Chapter 1303
You're fucking saying this is a crane?!
In the secret conference room of the S Agency, beams of light were projected from the ceiling, condensing into blurry human figures in the air. This was a projection meeting of the core members of SEELE, where those old men hidden in the shadows of human history gathered once again, attempting to control everything they believed they could control.
But the atmosphere at today's meeting was unusually strange.
Leading the group was a projection of Kiro Lorenz, whose aged face bore a rare hint of confusion and annoyance.
The other eleven projectors sat around the round table.
They were staring at the battle footage on the screen, and the room fell into a deathly silence.
The screen was playing a replay of the battle footage—the orange steel behemoth was spinning in the deep sea. The distinctive orange paint of the construction site crane was particularly glaring under the underwater lights, making it look like a dilapidated crane that could be seen everywhere on a construction site in some third-world country, only dozens of times larger.
This is the Balga, a super-heavy crane that should have been on the EDF battlefield transporting supplies and hoisting giant weapons, but now it's stirring up a devastating steel storm in the deep sea.
That color... that color looks like it just rolled off a construction site! That common, ubiquitous orange, the kind you'd expect to see used for moving steel bars and cement, hoisting precast concrete slabs, and slowly crawling along a construction site! This thing is EDF equipment, the kind of engineering vehicle used as a mobile shield against monsters and Star Guides! And now Cui Ming is using it to fight Angels?
The old men watched Balga's fight in silence.
Kilu's projected fingers trembled slightly. The data panel in front of him displayed Vulga's output reading—a number so high that he thought it was an instrument malfunction, or that NERV's technical department was deliberately falsifying data to humiliate them. That reading... that reading had exceeded even their most optimistic predictions for an EVA rampage.
“This thing,” an elderly man from the European branch finally spoke, his voice hoarse as if rubbing sandpaper, trembling with disbelief, “is even stronger than Unit-01?”
"Stronger than Unit-00," another projection from the North American branch chimed in, gesturing with a finger across data charts in the air, "Stronger than Unit-02? And what the heck is this color? Orange?"
The third elderly man in the projection muttered to himself, his face slightly distorted with shock. "This is construction site color; it's really used on construction sites."
All the resources they invested, the mental health of the drivers they sacrificed, and the cutting-edge technologies they used to barely get the EVA running, were like toys in front of this "engineering machine"!
Those colossal bio-weapons that require insertion plugs, neural synchronization, the risk of mental contamination, and pilots risking their lives to operate appear utterly pale and powerless before this purely mechanical machine. EVA has to fight Angels with all its might, go berserk, pay a heavy price, and watch its pilots suffer mental breakdowns; but this EDF crane simply turned around, cast a net, patted it, and that was it.
That lunatic Cui Ming calls this thing "construction site use"?!
"For engineering purposes?!" Jilu's projection finally erupted, his voice, accompanied by a piercing electrical crackling, echoing through the conference room. "He calls this thing for engineering purposes?! What crane can spin like a top when it's at sea? What engineering-grade contraption can be used as a fishing rod for the Seventh Apostle?!"
His roar caused the projections on the other old men's screens to flicker, but no one refuted him; everyone stared at the orange behemoth on the screen. They had seen Cui Ming's file and knew that this person came from another world, but they never expected that an EDF "engineering vehicle" he casually drove could slaughter Apostles, and slaughter them so...so casually.
Your EDF's transport robots could kill an Angel?!
“This must be a disguise,” an elderly man from the Asian branch muttered, his projected face contorted in his attempt to comprehend. “It must be some kind of super weapon we’ve never seen before in disguise. What S2 mechanism, what energy core? This can’t just be a crane.”
“No,” another elderly man in charge of technical review pointed to the structural analysis diagram on the screen, his voice trembling, his fingers shaking in mid-air, “Structurally, based on the skeletal analysis and the energy conduction path, it really is that Varga from Earth Defense Force 5. That super-heavy crane. It’s just… it’s just that the S2 mechanism that Cui Ming installed on it has an excessively high output.”
On the screen, the orange steel behemoth was using an industrial capture net to forcibly pull the Angel of Music from the depths of the ocean. The color was so blinding in the sunlight that it made one want to laugh and cry at the same time—like a logistics sergeant suddenly deciding to save the world with a crane, and actually succeeding, even surpassing their ultimate biological weapon. "Orange," an old man covered his face, the projected hand trembling in front of him, "Damn orange... Our ultimate weapon, EVA, which cost billions to build, is inferior to an orange construction crane from EDF."
“And look,” another old man pointed to the corner of the screen, “it’s not even painted in military camouflage. It’s just plain EDF construction orange. That bastard Cui Ming couldn’t even be bothered to repaint it.”
A bitter silence filled the meeting room. The elders exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes reflecting a deep sense of defeat and absurdity. If Cui Ming could easily defeat the Angels with just a random engineering robot, what did their meticulously planned Instrumentality Project, their revered EVAs, all their conspiracies and schemes amount to in the face of such absolute power? Were they just playing house?
“We must reassess the threat level of Cui Ming,” Kiru said with difficulty, trying to maintain his last shred of dignity. “This machine. This Varga. It must be brought under our control.”
"How do we control it?" an old man said with a wry smile. "Send EVAs to steal it? What do we have to steal it with? Unit-01's berserk mode? Unit-00's self-destruction?"
Another old man added, "And did you notice? Cui Ming didn't even take it seriously. He just... just drove an EDF crane out like he was going to work on a construction site. And then the Apostle died."
“What’s even more frightening,” the third old man said in a low voice, “is that he looks completely relaxed. Look at his expression. He didn’t even break a sweat in the cockpit. Is this the level of equipment in the EDF world?”
The elderly fell into a deeper silence. They watched the orange behemoth on the screen gradually disappear into the distance, its glaring construction site paint reflecting the sunlight.
In the corner of the round table, several projections sat quietly, their expressions slightly stiff, but the other elderly people didn't notice. The real people behind these projections were long gone, cleanly and efficiently disposed of by Cui Ming late one night. Those sitting there now were either substitutes arranged by Cui Ming, or puppets directly controlled by him. They listened quietly to their colleagues' discussion, occasionally nodding in agreement, and noting down every useful piece of information.
But Kilu and the other true elders were completely unaware of this. They were still earnestly discussing how to deal with Triumph, how to seize Bulga, and how to maintain SEELE's rule, completely oblivious to the fact that a third of the people in this conference room were no longer their colleagues, but rather the eyes and ears of the madman who drove the orange EDF crane and slaughtered the apostles.
“In short,” Keelow tapped the table, trying to end the frustrating meeting, “we have to figure out a way to prevent a madman who drives an EDF crane from taking control of everything.”
"Agreed." The other elderly people echoed, and the projection flickered in the air.
"At the next meeting," Kiloo said, glancing around at the familiar yet unfamiliar faces, "we will discuss the specific plans then. Meeting adjourned."
One by one, the projections went out, plunging the conference room into darkness. But in the darkness, the data streams from the replaced projections, which were the last to turn off, did not return to their original terminals, but instead flowed to a hidden corner of NERV headquarters.
There, Cui Mingzheng sat in a chair, drinking coffee, looking at the old people's foolish discussion records, a slight smile playing on his lips.
The orange EDF crane not only crushed the apostles, but also shattered the confidence of these old stubborn men.
And they were completely unaware of it.
That's the most interesting part. (End of Chapter)