Transformers: Survival of Defective Products

Chapter 20, where is the machine?

That night, it happened to be a relatively busy time slot. The vector had just come out from the red spider, and the left forearm terminal still had half a page of data that hadn't been read yet. Knockout sent a frequency band over first.

The content is very short.

There's a sound wave performance today. Aren't you curious about it?

Yin Xiang stared at those two lines of text for two seconds, thought for a moment, and then closed the document page in his hand.

Row.

I'll just take a look.

She casually sent a message to Zhen Tianzun saying she was going to the arena tonight, and he replied a few seconds later with a very short message.

Don't stay up too late.

After reading the vector, he clicked his tongue, put away the terminal, and went on his way.

When they arrived at the arena, Knockout was already waiting in a seat near the front of the audience. His red, white, and black outfit stood out irrationally among the disorganized crowd; he was spotted almost immediately.

As she got closer, she couldn't help but tease him, "Isn't your skincare routine a bit too frequent?"

He turned his head to look at her, a habitual smirk playing on his lips.

"It's better than some machines turning themselves into scrap parts."

Yin Vector's lips twitched; he was too lazy to waste time on his opening remarks.

She arrived just in time; the sound wave event was about to begin a few minutes later.

After Soundwave entered the arena, the atmosphere of the entire venue was different from when Zhen Tianzun was competing.

There was no overwhelming momentum to push the crowd upwards, nor the presence of someone who seemed to want to grab every pair of optical glasses before and after the game.

After looking at the vector for a short while, I found myself almost unable to look away.

That machine was so quiet.

So quiet that every movement seemed to have been planned long ago.

There was no need for unnecessary probing or wasted effort; even dodging wasn't "hiding," but rather as if one had preemptively removed oneself from the opponent's attack path.

As she looked at it, she subconsciously took half a step forward.

...She really likes this style.

She originally thought that this quiet path would get a bit boring after a while.

But once she really looked into it, she realized that it wasn't like that at all.

The oppressive feeling of sound waves doesn't come from sheer volume or a direct confrontation.

He was waiting.

Wait for the opponent to panic first, wait for the opponent to become anxious first, and wait for the opponent to reveal their weaknesses.

Then he moved again.

Once it starts moving, it's so fast that almost all the judgment and initial steps are skipped.

The cheers from the crowd were initially very loud, but gradually subsided. The audience began to stare intently, as if afraid that if they blinked, they would miss exactly how he had taken down his opponent.

"See that?" Knocked down, arms crossed, speaking slowly, "He's not just making few moves."

The vector didn't turn its head; its gaze remained fixed on the field.

"Not a single move is wasted," she added.

He turned his head to look at her, and the smile in his mirror deepened.

"Not bad," he said. "At least this time it doesn't feel like we're just watching for fun."

Ignoring his comment, the vector continued to focus on the game.

She only let out a soft breath when the sound wave cleanly and crisply ended its final strike.

...No wonder.

No wonder Knockout said, "This guy is very quiet, but he can still shoot down a machine gun."

As she watched Soundwave slowly walk backstage, she turned and chatted with Knockout.

"Do all medical officers like you particularly like this style of play?" Yin Xiang asked, tilting his head, his tone still carrying the interest he had just gained from watching the match.

He knocked her down, arms crossed, and slowly followed her two steps toward the edge of the stands.

"Clean and efficient, isn't it?" he said.

"His speed isn't pure speed." Yin Xiang thought for a moment and said what he had just noticed. "It's more like... he's already positioned himself in a way that his opponent might make a mistake."

He turned his head and glanced at her, the smile in his eyes becoming more pronounced in the mirror.

"You've been seeing things more and more realistically lately."

Yin Vector snorted, ignoring his half-praise, half-insult remark.

What she didn't notice was that, in the post-match tunnel, before disappearing into the shadows, Sheng Bo's gaze briefly fell in their direction.

Extremely short.

It is more complete and structurally stable than the previous ones, with smoother transitions between movements, and the machine body has been basically repaired.

Record complete.

He took that glance in, then looked away as if nothing had happened.

He glanced over there out of the corner of his eye, and the smile in the mirror paused for a moment.

But he didn't say anything.

"But if you really like this style," he continued, his tone still leisurely, "don't just focus on how pretty it looks. This kind of play relies heavily on judgment, rhythm, and patience. If your brain is even a beat slower, no matter how clean your movements are, it won't matter."

"I know." Yin Xiang crossed his arms and said that, but his eyes unconsciously glanced towards the backstage corridor. "That's why I looked more carefully."

He knocked her down with a soft chuckle.

"It's good to look carefully. Don't just stand there and stare blankly after you've finished reading."

He glanced at him sideways and said, "You really don't know when to stop talking."

"A professional habit," Knockout answered confidently. "When I see a problem, I just want to point it out."

The two stood at the edge of the stands, casually rambling on about the sound wave's footwork, the old injuries of several veteran players on the sidelines, and then about Zhen Tianzun's increasingly unrestrained speeches in recent matches. As they chatted, time slipped by.

It wasn't until Knockout casually remarked, "Why didn't you rush to the backstage today?" that Vector belatedly looked down at the terminal on his left forearm.

The next second, her heart skipped a beat.

……broken.

I didn't send a goodnight message.

She immediately brought up the frequency band interface, and there was already a new message at the top.

There's no need to even look at who the sender is.

The content is also very short.

Where's the machine?

The vector stared at those two words, and the whole machine fell silent for half a second.

He knocked her down, standing to the side, and clearly saw her frozen expression for a moment. The corners of his lips slowly curled up.

"What?" he deliberately dragged out the word, "Did someone notice you've been out of contact today?"

Yin Xiang's forehead twitched, and he was about to retort when the already small gap at the edge of the audience seats fell silent for a moment.

She instinctively turned around instantly.

Zhen Tianzun was already standing there.

I don't know how long I've been here.

Pointer vector: "..."

He knocked her down, then looked at Zhen Tianzun; the meaning in the mirror was almost impossible to suppress.

"You came quickly." He said casually, "Should I avoid this everyday squabble between you?"

The vector's lips twitched, and it almost cracked the terminal on the spot.

Not far away, the dark-colored figure at the post-race tunnel entrance did not leave immediately, and also took in this scene.