Huang Yueying kneels in the dirt, green eyes narrowed as she fixates on a broken part. She wipes her hand on a rag, removing the sweat and grime that have accumulated, before carefully adjusting a screw, removing the broken piece and swapping it for a new one within her toolbelt. This juggernaut had performed admirably in the last battle, but they must always be maintained, and she’s the best at doing it.
Just the other day, she’d listened in on a strategy meeting with the front-line generals and soldiers. Listening to those who fight on the frontlines was actually very productive. I achieved a better understanding of what is required for battle. The ideas I've received from these few days will decide the direction my inventions will now take. She muses to herself, contemplating alterations for her work, already thinking of the notes and diagrams she’ll make when she returns to her quarters tonight. She’s eager to share them with her husband-- he’ll be supportive, as always.
She lightly taps the metal of the tiger-shaped tank, testing out the fire-breathing mechanism. It lets out a pitiful puff of smoke, and she scowls, furrowing her brow and resting her hands on her hips. Seems as if something else is broken.
