Chapter Sixteen: A Matter Concerning the Level of Technical Expertise

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—I actually... can understand it all.
No flowcharts needed, no annotations required... not even a machine to assist.
He naturally read through the lines and blocks of code.
This shouldn’t be possible.
Nowadays, people have completely forgotten even the “Anno Domini” system and the “Olympics,” which means he must have been in a deep sleep for a very long time.
From what Dr. Schultz mentioned about biochemical products like the “reverse messenger soaking agent,” the technology of this era is far more advanced than what he once knew—he could even be certain that Will Granddog’s electronic muscles would have been unimaginable back in his time.
But the one exception was this computer technology...
“Seriously? In whatever era this is, you’re still using C language...”
—Though it’s a variant, at its core, the driving system of this prosthetic is still based on C language.
Even if it’s more advanced than the C language Xiangshan was familiar with...
“Has human progress in computer science actually come to a halt?”
Xiangshan felt his chip overheating... or something else... something was off...
—Why is there no progress in the most critical field?
—Did humanity climb the wrong tech tree... or perhaps not...
—It’s not that “computer science has stagnated,” but maybe... “mathematics or physics have stalled”?
Modern science is an integrated structure. The fundamental disciplines are its foundation, while others are the building itself. Only the development of foundational sciences can drive the advancement of other fields.
For instance, without optics, there would be no microscopes, no cell theory.
Without quantum mechanics, humanity couldn’t explore the atomic realm, and molecular biology wouldn’t exist.
And so on.
What determines the advancement of computer technology is mathematics and materials science—or more precisely, mathematics and condensed matter physics.
Xiangshan pressed his forehead.
He didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. The residual knowledge in his mind was still usable; he hadn’t lost the means to fight back, which was good. But humanity...
—Calm down, Xiangshan.
The man spoke to himself.
This was just a low-tier warrior’s body. Perhaps to these townsfolk, their lord was supreme. But to humans of higher status, this lord might be nothing more than a rural tycoon. This dog could only be considered a low-tier warrior... a chip didn’t necessarily represent the pinnacle of human technology.
Xiangshan sat in his chair, silent for a moment.
“Master?” Yuki noticed a shift in Xiangshan’s mood.
Xiangshan waved his hand and looked at the terminal screen, scrolling up and down for a while.
“But even if this guy is just a low-tier individual... this driver is terribly crude. Not only is it unoptimized, it doesn’t even have proper encapsulation...”
“Encapsulation” was a mysterious programming skill. It could hide a block of code, only exposing the necessary interfaces for the program to run. It was like sealing the source of the program’s power, allowing it to operate conveniently.

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Encapsulation prevents users ignorant of IT from mishandling data, while enhancing ease of use. This process hides the implementation details of classes, forcing users to access data only through programmer-defined methods.
“Encapsulation is a process that separates the elements that compose abstract structures and behaviors.” A new memory surfaced—something a programmer once told him: “The job of encapsulation is to separate the interface of abstract concepts from their implementation.”
Without encapsulation, not only would these drivers be far less practical, but any unauthorized intruder who could access the chip could arbitrarily rewrite and distort its instructions.
“Encapsulation” is like the “Ren-Du Minor Cycle” in cyber internal energy.
Only when encapsulation is complete does the abstract concept forming your internal energy become self-contained and immune to external interference. Only then can you truly enter the path.
At first, Xiangshan thought there might be hidden traps here.
But there were none.
No traps, no viruses, nothing at all.
Lowering his head, Xiangshan muttered, “Yuki, do you see it now... practicing martial arts without cultivating inner power is all for nothing.”
No matter how strong an external martial art a warrior practices, if their internal drive is at this level...
Any internal martial artist could control them with ease.
His prosthetic eye would only see pre-set images. His prosthetic ear would only hear pre-recorded audio. His memory could be perused at will, and his voice box would only say what others wanted him to say.
A powerful warrior is merely a more formidable puppet.
Of course, one could choose not to cyberize. But even a natural human martial arts master couldn’t defeat the weakest cyber warrior. The neural signals traveling at hundreds of meters per second simply couldn’t keep up with cyber warrior movements. Bones made of protein and calcium would shatter with a light collision against metal or carbon fiber skeletons.
Without internal power to resist external evils, one doesn’t even have the right to resist.
Perhaps these servitors’ drivers were written this way to prevent even a flicker of rebellion.
—What’s certain is that even among the servants, this dog held no status.
This world still had vigilantes who resisted the oppressors. And vigilantes mostly knew internal power. They could easily manipulate these warriors who didn’t understand inner cultivation.
Either the upper echelon had to fight vigilantes personally, or they had a batch of servants with well-encapsulated drivers.
Though these latter servants had encapsulated drivers, that wasn’t true “internal power” — they only received a “bestowment” from the strong, granting them the ability to seal themselves against external evil, but they didn’t know how to harness this power.
Yuki’s eyes widened. “No... it can’t be that terrifying, right?”
He couldn’t believe it. The once proud warrior who used to tear through workers’ throats now looked like...
A lowly servant of such a degree?
Even though it was Master’s analysis, he struggled to accept it.
“You can’t disbelieve it, Yuki.” Xiangshan looked at the empty canine frame. “This guy is essentially weak... pitifully so. Yet he might not even realize how pitiful he is.”
—What on earth have you done to Earth?
Suddenly overcome with anger, Xiangshan shocked himself.
Who was he angry at? Who possessed the power to turn the world into this state?
“So the next most important task is to reprogram these chips.” Xiangshan picked up the medical terminal set aside. “Yuki, what happens in the next few hours may be completely incomprehensible to you. For now, follow your customs and dispose of this brain.”
“Oh.” Yuki nodded obediently, then wrapped the brain with some discarded plastic fibers and took it outside.

