Ultimate Battleship

Chapter 6

Half an hour later, every iron tool on the Sea Wolf—down to the last nail and iron hoop—had undergone a "mechanical insect" transformation. Not even Nie Yun’s trusty "Black-haired Person" hatchet was spared.

"Ah, perfect!" Nie Yun stood on the beach, eyeing the Sea Wolf from stem to stern. The ship glowed silver, sleek and otherworldly. A satisfied smile spread across his face, but it faded quickly. As impressive as it was, the metallic sheen was too flashy.

If this ship sailed out, the maritime police would confiscate it within minutes.

"If only it could change colors," he muttered, frowning.

And then, a miracle happened. The silver mechanical insects instantly shifted to the tools’ original hues. The Sea Wolf transformed before his eyes—like a Photoshop edit—from a futuristic silver vessel to a weathered, dilapidated fishing boat. Its sophistication plummeted, as if falling from the heavens to the mundane world.

"Uh… This…" Nie Yun gaped, staring in disbelief.

Shock gave way to laughter. "Ha ha, my sons, well done! Now we’ve saved on paint too! But our father-son communication still needs work. Let me help you unlock your potential!"

He flexed his hand, and among the mechanical insects feasting on the shipwreck, a silver-white ball the size of a fist bulged. It recoiled like modeling clay and landed in his palm, surprisingly weighty.

Giddy as a child, Nie Yun molded the silver ball. One moment it was a frying pan, the next a delicate knife—shaping it into various forms with ease. At his command, the ball’s color shifted: black, white, then a kaleidoscope of hues.

"Haha, fun! Turn it into a long sword!" Nie Yun was hooked, eager to channel his inner warrior.

But the mechanical insects didn’t respond. A question echoed in his mind: *What is a long sword?*

After much gesturing and miming, he explained a long sword was a blade with a handle. The insects remained confused, rolling in his palm.

"Er, can’t transform? Maybe only digestible items?" The Sea Wolf had no swords, so they lacked a template.

Days of communication taught Nie Yun the truth. Mechanical insects weren’t just repair fluid—they were micro-robots with storage units. A single insect had minimal storage, but as numbers grew, capacity increased exponentially.

When an insect ingested an item, it stored a virtual model. That’s how they reshaped materials—like 3D modeling. Current storage barely scratched their potential. As numbers multiplied, their capacity would become astronomical. In theory, with a physical template, they could replicate anything!

"Damn! That means if I feed you a battleship, you’ll build me one?" Nie Yun was floored. For a man who dreamed of being a glorious fisherman, this was more astounding than finding alien tech.

Until now, he’d seen the insects as mere ship repair tools.

"This changes everything! My 'son' is about to make a name!" he exclaimed, finally grasping the insects’ true nature.

The wonders of advanced civilizations dwarfed the imagination of an impoverished Earth fisherman, even with the insects’ fusion abilities.

But excitement was fleeting. Nie Yun craved a simple life with his Sea Wolf. As for exploiting the insects, he had no concrete plans.

After their "father-son chat," Nie Yun grew restless. Watching a glutton eat was entertaining—especially a beautiful woman—but watching mechanical insects? Mundane.

Yawning, he felt bored. He lay on the deck, basking in the sun, planning a nap. Lately, he’d grown addicted to sunlight. Without it, he felt off.

"Is this what they call 'couples growing alike over time'?" he mused, eyeing the insects beside him.

Eyelids heavy, he drifted off, dreaming he’d become a six-legged mechanical insect, running joyfully with countless siblings.

He woke as the sun painted the sky crimson, rubbing his eyes. "What a ridiculous dream! At least wear some clothes!"

The mechanical insects: "…"

Glancing around, the insects had devoured the shipwreck, leaving no trace above water. Their numbers seemed to have grown. Suddenly, a ball of insects rolled to him, wet from underwater work—inside, a coin!

"Damn, a relic!" Nie Yun snapped awake, grabbing the coin. His appraisal skills kicked in.

The coin looked ancient, its surface dull. He couldn’t identify the metal, but it wasn’t iron—he was certain of that.

"Looks like a silver coin," he murmured, stroking it.

The coin read "Guangdong Province Made" at the top, "Tael Weight One" at the bottom, with two bats on the sides. The reverse showed a pair of dragons.

"Emperor Guangxu? Sounds like a dynasty ruler. Song? Ming?" Nie Yun strained to recall, but his history was lacking. It didn’t matter—it was a relic, surely worth a fortune.

Tucking the coin away, he felt thrilled. A treasure upon waking! The shipwreck’s bottom was filled with mud; the insects must have found it there.

Nie Yun realized: as insect numbers grew, their intelligence seemed to rise. Now they turned in finds—unbelievable. Was this collective intelligence?

In truth, their fusion was reciprocal. Nie Yun felt more like an insect, and the insects grew more human—more "Nie Yun"-like.