Chapter : 585

His thoughts drifted back to his first life as KM Evan. He remembered the grueling years spent in the lab, long nights fueled by stale coffee and sheer stubbornness, all to perfect a single component for his battle suit’s power core. He remembered the endless simulations, the frustrating failures, the microscopic adjustments. It was a grind of a different sort, intellectual rather than physical, but the feeling was the same. The real victory wasn't the final, spectacular flight of the suit; it was the moment the diagnostics on that one, tiny, obstinate component finally came back green.

This was that moment. The diagnostics were green.

He had proven to himself that the discipline of the Major General still lived within him. He hadn't taken the easy way out. He hadn't spent his coins on flashy, single-use power-ups or temporary buffs. He had endured the long, hard road to build something permanent. Something sustainable.

A slow smile touched his lips. He was proud of the choice. He was proud of the work.

Finally, feeling centered and resolute, he closed his eyes. The time for reflection was over. It was time to build.

He summoned the System interface. The star-filled void bloomed in his consciousness. His mental cursor, a point of focused will, moved with unshakeable purpose toward the [Upgrades] tab. The cost glowed there, a stark reminder of the price: 500 FC. His new balance of 700 FC glowed beside it.

The math was simple. The choice was clear.

His mind was quiet now. There was no more debate between the soldier and the engineer. They were in perfect agreement. The most strategically sound decision, the one that would guarantee the greatest long-term advantage, was to automate. To delegate. To build the machine that would do the work for him.

He was ready to buy his freedom. The long, hard, boring road had led him here, to the threshold of a new era in his second life. With a sense of profound and utter certainty, he prepared to take that final, revolutionary step. The age of Lloyd Ferrum, the manual laborer, was about to end.

The moment of truth had arrived. Lloyd, seated in the tranquil silence of his private dimension, focused his entire will on the glowing interface suspended in his mind's eye. The 700 Farming Coins in his account felt like a physical weight, a treasure earned through sheer, bloody-minded perseverance. The 500-coin price tag for the [Automated Harvesting Protocol] seemed to taunt him, a gateway to a new reality guarded by a steep toll.

For a final, fleeting second, the cautious soldier in him made its last stand. This is over seventy percent of your capital, it whispered, a voice of cold, hard-earned pragmatism. A single unforeseen event, a new, higher-level threat appearing in the Farm, and your reserves will be insufficient. Prudence dictates a larger buffer.

But the engineer, the system-builder, the architect of victory, laughed in its face. What prudence is there in continuing to bail out the ocean with a thimble? it countered. The fundamental inefficiency of our current resource generation is the single greatest threat we face. It consumes our most valuable asset: the User's time and focus. Fixing that is not a risk; it is the most critical priority.

The engineer won. It wasn't even a contest.

With a mental command as sharp and decisive as a sword strike, Lloyd slammed his will into the purchase confirmation. "Confirm."

The System’s response was immediate and absolute. The number representing his balance cascaded downwards with terrifying speed, a hemorrhage of digital wealth. 700… 650… 600… 550… 500. The drain stopped, leaving a stark, lonely [200 FC] glowing in its wake. A part of him winced at the sight. It felt like he had just set a mountain of gold on fire.

But then, the fire ignited something new.

The icon for the [Automated Harvesting Protocol] erupted in a silent, brilliant explosion of golden light. It was a visual confirmation of a profound, foundational change. A triumphant chime, clear and pure as a crystal bell, resonated not in his ears, but directly within his soul. A new branch, glowing with untapped potential, sprouted from the main trunk of the Soul Farm's upgrade tree.

[NEW FUNCTION UNLOCKED: ECHO OF WILL]

The calm, synthetic voice of the Administrator, the guide for System 2.0, filled his consciousness. Its tone was, as always, devoid of emotion, but the information it delivered was the most revolutionary news he had heard since his reincarnation.

[Purchase confirmed. Automated Harvesting Protocol - Stage 1 has been successfully installed. The Echo of Will function is now operational. This protocol will enable the creation of a semi-sentient, automated harvester, designated as an 'Echo'. Stand by for initial calibration and tutorial.]