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Xiangshan then took the original data storage device from the dog warrior and connected it to the medical terminal. He first backed up the medical terminal’s system onto that storage device, then entered the operating system’s backend.
The speaker emitted a whistle.
Thanks to the world’s richest man of the late 20th century, the founder of Microsoft, and creator of the Windows system.
This system was actually a variant of Windows—at this point, Microsoft probably no longer pursued piracy issues. Windows was the most widely used OS in computer history, and Microsoft was once one of the most prominent contributors to the open-source world.
Many were familiar with Windows. For programmers, it was a foundational skill to master.
“I will remember your positive contributions to this world, Master Gates.”
……………………………………………………………………
Yuki walked cheerfully down the street.
It was strange. Only one night had passed, but the world looked completely different to him. He still didn’t have a father, but now he had a master. Though a bit eccentric, this master was definitely a great vigilante. Someday, Yuki would become a great vigilante too.
The children who had bullied him approached, but now they merely glanced at Yuki and backed off. They knew the person Yuki brought back was formidable.
Yuki smiled brightly. Though he hadn’t learned much yet, he now knew those bullies were just so-called “weaklings”—and he would become the sword of the weak, a hero!
How wonderful...
“Bang.” Perhaps lost in thought, Yuki accidentally bumped into someone.
“Can’t watch where you’re going? If your prosthetic eye’s broken, get it fixed soon!” The man, clearly angry, had a trembling synthetic voice: “You’re that brat from the Yulia family, right? What do you mean by that, huh?”
“Sorry, sorry!” Yuki curled up to protect his natural body. “I was just thinking about something, sorry!”
“What were you thinking... you!” The man grabbed Yuki but reconsidered and let go. “Be more careful next time!”
Yuki finally saw that the man was named Veli, a dockworker in town. His family was poor during childhood, so he never got a suitable labor body and had a rough life. He could only help heavy workers during busy times.
But he couldn’t keep this job long.
Yuki remembered his mother had also hired Veli once. But Yulia later found him too expensive and unmotivated, so they never worked with him again.
Yuki stuck out his tongue and quickened his pace, arriving at the organic waste recycling basin beside the farmland.
The organic parts of cybernetic humans also produced waste. Even Xiangshan, who replaced almost his entire body with artificial prosthetics except for his brain, experienced this. Sometimes fluids seeped from his throat—metabolic waste.
But most cyber humans couldn’t manage to excrete so little.
Next to this basin was a public restroom. Underground was a decomposition pool containing genetically engineered bacterial colonies that efficiently broke down waste and other garbage. A separate inlet, looking like a pool, allowed other scattered organic waste to be dropped in, sinking and then being drawn into the decomposition pool through a complex pipe system.
The water seal at the entrance prevented external contaminants from entering the pool and stopped harmful gases from escaping.
Yuki tossed the brain wrapped in plastic into the basin. With a splash, the brain hit the water.
If it were Xiangshan, he might have cupped his hands together in a gesture of respect. Xiangshan wasn’t a Buddhist, but he believed such ancient cultural gestures expressed respect for opponents and for life.
But Yuki showed no reaction, humming a tune as he turned and walked away.