Chapter 56: Everyone in New Eridu Has Their Own Lucky Charm

“Ah, giving up already? Didn’t you say you’d be a real bro?”

Eous patted the Grappler’s display screen. Though it had a mechanical body, it bent down softly to meet his gaze.

“Well... that’s... a wise man doesn’t fight pointless battles! To become a real bro someday, I can accept enduring this for now!”

The words seemed to hit home. The Grappler froze in place, fidgeting awkwardly before finally coming up with an excuse. The more it spoke, the more animated it became, its voice rising louder and louder. Before convincing anyone else, it sounded like it was convincing itself first:

“Yeah, that’s right! A real bro isn’t just about muscle—I’ve got brains too!”

“Really?”

A doubtful voice sounded in front of Hans.

Eous tilted his head, blinking repeatedly. “But you could’ve run the moment you saw us—though you probably wouldn’t have gotten far.”

“Yet you stopped, like you were waiting for us. If you really had a plan, wouldn’t you have bolted already?”

“Damn it, don’t slander me!”

The Grappler burst into fury, its tiny display overflowing with anger.

“I was making my declaration of independence as a real bro! I’m a man of responsibility—I have to cut ties with the past fair and square!”

“And this responsible man is lying here with all four legs removed?”

Eous was cute, but his words were wickedly sharp.

“Enough! Stop slandering me!”

The Grappler roared, “You treacherous little creatures, too cowardly to face me in a fair... duel...”

Before it could finish, a flaming blade thrust in front of its display. The searing heat made the Grappler feel as if its circuits might short out.

Phaga raised an eyebrow. “So you want a one-on-one?”

“Uh... well... who wants to fight fragile carbon-based lifeforms that break with a touch? I want to fight... I want to fight...”

The Grappler suddenly faltered, its tiny eyes darting everywhere to avoid Phaga’s gaze until they finally landed on Eous.

“You! It’s decided! You’re a sentient machine too, right? Fight me, in the name of manhood!”

Eous tilted his head, slowly forming a question mark.

Meanwhile, Phaga’s eyes flashed crimson in an instant as his long blade rose high.

The Grappler felt a sudden chill. Thinking Phaga had relented, it instinctively turned to look—only to find the blade already raised overhead, ready to strike.

“W-wait! This is a sacred duel! Carbon-based lifeforms can’t interfere... Damn it, you’re not a real bro! Is this really the end of my machine life?!”

Suddenly, Phaga seemed to sense something. He glanced aside, gauging Anton’s approach, and deliberately paused the blade midair for an extra beat.

A breath later, Phaga swung down!

“Ahhh, nooo!!! My machine life ends like this?!”

Clang!

Metal rang out as sparks of fire and electricity burst across the ground.

Phaga drew back at once, scooping Eous into his arms as he landed. His blade had only carved a shallow line into the earth, more for show than force.

Just as he steadied his stance, he felt a gentle touch at his back.

Turning, he saw Ellen with arms crossed, her tail resting lightly against him.

She gave him a glance. “You alright?”

“Mhm.”

Phaga slowly sheathed his blade, speaking casually. “He didn’t pressure me as much as Rina.”

“Tsk! Isn’t that obvious?”

Ellen turned away with disdain.

Rina was, after all, the head maid of Victoria Housekeeping.

...

Unlike Phaga’s controlled strike, Anton’s clash turned chaotic. The impact had blown a crater into the ground, Wispfire still clinging to its edges and making his drill spark with blue-white arcs.

Gritting his teeth, Anton drove the drill harder and harder, grinding it down until the stubborn flames finally died out.

But instead of shame, he wiped the sweat from his brow, then slammed his palm against the Grappler’s display and bellowed:

“Industrial Grappler, Hans—deploy!”

“Here!”

Almost instinctively, Hans shouted back with a loud “Here!”

But it quickly realized and protested, “No, that’s wrong! I’ve left the past behind—I don’t go by that name anymore! I’ve got a new one—loud, powerful, and badass!”

Anton ignored him, planting his fists on his hips before giving Hans a few firm slaps. “Good! Full of spirit! You’ve got the makings of a real bro!”

“Oh, uh, thanks...”

Hans thanked politely, then quickly snapped, “No, wait! What do you mean ‘makings’? I’m already a real bro who stands tall and proud!”

“Oh?”

In an instant, Anton’s gaze sharpened, his voice booming: “Then why did you just give up when Phaga swung at you?”

“Why waste your strength yelling instead of using your multi-ton bucket and claw to fight back?”

“Surrendering without a fight—is that what a real bro does?”

“You claim to be a real bro, but is that all you amount to?”

Anton’s words hit so hard they carried more weight than any sermon.

Hans’s programming wavered. Some unseen force seemed to stir its hidden code, and its mindset quietly shifted.

Powerful machines deserve powerful influences—but in New Eridu, even advanced AIs could be swayed by other means.

Hearing Anton’s words, staring up at his towering figure, Hans trembled with excitement. Looking at Anton was like beholding a newly risen sun, and Hans was his fervent follower.

Hans whispered in awe, “Brother Anton...”

“Come with me!”

Anton clenched his fist and hammered it against Hans’s display. Grace had said it would boost his manliness, and Anton believed her.

“Actually, it’s because the newly installed logic core is inside that display. With Anton’s strength, he might loosen a component and disrupt the core’s operation.”

Grace explained softly beside Phaga, Ellen, and Eous.

Everyone nodded. So that was it.

No wonder Anton smacked the screen after every sentence—it was all Belobog Heavy Industries’ plan!

They turned their attention back. Anton was standing sideways, pointing at himself.

“We still have an unfinished fight—a true man-to-man duel!”

“HAHAHAHAHA! I see now... I see!”

Hans suddenly burst into laughter, gazing at Anton with admiration. “Brother Anton, I’ve decided!”

“I’m going back! I’ll follow you and learn how to become a real bro—starting with dusting!”

“Hey! You’re a Grappler, not a dustman!”

Far off, Grace was fuming.

But Anton and the Grappler ignored her. Anton leapt back and threw a powerful punch. Hans, as if by instinct, twisted his bucket to meet Anton’s fist head-on.

Thud!

A heavy impact rang out, sealing their bond. Anton arched his brows, grinning wide as he shouted:

“Let’s go home, bro!”

“Yeah!”

The Grappler nodded firmly, lifting a leg to follow Anton.

But as it tried to move, it remembered—its four legs had all been dismantled.

Awkwardly, it said, “Um... could you reattach the legs of this future real bro?”