Chapter : 586

A slow, predatory grin spread across Lloyd’s face, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. The ghost of buyer’s remorse was exorcised, replaced by the exhilarating certainty of a genius who sees his grand design finally coming to fruition. He hadn't burned his gold; he had forged the key to the entire treasure vault.

[Initializing tutorial for Echo of Will Protocol,] the Administrator stated. [This function allows for the manifestation of a semi-sentient construct derived from a psychic and spiritual template of the User. This construct is a non-combat entity, optimized for repetitive task execution.]

Lloyd listened with the focused intensity of a general receiving critical intelligence. Every word was a new parameter, a new piece of the strategic puzzle.

"Elaborate on 'non-combat' and its operational limitations," Lloyd spoke into the quiet air of the Farm, testing the verbal interface of System 2.0.

The response was instantaneous. [The Echo of Will lacks the capacity for adaptive strategy, creative thought, or high-level combat maneuvering. It cannot wield Transcended-level abilities or perform complex, multi-stage actions beyond its core programming. Its purpose is singular: to execute a pre-assigned, repetitive task with perfect, machine-like efficiency. Think of it as a biological drone, not a true clone.]

A drone. The word was music to his ears. He didn't need another warrior with a personality to manage. He needed a tireless, uncomplaining, perfectly obedient worker. This was better. This was cleaner.

"Energy source and operational duration?" he asked, probing for the inevitable catch.

*[The Echo draws its sustenance energy directly from the ambient spiritual and dimensional matrix of the Soul Farm itself,] *the Administrator explained. [There is no continuous drain on the User's personal reserves. The initial manifestation requires a nominal, one-time expenditure of will to establish the psychic link, but subsequent operation is self-sufficient. The operational cycle is ten hours of continuous function, synchronized to Primary Reality Time, followed by a two-hour automated recalibration period.]

No energy drain. Ten hours a day, every day, without fail. Lloyd’s mind spun with the possibilities. He could be at the Academy, in a business meeting, sleeping, even fighting for his life, and all the while, his silent worker would be here, tirelessly harvesting coins, fueling his growth. The implications were staggering. It was the ultimate force multiplier.

[Furthermore, all resources, experience points, and Farming Coins generated by the Echo are instantly and directly credited to the User's primary account in real-time. There is no loss or delay.]

It was a perfect, closed loop of passive income. He felt a giddy, almost hysterical laugh bubble up in his chest. All that mind-numbing grinding, all that soul-crushing boredom, had paid for this. It had paid for his own personal, perpetual-motion engine of power.

A new interface, sleek and efficient, materialized in his mind's eye. It was the control panel for his new toy.

[ECHO OF WILL - COMMAND INTERFACE]

[STATUS: DORMANT]

[ASSIGN TASK: (INPUT REQUIRED)]

[COMMAND: MANIFEST]

The time had come. His grand experiment was ready to begin.

With the command interface glowing in his mind, Lloyd turned his focus to the first, most crucial step: programming the task. The [ASSIGN TASK] field pulsed with a soft light, awaiting his input.

This wasn't a matter of typing words. The System was more sophisticated than that. It required him to project a concept, a complete package of intent, memory, and methodology. He closed his eyes and summoned the memory of the grind, but this time, he viewed it with the detached eye of an engineer analyzing a process.

He replayed the entire sequence. The manifestation of the thin, herding chains. The specific pattern of their movement to corral the slimes into an optimal cluster. The precise, minimal energy signature of the lightning jolt required for dissolution, calculated to be just enough to kill the slimes without wasting a single drop of power. He recalled the rhythm, the timing, the entire, monotonous ballet.

Then, he stripped it of all human context. He removed the boredom, the frustration, his own physical presence. What was left was a pure, cold, logical algorithm. A perfect, repeatable loop of action and result. He bundled this refined concept—this "Task Protocol"—and pushed it with his will into the waiting interface.

A soft chime acknowledged the input.

[Task Protocol Received: 'Slime Cull - Low Energy Method'. Analyzing viability… Analysis complete. Protocol is stable and within the Echo's operational parameters. Ready for psychic imprinting upon manifestation.]

The System had accepted his programming. The die was cast.