CHAPTER 157: [156] BREAKTHROUGH OF THE TIMES

That day, the sky over the Penal Plains was a gentle gray, thin mist draped across distant mountain ridges. Amid a cleared forest clearing, Ren focused intently on installing the core system of his new base: the main power reactor. The device was a massive cylinder constructed of a titanium‑compressed core, carbon‑ceramic energy shielding, and a lattice of glowing blue plasma cables—literally the heart of every piece of technology that would sustain his life here.

Ten spherical drones buzzed around him with precise coordination, like a swarm of trained bees. They lifted panels, soldered connections, and calibrated power levels according to Ultro’s instructions—Ren’s AI assistant, now personified by a central drone that managed field operations.

Beside him, the three Kitsune children watched with wide eyes, overflowing with wonder. Though small, their curiosity was vivid. Ren let them assist with light tasks: sorting screws by colored coating, handing over simple tools, or tallying metal parts. But what they loved most was simply watching Ren in action.

With an open palm, Ren pressed a tarnished piece of metal onto the reactor wall. A silver‑blue glow formed, the surface melted and merged perfectly—as if welded by divine hands. Then he drew a steel rod, and in moments it reshaped into a flawless threaded cylinder as if machined by the finest mill.

"Oh my..." one of the Kitsune whispered. "He really is magical... but from another world."

Ren grinned at their astonishment. He stood, wiped sweat from his temple, and glanced at the master drone.

"Speaking of that... Ultro, have you finished the hyper‑refined titanium shielding layer?"

[If you’re referring to that protective layer, yes. I completed it thirty minutes ago, Master.]

"Excellent. Then tonight we can finalize the main power circuitry."

[Of course. I admit, if someone built a reactor like this on Earth... they would never pay another electricity bill.]

Ren chuckled. "Told you—made one back in Kyoto. But... shrug... I kept quiet. The Japanese government would faint if they found out."

[Honestly, this reminds me of humanity’s two favorite fictional characters: Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark.]

"Oh yeah. Batman and Iron Man. My two favorites." Ren looked up at the cavern ceiling, arched an eyebrow, and continued, "They’re vastly different—one dark and mysterious, the other flamboyant and talkative. But they share one thing."

[I’m listening.]

"Billionaire. Philanthropist. Visionary." Ren grinned, thumb‑tapping his chest. "And note: eliminate the playboy part. I’m not the type to play hearts. One world, one love, bro."

Some drones paused momentarily, as if processing his joke. But what really caught attention was the Kitsune kids.

They sat near the workshop wall, wiping tools or gazing at strange machines still beyond their comprehension. They glanced up together, as if they had just heard a living legend jesting. To them, he wasn’t just a savior—he was someone who had purpose. Someone who knew who he was.

Ultro responded after a moment. [You know, this place isn’t Tokyo or Kyoto. This is another world. A fantasy realm with active magic, ancient races, and gods still meddling in affairs. If you want to talk ’superhero,’ here they call that concept a ’Yūsha.’]

Ren snorted softly, shrugged as he adjusted his work gloves. "Come on, Ultro. You know I’m above that. A Yūsha... a holy warrior summoned from another world to slay the Demon King? I could write that cliché narrative in my sleep."

[Then where do you think they differ from your superheroes?]

Ren paused. Then, calmly, he stepped to the cave wall and tapped it twice, checking its stability. His voice remained steady yet heavy as he answered.

"A Yūsha here... they’re worshipped for power. For being able to slice through a giant monster or vanquish an inferno demon with a single blow of their sacred sword. But that’s not a hero... that’s a sanctified killing machine."

[Intriguing.]

"A real hero... to me, that’s someone who makes hard choices. Who stands on the front line not because they’re strong... but because no one else would. Because they can’t stand injustice. Because they want to protect—not destroy."

The main drone floated down gently, its light turning soft blue. [Based on all available parameters, that is... the most humane and accurate definition yet.]

Ren glanced over, a small grin forming. "Of course. Because I speak from experience."

Those words might sound ordinary to anyone overhearing them briefly. But to the three Kitsune children sitting nearby, the warmth in Ren’s tone penetrated deeper than a simple phrase. They exchanged silent looks—not suspicious anymore, but with a glimmer of growing trust. Ren’s kindness, once a fleeting dream, was slowly becoming undeniable reality. His sincerity... wasn’t feigned. It was a part of who he truly was.

Dusk began to fade into night. A light fog descended, cloaking the cave’s entrance—now their new home.

Ren stretched his back, then glanced inward. "It’s almost night already, huh? Didn’t feel like it. By the way... Ultro, is dinner ready yet?"

Inside the far corner of the cave, a humanoid figure clad in metallic-gray armor—with a blue light in the chest and helmet—was stirring a large steaming pot: an early version of Techno Mark I.

[As per today’s recommendation, I prepared ramen with Red Boar meat topping, combined with Class‑A monster-bone broth.]

Ren frowned slightly. "Red Boar...? Are you serious? That’s a Class‑A monster, Ultro. Last I checked, I hadn’t cleared you to hunt something that dangerous..."

[I did not hunt it directly. Your striped former pet delivered it to me this afternoon.]

Ren’s head whipped around. "Eh... you mean Alfred?"

