Amid flames and dense smoke, the apprentices fled in all directions.
Accompanied by a deafening roar, the regenerated monster shrieked at the top of its lungs, greedily gorging on the aberrant pollution drifting through the air, voraciously seizing every life within its reach.
Growing once more!
Yet within those massive bloodshot eyes flickered a tiny trace of confusion...
Why did it feel as though everything before it had changed in the blink of an eye?
It still seemed like a workshop, but not that workshop. There still seemed to be many people, but not those people. It felt as though it had just opened its eyes, yet something in between seemed missing.
Right, right, right... No, no, no... Countless contradictions and clashes surfaced in that nonexistent little head of its. A mind blessed with reason might have pondered the puzzle, but caught amid such discord and conflict, it only grew all the more infuriated and savage.
Ravenously devour, rampage, grow!
Amid the scattering crowd, the only cripple with crippled legs and mobility issues remained seated at his workbench, leaning back comfortably.
Smiling, he patted President's dog head and watched the spirited swagger of his "old friend."
Yes—that was the very aberrant he had previously sealed away with Solid Alchemy back in the Association's Recycling and Disposal Department...
As the saying went: A welcome rain after a long drought; an old friend met in a foreign land...
In just a few short days, they had both moved from the Association's recycling department straight into the garbage dump of the Profound. The job was still the same job, the environment still the same environment, and you and I were still the same you and I.
Even if everything else had changed...
The twists and turns of fate were truly marvelous and unpredictable.
In the unseen workings of the universe, there was always a cycle at play...
"Good work."
Ji Jue shoved the handle of the toolbox under the bench into President's mouth, gave its dog head one last rub, and watched it slip silently away. "Just find a secluded spot to stash it."
Boom!
The ceiling collapsed, flames spreading.
The scattering apprentices wailed and cried out, only to scramble right back.
There was nowhere to run!
The instant the alarm sounded, the subterranean workshop was locked down with falling portcullises—exactly how one treated any sewer. Don't let the damn foul water back up to the surface.
Cut off the inside from the outside; seal in the catastrophe.
And so the apprentices could only sprint about in wretched terror, weeping and howling as they tried to play hide-and-seek with the aberrant.
Fortunately, the underground area was spacious enough, and there was plenty of scrap and edible matter around, so aside from the supervisor at the start and the apprentice who hadn't even known what was happening, no one else had died yet.
Amid the chaos, it wasn't that no one considered fighting back or banding together for mutual defense.
Unfortunately, it was utterly useless.
Scattered attacks only served to enrage the aberrant, while carefully prepared strikes accomplished nothing beyond blowing apart the outer shell of scrap metal.
Instead, it drew its attention to this swarm of insolent ants. Its savagery erupted. Flailing metal limbs pieced together from junk, it rampaged through the workshop, smashing assembly lines and workbenches, gnawing on containers, and devouring pollution by the whale-load.
Then, one by one, it impaled those overconfident little bugs upon its limbs.
Hoisting them high, it shook and tore them apart at will, taking massive gulps of blood and souls.
Its screeches grew increasingly shrill.
"——▇!!!"
"Don't be afraid, everyone! Attack together! Attack together!" a supervisor shouted, raising his arm while trembling all over. But it was useless; everyone was already scattered, completely routed.
Desultory, futile attacks kept coming—scattered bursts of bullets, energy beams, frost, and fireblasts.
Unfortunately, none of it could breach its defense.
Shrouded under the metal casing, the attacks were entirely ineffective. Even if an attack happened to slip through a seam, it couldn't damage the deeply enveloped core.
In the pandemonium, no one noticed the figure strolling around on crutches.
From time to time, Ji Jue bent over, picking up overturned components from the floor with seeming difficulty.
He assembled them in his hands.
Twisted springs, rusted iron sheets, sheared steel pipes... In his hands, they were like toy pieces, effortlessly fitted together. Under the operation and processing of Non-Offensive, they underwent metamorphosis and regeneration within the formless crucible. Repaired or machined, amid flying shavings, piece after piece shook off iron filings and slotted into place.
Firing pin, magazine follower, hammer, receiver, slide, grip...
Those reliable little companions came together once more, gradually taking on a crude, exaggerated silhouette. Heavy in the hand, and so very lovable.
Finally, with a thumb-thick round chambered—
Complete.
Ji Jue let out a whistle.
Professor Ye had once told him that in terms of cruelty and ruthlessness, the Path of Embers and the Path of the White Stag were essentially one and the same.
The dominion and rule of superiors over inferiors was absolute; only one relied on theory and ability, while the other relied on violence and intimidation...
The Path of Embers was so exalted and profound that he wouldn't dare claim mastery, but on the Path of the White Stag, having personally experienced the struggle for gang leadership, he did possess some modest insights.
As the saying went: Every radish has its hole. Sometimes, if the folks at the top didn't vacate their spots, how could those below ever have room to advance?
Smiling, he looked toward the panicked Sun Ci in the crowd.
Time for your big performance, Supervisor Sun!
"Out of the way! Get out of the way!"
Sun Ci flailed in panic as he tried to activate the containment and suppression system, but the console sputtered with a burst of electric sparks, plunging him deeper into despair.
