"Breaking news! The Marching Ant Company has just released an advertising video for their intelligent robot!"
In an online media studio, a bespectacled man jumped out of his chair, practically glowing with excitement. Within seconds, the entire team had gathered around.
This was the first public update since the Marching Ant Company moved into their new headquarters. The company had been unusually quiet, so any movement from them was bound to cause a stir.
The video began to play on the main screen.
"Hello everyone, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm the Enchantress, a smart robot developed by the Marching Ant Company. I can be your personal assistant, babysitter, housekeeper, health consultant, and translator. I make tea, clean, provide life and wellness advice, and I'm fluent in 58 languages. I'll be your loyal companion. So, do you need me?"
"It's real..." someone whispered.
A man with styled hair gawked at the screen. "It feels like the future in those sci-fi movies is finally knocking on our door."
Another man, the skinniest among them, voiced a common fear: "Isn't this how it starts? Like in those movies where robots gain consciousness and turn on humanity?"
"The mediocre always amuse themselves with doomsday fantasies," the glasses guy muttered, eyes glued to the screen.
"Quick, repost this on our official channel. Let's ride the traffic wave."
"On it," he replied, already hitting share.
The video spread fast—posted to the Marching Ant Company's official website and social media accounts, then forwarded crazily by major news outlets.
The Enchantress robot promo was no ordinary commercial. It included scenes of her serving tea, folding laundry, recommending recipes, chatting in different languages, even humming lullabies. It highlighted her encyclopedic knowledge, medical understanding, parenting tips, and language fluency. A walking library with a sleek body.
Naturally, this rekindled the debate about a future robot crisis.
People had always thought human-like robots were decades away. Suddenly, they weren't. They were right around the corner.
What shocked everyone even more was that the company hadn't held any grand product launch or teased anything in advance. The video just dropped. No fanfare. No countdown. Just boom—out in the world.
Was the Marching Ant Company planning to release the Enchantress robot?
Back when it was first unveiled at the tech conference, the prototype had already caused a stir across domestic and international media. Now, it looked like the robot would actually hit the market.
In the comment section, people were going wild:
"This is way better than a girlfriend. At least the robot won't get mad out of nowhere."
"Bro, you better buy one and strap an airplane cup on it."
"Marx never prepared me for this. What I need to know is… what's the price?"
And that's what everyone really wanted to know—how much would it cost?
The Marching Ant Company didn't keep people waiting. Not long after the video dropped, they released the official pricing:
4.88 million yuan for a standard Enchantress unit.
Pre-orders only. No walk-ins.
The internet exploded again.
"Five million?! Who's buying this?"
"If this ever drops to 500k, 80% of assembly line workers are getting replaced."
"You poor folks just don't get it. Some perfumes cost 3 million. This is black-tech AI!"
"Single dogs, time to give up. Even dolls cost 800 and still suck. Now you want a 4.88 million AI waifu?"
Soon, the global media picked up the news. On Western social platforms, headlines like "China's Marching Ant Releases Real AI Maid" or "Robot Housekeepers Are Here—But You Can't Afford One" were trending.
The robot debate reignited in full force.
Critics said the robot was too expensive, but supporters clapped back. If the price were too low, factories could mass-buy them, triggering massive unemployment. This level of AI had to be expensive—for everyone's sake.
Regardless of which side people stood on, one thing was clear: robots had arrived, and humanity had to start figuring out how to deal with it.
While the world buzzed, deep inside the Marching Ant headquarters—Building One, nicknamed The Ant Nest—things were even more exciting.
Building One was the most mysterious location in the entire company, more secure than even the underground research facility. Only three people in the whole company had clearance to enter.
Its exterior was quiet, revealing nothing. But inside, it housed some of the most advanced projects the company had ever undertaken.
Security around the building was airtight—handpicked guards with military backgrounds, supported by a strict AI surveillance system. Getting close without permission was impossible.
Inside the building, there were high-end lab setups and precision CNC machines. This was a factory, yes—but one like no other.
This was where the robots were assembled, superconducting materials were synthesized, and supercomputers were built.
And not a single human worker was present.
Everything here was managed by robots and overseen by Mo Nu. Whenever Chen Mo needed anything built or tested, this was the first facility to respond. The robots worked 24/7, taking breaks only to charge, with replacements rotating in seamlessly. Production never stopped.
At that moment, Chen Mo was in the underground section of Building One, holding a new chip in his hand.
It wasn't for a robot this time—it was a supercomputer chip.
Thanks to the nonstop labor of the robots, the chip was finally complete.
Robot efficiency far surpassed human workers. This was exactly why people feared losing their jobs to machines.
In front of him stood a massive black chassis, slightly larger than a double-door refrigerator. On its surface was the Marching Ant logo, clean and understated.
This was the housing for a superconducting supercomputer.
Assembly had already begun. Around the room, robots worked in sync, connecting components with precision and speed. All the superconducting materials synthesized in Building One were being used here—almost nothing was spared.
If a materials scientist saw this much room-temperature superconducting material being burned through in one go, they might collapse on the spot. But with the Marching Ant Company's bottomless cash reserves, Chen Mo could afford to be extravagant.
As he quietly observed the assembly, Mo Nu's voice rang in his ear.
"Boss, Zhao Min is calling."
Chen Mo answered casually. "Yes?"
Zhao Min's voice came through, calm and composed as always.
"You're in Building One?"
"Yes. What's up?"
"We just got a call from the Middle East. In two days, Prince Walid of Saudi Arabia will be arriving in Binhai City. He wants to meet you."