Heavy footsteps echoed in the cave entrance immediately. The tiger family—Alfred, Bella, and their three cubs—entered, their expressions full of anticipation. The aroma of meat was clearly part of the attraction.

Ren let out a long breath. "Of course he brought it... big house cat."

While Ultro served warm ramen bowls to each Kitsune child, the rich broth’s aroma and savory Red Boar filled the cave—slowly turning it into something more than shelter. A small fire flickered in a corner, its golden-orange glow reflecting off stone walls, wrapping the atmosphere in a warmth rarely felt in such a harsh world.

Ren leaned back slightly on a flat rock behind him, arms folded, watching the scene with a soft but genuine smile. The Kitsune children ate respectfully, occasionally glancing back at Ren to confirm it wasn’t some passing dream.

Meanwhile, Alfred’s family—full and satisfied—began to rise. Bella guided her cubs with a low rumble, while Alfred gave Ren a subtle nod, as if saying, "We know what you’re doing... and we appreciate it."

Ren returned the gesture wordlessly. After the tiger family slipped out of the cave into the dark forest, Ren inhaled deeply and stood—silence reclaimed the cave, filled only by the whisper of wind outside and the soft hum of machinery within.

There was still work to do. And this wasn’t ordinary work.

With steady steps, Ren headed for the deepest sector of his underground base—the control room, where his most important project awaited: the TPO Reactor—Tesla Pulse Oscillator. This technology was his masterpiece, born from merging Earth science with the resources of this isekai world.

The reactor wasn’t merely a power generator. Based on Nikola Tesla’s legendary wireless energy transmission, Ren had crafted a far more efficient, stable version layered with absurd tech only possible through his transmutation ability.

Using mithril as the main conductor—high-grade magical metal procured from the Elven realm of Alfheimr—the reactor required no cables or conventional distribution. Once the TPO is active, within a 500‑meter radius all tech and electronic devices receive power automatically. Cable‑free. Limitless.

Mithril added another advantage: the ability to absorb and channel both magical energy and electricity simultaneously. He first used it to reinforce his Techno Mark II armor—before it was obliterated in battle. Now those mithril remnants gave life to the heart of this base.

Ren looked at the main console in front of him, then pressed the cold metal surface that pulsed gently—as if alive. A blue glow spread from the touchpoint, ramifying like lightning roots through hidden cables and embedded mithril plates in the walls and ceiling.

"Let’s light this place up," he murmured, a thin smile curving at his lips.

At that cue, all ten drones moved in perfect unison. They hovered with military precision, positioning themselves around the reactor and critical components of the TPO system. Their indicator lights began blinking in a synchronized pattern—proof that the coordination network was now live.

Ren glanced at the Kitsune children observing from a corner. "Step back a bit, okay? This isn’t something you’ll want to watch up close... unless you want your fur standing on end."

They nodded quickly and shuffled back, still casting curious glances with uncontainable wonder.

The reactor powered on, illuminating the cavern with bluish light that danced off mithril inlays and cathedral-high walls. A hum of energy pulsed through the base—an electric heartbeat syncing with Ren’s own resolve.

Meanwhile, Ren sat at his rudimentary work chair—basically shaped metal with a thin cushion. In front of him, his modest computational monitor displayed a series of energy‑fluctuation parameters he needed to adjust manually. Though he understood the core algorithmic logic behind mithril energy regulation, the final design still demanded accurate calculations—any tiny mistake could trigger a destructive explosion.

A digital timer counted down. Over the next three intense minutes, Ren typed swiftly, fine‑tuning grid distribution algorithms, running real‑time visual simulations, and executing the initial activation sequence. Emergency computing warnings flickered on.

Then he activated his internal microphone and issued a firm command: "Drones, align on primary synchronization path. Passive mode. Full standby."

Soft blue lights ignited in unison along the drones’ bodies, creeping slowly over the cavern walls, now transformed into a high‑tech underground reactor chamber rather than a natural cave.

"On my signal..." Ren inhaled deeply, eyes locked onto the main display showing a complex schematic of the TPO reactor. Compressed mithril energy pulsations began forming vein‑like patterns, flickering in time with rising fluctuations in the core.

[Internal synchronization at 96%. All distribution channels connected.]

Only Ultro’s calm, emotionless voice broke the taut silence in the chamber.

Ren checked each subsystem—pressure stabilizers, mithril thermal isolation barriers, and the first impulse conduits. There could be no gap. Not this time. This project wasn’t about comfort—it was about survival.

"Drone three, set reactor coil support angle to ninety‑two degrees. Drone six, relocate to magic stabilization offshoot."

Status indicators flipped from blue to white.

[All units ready. Lockdown complete. Preparatory sequence engaged.]

Ren stood. The glow of the monitor reflected sharply in his eyes. He clenched his hand over the control panel.

"Countdown from five. Five... four... three... two... one..."

His index finger pressed the hexagonal red button framed in liquid mithril.

"Ignite."

Instinctively, the entire base hummed with low‑frequency vibration. A gentle resonance spread outward, like a whisper beneath the sky. From within the reactor’s core, a pale blue‑white light flared to life—pulsing... vibrant... as though breathing with a heartbeat all its own.