A short circuit? Now?!
His vision went dark. Then he heard screams and chaos breaking out right beside him.
Amid howling gales, the apprentices scattered in a frenzy.
And when he turned around, he saw the aberrant charging straight at him. Countless bloodshot eyes stared fixedly, ravenous and ferocious, brandishing fangs and claws.
Terror struck without warning. Before he could even process it, he reflexively drew his gun and squeezed the trigger repeatedly—useless. All his rounds missed.
With a grief-stricken face, he threw the pistol aside and grabbed whatever was nearby to hurl at it.
Regrettably, it was utterly futile.
In the midst of his panic, someone shoved a gun into his hands. He reflexively raised his arm, as if his body were manipulated by an invisible will. With sudden inspiration, he aimed, and then, purely on instinct, pulled the trigger.
In that instant—
BOOM!!!!!
An unimaginable, horrific blast erupted from his hands. The deafening rumble echoed through the subterranean workshop, savaging everyone's eardrums. And right in his grip, the crudely cobbled pistol shattered into pieces—it had blown up.
Waves of agonizing pain tore through his arm, which felt nearly broken.
Yet he didn't even have time to scream.
Because a piercing screech erupted right in front of him...
The grotesque aberrant that had been charging at full tilt let out a sudden shriek of agony. Its limbs lost all strength, and it collapsed to the floor, sliding forward on sheer momentum as it convulsed.
On its massive frame, a razor-sharp leg came to an abrupt halt, stopping inches before Sun Ci's pale face.
Just a hair's breadth away...
Immediately afterward, a torrential deluge of viscous fluid erupted from its chest cavity like a downpour.
From within the ruptured thorax, the core slid out like an internal organ, marked by a massive fissure. That monstrous, giant eye glared fixedly at Sun Ci as cracks spread across it, but in its final moments, it turned to look past him—into the shadows behind Sun Ci, toward one of the apprentices.
It wailed, dissipated, and was no more.
"D-Dead?"
Sun Ci tumbled to the floor and scrambled backward on hands and knees for a long distance before his brain sluggishly registered what had happened. He stared at the lifeless aberrant, then turned his head blankly, only to see row upon row of equally stunned faces.
Shock, bewilderment, awe, fear, envy.
And so, a realization finally began to dawn on him.
He looked down at the remnant grip still clutched in his hand.
"Me?"
Sun Ci murmured in disbelief. His mouth twitched, and he could no longer suppress a grin. "It was me?"
"Yeah, it was you."
Ji Jue nodded and stated emphatically, "I saw it with my own eyes! Supervisor Sun fired a single shot, and that giant aberrant dropped dead on the spot!"
"Yes, that's right!"
"It was you!"
"Supervisor Sun is incredible!"
Cheers and praises rang out, one after another without pause.
The numerous apprentices who had survived the catastrophe breathed sighs of relief. In sheer ecstasy, they swarmed around Sun Ci, cheering and shouting.
A jubilant atmosphere filled the room.
As for the mangled corpses and gradually cooling blood in the corners, nobody cared.
"Does this interfere with the upcoming work?"
Three minutes later, a craftsman from the upper levels arrived in haste. He swept a glance across the wrecked scene and frowned, asking that question first and foremost. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, he breathed a slight sigh of relief.
It was only a ruptured crucible; a quick repair would fix it, and all other damage could be restored.
As for casualties, they were of no concern whatsoever.
"Please sit, please have a seat, Lord Cunling. Have a seat," the surviving supervisors hurriedly brought over a chair, inviting the arriving craftsman to take a seat.
None of them had expected such an exalted figure to grace them with his presence.
The tension that had slackened after narrowly surviving catastrophe snapped taut once more. They were on pins and needles, terrified of the slightest slip-up.
As Kanemoto's second disciple and the direct manager of internal affairs, the craftsman reverently addressed as "Cunling" paid no heed to their fawning.
With his hands behind his back, he took a lap around the workshop and quickly pieced together the cause and progression of events.
Upon hearing that the head supervisor was already dead, his expression grew increasingly grim. "Useless trash. Death is too good for him!"
With a single glance, he had deduced the cause: in a rush to meet quotas, take credit, and skim profits off the top, the man hadn't even properly filtered and stored the corrupted spiritus. Then, amid the dismantling and clearing of all that scrap, such an enormous aberrant had managed to hatch in just a few short days...
It was fortunate the thing had no brains; otherwise, if it had lurked in hiding for a while longer, who knew what sort of massive disaster it might have caused?
If the Master were alerted and came down to demand accountability...
Just thinking about the consequences made Cunling's face turn livid.
And yet that piece of trash had simply died? Died so easily? Damn it, he got off far too lightly! Which bastard recommended him for the head supervisor post in the first place?
Seeing Cunling's darkened expression, a craftsman who had rushed down behind him blanched slightly and instinctively backed away a few paces, not daring to utter a word.
Cunling cast a smiling glance toward the crowd, saying nothing.
His footsteps paused. He looked down, pinched the bullet embedded in the wreckage between his fingers, and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Fascinating.
Chapter 224