Starting as a Mechanical Hunter

Mr. D, the first combat-model robot in the history of the Bionic Man, and a level 50+ boss monster, with powerful strength and influence.

However, the electronic defense in his brain was his weakness, and coupled with the fact that he was facing a super hacker on the verge of completion, he was unluckily hacked.

Nevertheless, although his brain was damaged, Mr. D’s shell remained intact, a Pure White Shell, the highest level of the Bionic Man’s casing, with the hardness to withstand direct missile strikes, and unless directly hit by a small nuclear bomb, heat, high radiation, and high shockwaves could not harm him.

No one knows what method Black Rose used to cut off his head.

Wearing a sister-in-law style windbreaker, emphasizing her curvaceous figure, Sister Rose lifted the head and placed the opponent’s eyeball onto a detection device. The detection light flashed, and simultaneously, four mechanical keys started turning automatically.

Soon, the confidential box opened, revealing four humanoid bionic parts: a finger, a small leg, half a palm, and a large arm. They seemed old, and each bionic part had a slightly yellowed surface, showing signs of age.

Sister Rose waved her hand, and the secretary bowed and left; the pneumatic door slowly closed.

When only she remained in the room, Sister Rose unflinchingly gently unscrewed her left index finger, placing it on the table, then picked up the yellowed finger and attached it to the seamless incision. Dozens of circuits lit up simultaneously, and the freshly attached index finger regained sensation. Meanwhile, she slowly slipped off a black stocking from a leg, revealing a white, plump calf, and then gently twisted off a section of calf, exposing a small nuclear-powered knee joint...

As Sister Rose operated, the entire hundreds-floor building was affected, with layers of bionic employees frozen in place. At the same time, the atmosphere around Sister Rose changed, with countless bionic people walking out from the darkness in circles, densely packed, endless, with more and more eyes staring intently at her.

This domineering female president showed no change in expression as she continued replacing her shell. The super beauty continuously swapped bodies, appearing both horrifying and enticing.

Even more peculiar, the replaced ’body parts’ changed color quickly and even adjusted shapes slightly, looking identical to the original.

”After I took control of the Electronic Grid, I discovered a secret known only to the bionic upper echelon: the Bionic Corporation has no Corporate Will.”

”Do bionics dream of electronic sheep? It seems not.”

”Because bionics do not possess a Collective Will; their will is just the will of one person, the earliest bionically modified subject.”

”For example, the three oldest bionics.”

Finally, a ’bionic’ angrily spoke:

”You aren’t even of our race; you’re just a hypocritical usurper who has stolen Authority that doesn’t belong to you.”

Another ’female bionic’ spoke with disdain:

”I can smell the stink of biology on you; only a bionic is the perfect partner.”

Another ’youthful bionic’ waved his hands excitedly:

”You don’t even care about the heritage and survival of our race!”

One bionic spoke, then a hundred bionics, then a million, all speaking simultaneously.

Their words seemed to possess magic power, causing Black Rose’s entire bionic components to start trembling, like a puppet manipulated by Silk Thread, performing a bizarre ballet.

Finally, the strange dance reached its finale; at the climax, ’crack,’ ’crack,’ countless cracks emerged on Black Rose’s skin, and then the entire shell shattered, scattering everywhere.

Outside the door, the top management in Pure White Shells glanced at each other, showing peculiar smiles.

”Finally dealt with this troublesome woman.”

”Haha, she probably didn’t realize, here, it’s a flowing encampment, but an ironclad president.”

”Just right, since she wanted to become our president, let’s fulfill her wish. Bionicize this woman, make her president, and produce a service model bionic according to her Template, because I also want to be served by her.”

As this executive spoke, laughter erupted around them.

’Pure White Shell’ has no Corporate Will, or rather, the place where the Corporate Will should be is simply a Black Hole that swallows any bionic.

Anyone attempting to occupy this position ends up as a sacrifice to the Six Great Ones.

However, while these executives were excited and elated, they completely failed to notice that the lights in the hallway began flickering.

Then, the lights suddenly went out, and the executives were shocked to find themselves in Sister Rose’s original position, surrounded by circles and circles of bionics.

”We’re all bionics, so why are you managing us?!” the young one shouted angrily.

”The first model doesn’t represent privilege; you’ve made us degenerate like Primordial People!” an old bionic lamented.

”Why do female bionics serve you, why can bionic models only be male or female, why do we have to become like humans, why can’t my gender be an armed helicopter?!”

The bionics grew angrier and angrier, while the executives, drenched in sweat, were at a loss for words.

Finally, someone made the first move, the first bionic lunged forward, followed by more and more people.

In the sky above, a gigantic face emerged. It seemed composed of countless chemical signals. Anyone who looked at it would experience all human emotions: excitement, terror, anger, decay, sadness, anguish...

These overwhelming emotional torrents were enough to wash away any bionic’s personality Template.

Ultimately, these emotions in Primordial People were different mixtures of chemical signals, while in bionics, they were types of brain Modules, a response mode forged by big data.

Mastering this would mean mastering the entire Bionic Realm!

And this was the Authority of No. 11 Destruction Form, the Metabolism Queen.

This is also the truth of ’Evolutionary Bionics,’ man-made, endless metabolism.

’Squeak—’

The door slowly opened, and Sister Rose appeared smiling at the entrance, with the fallen executives laid out before her.

”Looks like I need a new management team.”

Soon, the entire ’Pure White Shell’ started operating; ten minutes later, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed, as a batch of identical executives appeared in the corridor, seemingly blind to the fallen identical faces. They slightly bowed and respectfully said:

”Ms. Rose.”

”Let’s go; the media friends have arrived. We can’t be late for my first press conference since taking over,” Sister Rose said with a delightful smile.