty tissue. The pipes extended to different production lines, precisely delivering the molten slurry to where it was needed. At the pipe junction, Han Zu discovered a "diversion node," a spherical structure composed of nerve tissue and muscle, containing multiple adjustable valves. These valves control the flow rate and concentration of the slurry according to the needs of different production lines. When a production line requires a high-concentration slurry, the valves automatically contract to filter out impurities; when a large amount of base slurry is needed, the valves fully open to accelerate the flow. On the side of the furnace, Han Zu also found an "energy recovery device," composed of a set of spiral nerve fibers. This device absorbs excess heat and energy emitted by the furnace, converting it into electrical energy usable by the production lines. This electrical energy is transmitted through tiny nerve circuits to each workstation, powering the operation of the tentacles and the luminescence of the crystal spheres.

Beside the furnace, piles of raw materials awaited input. These materials were categorized and stacked on different flesh-and-blood "trays," woven from resilient tendons and fitted with "rollers" of muscle and bone at the bottom. When a certain amount of material accumulated, the trays automatically moved towards the furnace. Upon reaching the opening, the muscles at the edges of the trays contracted, pouring the material into the furnace. The entire process was fully automated. Although there were no technologically advanced facilities, the flesh and bones seemed more precise than any of the most advanced technology Han Zu had ever seen. He even once thought that even the contractors' technologically advanced production lines might not necessarily produce anything more precise than what was made from this flesh and blood. (To some extent)

Beside the furnace, another completely different structure was operating efficiently: a production line specifically for manufacturing "repair minions." Its main body was a sophisticated structure composed of countless tiny skeletons, its overall shape resembling a honeycomb magnified tens of thousands of times. Each "cell" of the honeycomb was an independent incubation chamber, about thirty centimeters in diameter, with walls made of translucent cartilage and filled with a milky-white nutrient solution. Within each cell curled up a small, developing mechanical organism—a bone beetle. These bone beetles were entirely composed of white skeletons, with streamlined, extremely hard shells. Resembling beetles with multiple mechanical arms, they were about twenty centimeters long, with two rotating sensory tentacles on their heads. They lacked prominent eyes and mouths, and their abdomens contained small energy storage sacs. Tiny muscle fibers connected to their joints provided the bone beetles with flexible movement.