Pirate Phantom
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[AR] Chapter 13: The Last Glow
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 19:53:05 +0000 UTCInside the massive laboratory building, the group followed Luo Yuan as he worked the control panel of a CNC horizontal lathe, murmuring in awe.
His fingers moved quickly over the buttons, inputting lines of structural programming at high speed. At the same time, he directed Wang Wei and Tian Bo to place resin rods into the machine.
When he pressed the cycle start button, the machine began cutting the resin at a steady pace.
He had chosen resin because solid metal was far too heavy for ordinary, untrained university students to wield. The resin nearby had better toughness than wood, a relatively low density, and—paired with a steel spearhead—would make a practical and durable modern melee weapon.
Since it was relatively easy to handle, most people opted for resin shafts with 45# steel spearheads.
Luo Yuan listened to everyone’s requests as he coded, making cylindrical staves or handles on the lathe, while the CNC milling machine was used for more complex weapon shapes.
The others watched him in amazement. To them, the strings of letters on the screen looked obscure, but to him, they were as natural as breathing.
Only Chen Fengling stood off to the side, a little worried.
He looked tired. Adding just a little complexity to the code could mean adding several extra lines of data—and some people were still asking for fancier designs.
It made her heart ache.
“Everyone, I think it’s better if we standardize our spears. That way we’ll save time.”
She said this, and those who didn’t understand much about machining agreed.
“Luo Yuan-senpai, can you make something like a greatsword?”
Ye Xintong leaned forward, eyes shining. Luo Yuan instinctively leaned back from her sudden closeness, and Chen Fengling’s expression darkened slightly.
“Making something like that is very complicated. This…”
She hadn’t finished speaking before Luo Yuan nodded.
“I learned the design for a greatsword back when I was training. I can make it right away. I’m fine.”
He said it calmly, but when he operated the machine, his focus made it clear he intended to see it through.
Chen Fengling’s mood turned stormy again.
Ye Xintong shrank back from the strange, almost terrifying aura Chen Fengling gave off.
“Uh… Senpai, you don’t need to work so hard for me. Instead, maybe you should focus more on your girlfriend, Fengling…”
Hearing “Girlfriend,” Chen Fengling’s cheeks turned crimson. She covered her face and mumbled, “I… I’m Luo Yuan’s…”
Ye Xintong decided from then on to support her junior’s love life.
The greatsword was completed. Cut entirely from metal, it wasn’t as refined as a modern industrial weapon, but its superior material quality far surpassed anything from a traditional workshop.
The weapon’s clean, minimalist design carried a modern feel, almost as if it had stepped out of a cyberpunk world. It only looked high-tech—most of the effect came from the decorative surface patterns.
Luo Yuan had wanted to reduce its weight, but at Ye Xintong’s insistence, he kept it solid metal.
She left satisfied, while Chen Fengling simply stood there with a dazed, dreamy look.
“Staaare—ᗜ‸ᗜ”
Her gaze was full of expectation, but after a moment she looked a little disappointed.
Luo Yuan felt uneasy under her stare.
“Uh… Fengling, you look so delicate…”
“Staaare—Ծ‸Ծ”
He scratched his head.
“Alright, I’ll make you something. I just mean… I can protect you myself…”
“(ฅωฅ *)”
She was instantly disarmed, like a black mamba shot out of the sky by a helicopter.
But he didn’t notice—he had already turned back to the machine and asked, “What kind do you want?”
“Uh… huh? You’re asking me? I want a black one-handed sword…”
Her answer surprised him. He had expected her to choose a spear for safety or a dagger for familiarity. Instead, she picked one of the hardest weapons to master.
“Are you sure? This kind of weapon isn’t easy to handle…”
He warned her not to make a reckless choice in the apocalypse.
“I…”
She hesitated. It was true that the one-handed sword was her strongest weapon, but explaining why a shy, frail girl could use a sword wasn’t easy.
“I trained in Western fencing for five years at the youth center. They even called me the Sword Saint of the Youth Center!”
Flustered, she made it up on the spot—though she had once told him about practicing martial arts to get stronger. She hadn’t specified how or what she’d trained in, so while he could tell her excuse was flimsy, he knew her enough to believe she could use the weapon.
“Alright, give me a moment…”
He began working again.
Making her sword took longer than expected. But with the help of their material stockpile and portable supplies, he finished it in three hours.
The sword was silver, its length between a short sword and a long sword. To meet her request for a pure black blade, he heated it over fire until the surface darkened—something that made Chen Fengling quietly roll her eyes and feel touched at the same time.
It was forged with lathes, milling machines, and even pressing equipment—a true modern-made cold weapon. Even Luo Yuan wasn’t sure how he had managed to finish it so quickly.
When she took it, it was still hot—well over a hundred degrees—but well below melting point, so he didn’t notice.
“…No wonder you never had a girlfriend in your last life,” she whispered softly, hugging him and nuzzling into his chest.
“Luo Yuan’s the best~”
Feeling her warmth and faint white-rose scent, his cheeks flushed. Her chest pressed against him in a soft, shifting curve—a mix of cute and dangerous.
This was her reward for all his effort… though it wasn’t clear who was really rewarding whom.
After a while, she reluctantly stepped back. The group, now fully prepared, headed for the side gate to continue toward the stadium.
Before leaving, they turned back for one last look at the school’s most iconic site, silently paying their respects.
Ever since the dissolution of the Su Alliance and the rise of other schools, this place had been in decline. The forging presses were rusting, the century-old machines failing—half of them no longer usable.
Even without the apocalypse, they would have been dismantled in time, their history forgotten by new students.
But today, like the last glow of a setting sun, this place had given them an unexpected gift. Maybe this was the final parting present from an era of red banners and roaring forges.
No one lingered on the thought. They turned away, leaving the last-century machines to sink beneath the tide of time.
The side gate was considered the safest exit. A nearby window allowed them to check the outside. The first stage of infection in a place took time, but after that, the process accelerated. They had clearly reached the later stage.
There were no regular infected outside now—only Corrupted Vanguards or half-formed creatures still dormant on the Corruption Nests.
With weapons in hand, they didn’t fear these thirty or so scattered threats.
Chen Fengling, citing her sword skills, stepped into the front line. She fought with controlled precision, just behind Ye Xintong and Tian Bo in effectiveness. This made Luo Yuan even more determined to become a true combat asset for the team.
Ye Xintong swung her steel greatsword with terrifying strength, cutting Corrupted Vanguards in half without even aiming.
Tian Bo struck cleanly with each spear thrust, disabling infected in a single, graceful move.
But the biggest surprise was Chen Fengling. She advanced at a steady pace, eyes sometimes closed as if forcing herself to focus—but her strikes always split her target in two.
Luo Yuan began to wonder—was her sword really that sharp, or was she just that skilled?
As they moved forward, she seemed to “adapt” to fighting monsters, quickly becoming one of the team’s top three fighters.
Their progress was so smooth it made the Corrupted Vanguards seem trivial. But when others tried, they discovered that without Luo Yuan, it often took the rest of them together to match one person’s strength.
They had made it this far without losing a single member.
But good fortune doesn’t last forever. Only a few hundred meters from the stadium—their final destination—trouble came.
