To Four Thousand Years Later

Gang Ya feels that this crappy job is getting more and more boring. Like a kindergarten teacher, but also like a pig. What is the meaning of Chen Jie's metaphor, yes, Xiangxi chased corpses.

It's almost like chasing a corpse.

Thinking boredly, he stretched out his hand and patted the back of the head of the synthetic man passing by him. Seeing it staggered, he couldn't help being amused. Of course, he didn't dare to use too much strength. Not because he loves them all the time. But because he couldn't afford to pay for the damage.

Even the most convenient synthetic man for housework costs more than 8,000 yuan. From Gang Ya’s point of view, instead of using those convenient and reliable machines, instead of using these fragile “meat people” that need maintenance to handle housework, it’s just a weird hobby of those rich people. They are used to giving orders. They just love to order Humans, this can make them feel superior to them, he said, and kicked the synthetic human passing by him in the knee socket.

It has long, smooth black hair and a good face. It is wearing a neutral turtleneck sweater and has a slender figure. With steel teeth's professional eyesight, he knew at a glance that, except for the iconic collar, there was no trace of mechanical connection or secondary transformation on its body. This shows that it was not mechanically modified by its previous owner before it was sent here.

Probably from a brothel? This chest is too flat. Although I know that there are people who like this mouth, but considering the frequency of use of brothels, it is impossible to leave no injuries on the body. So, maybe a home synth? Maybe it's a synthesis for education. Well, this appearance looks very gentle and believable. It should be very suitable for teaching children to read. Maybe the kindergarten somewhere closed down. In order to recover the cost, it is a fool to sell the bought synth again, and it deserves to lose money. The steel teeth grinned, revealing the gold-colored artificial steel teeth. Everyone has money for beauty these days, but being ugly to a certain extent is a kind of performance art, of course Steel Teeth is not that kind of artist.

Who knows, making art costs money. His teeth were proof that he had worked in Sharp Tooth, at least that's what he told others.

Anyway, no one dared to really ask "Sharp Tooth". But even so, there are not many people in the company he is working for now, but let him go, so he can just find a job. It doesn't cost much to replace a steel tooth for yourself. But with a grin on the street, in a bar, he looks cool.

When someone asks "Are you a sharp-toothed hacker?", Gang Ya will repeatedly shake his head and refuse, and his attitude will be very fierce-and if he does this, others will be suspicious, thinking that he may be Sharp-toothed people, so fear him.

That would be great.

Even if someone with sharp teeth came to him, he wasn't afraid. Anyway, he has been denying, what is there to be afraid of? I just love that his nickname "Steel Teeth" is derived from it. Smart people can tell at a glance that this is a liar ghost, but so what? He didn't think he could fool any smart person. Gang Ya thought wildly for a while, only to find that the synthetic man was standing there motionless. Immediately I felt angry. This group of waste, in manual mode, just froze in place without instructions. Can't even move - it's really not as easy to use as a bionic person.

"Hurry up! Go forward! Go into the front room. Sit down on the chair. Steel Fang grinned, shouted loudly and rudely, and stomped its knees: " His grandma's. Let me go quickly! It's just the two of you! "Restore these two to the factory settings and you can get off work. Hurry up and finish it, hurry up and hurry up. It's past seven o'clock the fuck, I'm going to starve to death.

Madeleine was so sleepy. Seeing the synthetic man wandering into the instrument and sitting on the chair, Gang Fang yawned.

He raised his left arm and repeatedly pressed the buttons in the light curtain projected by the watch. Even if there are a bunch of warnings or error prompts, he ignores them all. This small second-hand company can have a fart of genuine software. He is used to the daily work of pressing a button and popping up warnings. Anyway, he doesn't need any complicated functions.

The "dream-making Dex" system was originally used to compile memories or enter data for synths. It is used by high-end synth companies to customize a wife or daughter for customers. It can't be bought for tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands thing.

Synthetics are more expensive than bionics here. Those low-end synthesizers are nothing more than pretentious products for those who have no money to make money.

To put it bluntly, if it weren't for ten, who the **** would buy a piece of trash that even heavy objects can't lift.

When Gangya first joined the company, he also thought about using this model of machine to practice his hands. If he can learn the memory system, he can move to the center of the city, and some small studios want him.

But he quickly gave up on the dream.

This **** is no longer the level of pirated goods or parallel imports. This thing is probably a nine-handed machine made by a great technician from a scrap yard, and it is already very powerful if it can be turned on normally.

Anyway, he only needs to restore the factory settings—very simple, select No for all advanced options, and reset all values ​​​​to zero. If you can't delete it cleanly, just do it again, it doesn't matter if there is only a little scum left. Anyway, those who buy second-hand should be mentally prepared.

To put it bluntly, Ji Zhulong can do the job.

"I don't know how to program, but I still know how to delete libraries. Gang Ya muttered to Ruo in a low voice, ignoring the dense pop-up windows that appeared to be infected by a virus, and precisely clicked on Ruo on the projection screen one by one. I saw the glass] gradually rising .Enclosed the independent space like an enlarged version of the telephone booth. On the armrests on both sides of the sofa, the steel rings clicked up and bound the arms of both hands. At the end of the barge device, a data cable slowly stretched out, and was precisely connected to the data interface behind its collar. This was supposed to be used for memory programming, but the data interfaces on it were all welded dead. Its only function now is about the same as that of a hot oil machine—it runs hot enough to heat the scalp. The only difference is that it also has a hard rod on it, which can prevent the synth from twisting due to the severe pain. Break your own neck.

"It's almost enough." Gang Fang grumbled, and pressed the confirmation button neatly. With the roar of the huge machine, the synthetic human who was restrained on the chair struggled violently and let out a mournful wail