Hidden Dead Ends

New Century Tower.

As Li Chengyi stepped out of the elevator, he was momentarily taken aback by the scene in front of him.

Instead of the usual bustling atmosphere of Hongjin Company, the place was nearly deserted, with no more than five people scattered around the spacious lobby.

“You’re here, Xiao Yi?” Song Ran called from a corner of the office hall, holding a freshly made cup of instant coffee.

“Brother Song? Where’s the boss? And why’s the company so empty?” Li Chengyi walked over, confused.

“They’re all in the back. The boss gave everyone a half-day off today, so only a few people are on duty from the afternoon until evening,” Song Ran explained.

“Ah, I see… so something’s happening today?” Li Chengyi instantly caught on.

“You’re quick.” Song Ran smiled. “One of the boss’s old subordinates dropped by to see him, and since he knows you’re interested in learning more about the Feiyi profession, the boss asked you to come over and get some expert information. Be respectful, alright? The guy’s a pro.”

“Got it,” Li Chengyi replied, immediately getting the hint from Song Ran’s words.

Crossing through the office hall, he walked to the door of the innermost office.

Inside, Xindra was chatting with a young man with black shoulder-length hair, both of them in animated conversation, looking relaxed.

Upon noticing Li Chengyi’s approach, the young man turned his head toward the door.

“Is this your guy?” he asked, glancing back at Xindra.

“He wants to learn more about Feiyi. Since you’re here anyway, why not share some insights?” Xindra replied with a slight smile, speaking quietly.

“Sure, you’re the boss. Whatever you say,” the long-haired man chuckled.

By this time, Li Chengyi had stepped inside. At Xindra’s nod, he approached the man and extended his hand.

“Hello, I’m Chengyi.”

“Ding Ning.” The young man smiled as he gave him a brief handshake.

“I heard from the boss that you could help me understand some things about Feiyi,” Li Chengyi began.

“Have you had your brain processing power tested?” Ding Ning asked.

“Not yet,” Li Chengyi replied, shaking his head.

“There you go. Operating Feiyi requires high mental processing power and quick neural response time,” Ding Ning said, gesturing for them to sit down on the nearby sofa.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of brainwave control?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes, I have. I know some kids’ toys even use it,” Li Chengyi nodded.

“Exactly.” Ding Ning continued, “Brainwave control essentially uses specially designed sensory components to detect the basic activity of your cerebral cortex. Through distinct brainwave patterns, it triggers corresponding control actions.”

“So, it’s not some mystical mind power or telekinesis?” Li Chengyi realized.

Even in his past self’s memories, brainwave control had always seemed mysterious, with little understanding of how it truly worked.

Hearing Ding Ning’s explanation, he immediately understood.

“Pretty much. In this world, there’s no such thing as psychic powers. It’s all about technology,” Ding Ning laughed. “Technology is the primary force of production. Brainwaves are just electrical impulses, after all, and tech has come a long way in harnessing that. Look up ‘Intellective Engineer’ online, and you’ll see the concept in action.”

“So, Feiyi is basically a brainwave-controlled drone?” Li Chengyi compared.

“Exactly!” Ding Ning nodded. “Take your average drone and modify it to move faster, hit harder, and react quicker, and you get a weaponized version—a Feiyi. That’s what we Intellective Engineers do.”

“Feiyi, in essence, stands for ‘flying apparatus.’”

“Flying apparatus…” Now that he understood, countless scenarios began forming in Li Chengyi’s mind.

“In that case, doesn’t every Feiyi controller require a dedicated support team to ensure their equipment is fully operational?”

“Feiyi doesn’t need as much maintenance as you’d think, so an elite Intellective Engineer can often handle it solo,” Ding Ning replied. “That’s why we’re called ‘engineers’ rather than just drone operators.”

“Got it.” A look of realization crossed Li Chengyi’s face.

“The boss mentioned you were interested in becoming an Intellective Engineer?” Ding Ning asked.

“Yes, I thought about it, though I know it’s difficult. I just want to give it a shot,” Li Chengyi admitted, looking a bit sheepish.

“It’s not impossible,” Ding Ning reassured him. “Once you go to the brain processing center, you’ll see. At first, it’s best to approach it as a hobby. Play around, test the waters. Most people have the mental capacity for it, as long as you’re not slow to react. For the basics, you won’t need complex processing power.”

“Then why is it…?” Li Chengyi started, but Ding Ning interrupted with a knowing smile.

“It’s the money.” Ding Ning laughed. “Intellective Engineering is a money pit! Even the most basic Feiyi, brainwave control terminal, and basic protective field set will cost tens of millions. And that’s just to start. After that, constant adjustments, maintenance, and modifications mean you’ll need to hire a professional Feiyi technician.”

