vncnus Chapter 100, Let's do it later.
Chapter 100, Let's do it later.
At first, Vector thought it was difficult enough to learn how to find loopholes in the laws, but later she discovered that Cybertron's problems were much bigger than she had imagined.
After several days of reviewing legal documents, old cases, explanations of authority, and appeal records, her brain module finally gave out from the overwhelming workload and finished summarizing.
The basic supply guarantee clauses, temporary shutdown procedures, administrative security review authority, appeal portals for lower-level personnel, old regulations on identity registration, etc., all seem to be quite complete.
But as you look at each item carefully, a dizzying array of problems begin to emerge.
The law does state that any citizen can submit an appeal, but there's no complete appeal template in the low-level access channel. Even if there were, the appeal portal was hidden so well that she spent an entire day searching for it.
Although most basic legal treaties are marked as publicly searchable, various versions circulate, making it impossible for users to distinguish which is the official and authentic version, not to mention that many are abridged versions.
She leaned back in her chair, her optical glasses scanning the pile of legal documents on the table.
What she cares about most is the education system.
Cybertron has schools, technical colleges, training institutions, elite development systems, and more.
But you have to scan your identity before entering each door.
Origin, city, body code, functional category, department affiliation—not everyone can go to school.
The line of sight is drawn downwards.
She wasn't a native Cybertronian; her brain module still contained concepts from another world.
Schools, compulsory education, basic legal knowledge, public safety education, transparent appeal procedures, and the overall level of basic understanding and awareness of rights among citizens.
Even if that world is not perfect, it still embodies the principle that basic knowledge should not belong only to the upper echelons.
However, Cybertron does not have a system that is truly available to all machines.
All knowledge and cognition have barriers.
Even if a low-level machine has ambition and ideals, and suddenly has the idea to learn something other than mining, such as mechanical processing? No, the real processing skills are locked in the files, and only authorized people can access them.
So, you'd like to learn finance on your own and become a trader? Forget about it; you don't have the authority to even see introductory materials for traders.
She looked down at the draft she had already revised and completed, then picked up her pen and wrote another line in the blank space beside her: "The low-privilege appeal portal needs to be opened simultaneously."
After finishing writing, I added another line:
All temporary restrictions involving basic supplies, maintenance, and energy supply must be accompanied by a publicly disclosed risk statement.
When the titanium craftsman went in to check on her work progress, he caught a glimpse of these things.
On another data board next to it, a dense array of plans and preliminary ideas were already laid out:
Cybertron Foundation Academy Project
[Framework for Low-Access Open Courses]
[Basic Legal Provisions, Public Safety, and Complaint Procedures: Legal Education]
He didn't disturb them, quietly glanced through the document, and then nodded gently.
-
She saw the changes in Optimus Prime's body in a legal assistance record.
The video, which lasts only a dozen or so seconds, comes from a management terminal in a remote urban area.
The local registration system had been in disrepair for years, with various errors and conflicting reports piling up, eventually forcing Optimus Prime to go and investigate in person.
The local official spent a long time explaining, basically saying that the system was outdated, permissions were messed up, it was difficult to handle either side, and everyone was having a hard time.
Optimus Prime listened intently.
He waited until the other person finally finished speaking before he spoke:
"If the registration permissions are not updated, the lower-level maintenance quota will remain stuck in the original system."
His tone was calm, yet the person in charge dared not interrupt or say more.
"Machines that truly need repair don't get the quota, but the system still shows that the quota has been allocated."
The local officials remained silent.
Optimus Prime looked at the row of old system cabinets and continued, "Don't write this as 'system delay' yet; write it as 'access expired.' The relevant departments should also handle this as soon as possible."
When she saw this, she paused for a moment. When the screen switched to the side, she noticed that there was a new system on the outside of Optimus Prime's forearm.
The railgun was not fully retracted into the outer armor; there was a faint, cold gleam on its edge from recent adjustments.
He didn't have this before.
As the image went black, Yin Xiang remained silent, a silence that defied description.
She still remembered the outline of Orion's original machine.
The clean, soft lines and gentle elegance make the machine feel comfortable.
The current Optimus Prime still possesses that charm that draws machines to him, but that gentleness is no longer as relaxed.
It was as if something was slowly merging into his body, making him more reserved.
She was just about to send a message asking Optimus Prime why he suddenly got into trouble when the legal system popped up a notification: [Supplementary Explanation of Basic Supply Guarantee Clauses: Third Edition Annotations Returned.]
Vector: ...Well, she's been revising it so much her hands are numb, and the system won't even sympathize with her.
She deleted the text in the message box and reopened the draft.
Never mind, I'll ask later.
-
A few weeks later, Vector returned to his residence and saw a piece of old shoulder armor that had been removed and placed next to the repair table—it was Megatron's.
She turned her head to ask a question, but saw Megatron standing in front of the main screen, looking at a defense cooperation application from a peripheral military district.
The new shoulder armor is more outward-spreading than before, with sharper points, resembling sharpened shark teeth, and the Decepticon symbol on the chest is also darker in color.
His body outline was already imposing, but now it resembled a sharp weapon being honed and about to be unsheathed.
Vector glanced at it, then looked away, because her terminal rang again.
[Source of administrative security review authority: To be confirmed.]
She looked down and opened it.
Behind him, Megatron's voice suddenly came: "You saw it."
The vector did not turn back: "It's hard to see."
"Any thoughts?"
"Not yet." She paused, then added, "It's just that you look more like you could shear the door frame off right now."
Megatron scoffed, "The door frame should adapt to me."
Yin Vector rolled his eyes, looking at the document, then glancing at the main screen out of the corner of his eye halfway through.
This is no longer just an internal report from Caron.
[A Decepticon logo has appeared in a channel on the outskirts of Qingqiu City.]
The Turac defense line has requested the establishment of informal cooperation.
There are also several publicly available videos that were captured by the sound waves.
In the scene, a low-level combat mech walks past a street corner, its shoulder armor bearing a newly applied Decepticon insignia. The markings are still fresh, and the edges haven't even been completely worn away.
On another channel, someone displayed that logo on their terminal homepage.
There was also a blurry distant view, like a gathering on the outskirts of some non-Kalon city. Several machines stood together, each bearing that cold, sharp insignia on its outer armor.
The vector's gaze lingered on those images for a moment.
The Decepticons are no longer limited to Charon.
It began to be recognized, spread, displayed on channels, and even actively used by some organizations as a kind of identity.
Megatron looked at the feedback, and something was churning and gathering inside the red optical lens.
I looked at the vector for a while, and was about to say something.
The terminal rang again.
[Third draft annotations: Titanium Master has marked seven sections that need to be rewritten.]
She looked down at the reminder and sighed softly.
She'll talk to him about the Decepticons later.
The important thing now is that her third edition is dead.