As he spoke, Ding Ning took out a small red knife from his jacket pocket.

The knife was no longer than a palm’s width, intricately designed and refined.

“Here, this is my Feiyi—Fire Sickle. Take a look.”

He handed the knife to Li Chengyi.

Li Chengyi carefully took the small knife and inspected it closely.

The Fire Sickle looked like a mechanical knife, assembled from various finely crafted parts.

“With so many components, won’t this thing fall apart easily?” he asked, voicing his genuine concern.

“Good question.” Ding Ning smiled. “That’s where my job as a Feiyi technician comes in. After every three uses, the Fire Sickle needs to go back for adjustments and maintenance.”

“All Intellective Engineers have to deal with that?” Li Chengyi frowned.

“Pretty much. My setup is fairly standard. When you go to the brain processing center, they’ll measure your limits and tell you how far you can go. If you’re still keen on becoming an Intellective Engineer after that, and you’ve got the funds, no one will stop you.” Ding Ning took out another Fire Sickle, letting it rest on his palm, and then, without a sound, it floated up, trailing a faint red line from its tip.

“Anti-gravity modules are costly. Only high-tech industries within self-sustaining cities produce them, and to prevent tech leaks, Feiyi maintenance can only happen within those cities.”

“Could you share the price of these two Fire Sickles?” Li Chengyi couldn’t help but ask.

“Two million each, with a maintenance cost of a hundred thousand each time. They last for about fifty uses. If you hit something hard, you might have to remake it after a single use,” Ding Ning replied without hesitation.

“….” Li Chengyi had thought he’d overestimated the costs, but it seemed he hadn’t been prepared for just how expensive it was.

“Seems exaggerated, right? Burn-through-money fast?” Ding Ning asked, standing up. “Want to see Feiyi’s base speed?”

He raised a hand and looked at Li Chengyi with a calm smile.

“Is that okay?” Li Chengyi asked eagerly, standing as well.

“Of course, just a speed test—no wear and tear.” Ding Ning nodded.

“That would be great! Thank you!” Li Chengyi said sincerely, eager to finally see Feiyi in action.

“Alright… let’s use this cup as a hypothetical target.” Ding Ning lifted the cup in his hand and gave a faint smile.

Whoosh.

Suddenly, he tossed the milky-white cup into the air.

The cup arced lightly, reaching its peak before starting to fall.@@novelbin@@

Swoosh!

In an instant, a flash of red light streaked through the cup, passing directly through it.

Before Li Chengyi could even react, it was over.

With a *snap*, Ding Ning caught the cup one-handed, placing it in front of Li Chengyi.

A slender, scorched crack ran down the middle of the cup, about the size of a fingernail, yet it hadn’t shattered.

“A typical handgun bullet reaches supersonic speed the moment it leaves the muzzle,” Ding Ning explained. “My Fire Sickle doesn’t reach supersonic speed.”

“Then…” Li Chengyi, still stunned, began to ask.

“About half the speed of sound,” Ding Ning interrupted with a gentle smile. “The Fire Sickle’s speed is roughly half the speed of sound, and that’s not its limit—that’s my limit.”

“The fastest speed I can safely control is about here. Any faster, and it becomes harder to control, reducing its effectiveness and potentially even causing self-injury. It’s just not worth it.”

Li Chengyi fell silent.

He suddenly thought of his sister, Li Chengjiu, who was training to get her Intellective Engineer certification. Could she have her own Feiyi?

If Feiyi were so expensive, how had she managed to get her hands on one?

From family support alone?

In the past, he hadn’t thought about it, but now that he understood the costs, he knew their family’s resources weren’t enough to cover even the basic expenses of a Feiyi.

With this thought, he voiced his question to Ding Ning.

“That’s one way, yes. Many talented young people can secure investment from certain financial groups or organizations if they show promise. This keeps the cost

 manageable since large capital groups often have their own Feiyi maintenance staff, making upkeep cheaper,” Ding Ning replied.

“Some universities even offer Feiyi rentals. The rental price is much lower, but those models are typically one or two generations behind the latest ones on the market. They’re just meant for practice and familiarization.”

“I see.” Li Chengyi nodded.

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to join us, but I should give you a bit of advice in advance.” Ding Ning’s smile faded, and he spoke seriously.

“Yes, please,” Li Chengyi replied attentively.

“Before becoming an Intellective Engineer, it might not matter, but once you are one, you should personally oversee every maintenance session. Don’t get lazy and leave it all in someone else’s hands.”