A Wise Man Inhales the Fine Mist

"Tsk." Ji Jue was speechless. An old bastard who had been famous for so many years really was as cunning as they came—to say nothing of a Grandmaster whose standing in the Profound branch rivaled that of a great master. A single glance from him had been more accurate than a background check! Under these circumstances, at this exact moment, Ji Jue could not even be bothered to resist. Glancing at the old bastard's monocle, he sprawled flat on his back like a starfish. "Just kill me!" "It would be a pity to kill you," Kanemoto replied. "Far better to put the waste to good use. You could consider it the proper path for an Ember." To be fair, he was right. To the Embers, a Celestial Chosen was a treasure from head to toe. And for an old bastard of Stagnant Rot like Kanemoto, moral baselines did not even exist. Flesh, bone, and soul aside, Masterwork Nature and Primacy of Mind were both exceptionally rare goods, not to mention an out-of-print Non-Offensive. Ending him with a single stroke really would be an egregious waste. Just as Ji Jue braced himself to fight to the bitter end, Kanemoto waved his hand. A massive pile of materials clattered down from midair like rain, completely burying him. Only his propped-up head poked out. He was utterly bewildered. Kanemoto pointed at the furnace. "Process all of this within the time limit." *Process?* Ji Jue was so furious he almost laughed. *Process my ass!* *I came here as an undercover operative. If I die, I die, but you expect me to work overtime for you?!* *Keep dreaming!* Ji Jue snorted coldly. "And what if I say no?" *Bang!* He flew backward. Without warning or sign, spiritus wove together in midair, circuits overlapping into a spike that drove straight through his throat, pinning him to the floor. Then it vanished without a trace. Only a tight, chilling chain of runic links surfaced on his neck. It clamped down on body and soul, shackling blessing and matrix. In an instant, it took total control. It was like a blade pressed against Ji Jue's throat, ready to claim his life anytime, anywhere. "Over the years, people have called me the Baleful Furnace of Stagnant Rot. On one hand, it's mockery because I can never match Tianlu; on the other hand, it's an acknowledgment that I truly excel at tailoring instruction to the student." Kanemoto cast his eyes down, glancing at him. "I always have methods for disobedient apprentices. Would you like to try them?" "I surrender!" Ji Jue threw up his hands without hesitation. "Embers is short-sighted! The path of Stagnant Rot is vastly superior and profound! I'm leaving the dark to step into the light! I gladly welcome Great Evil! Just one problem—I can't even stand right now..." He asked tentatively, "Could I trouble you to return my crutches?" "You mean those two half-finished products?" Kanemoto's smile grew even more derisive. "Is that blade not enough for you? Besides, don't you have Non-Offensive at hand? Make one yourself." "Hey, my defection to Evil comes straight from the heart!" Ji Jue's heart tightened, but his smile grew even more fawning. "Under your watchful eye, how could an ant like me stir up any trouble? Why be so guarded?" "You won't try resisting?" Kanemoto suggested warmly. "Who knows? Maybe I like tough bones." Ji Jue shook his head decisively. "Perish the thought! A good bird chooses a tree to roost in, and a wise man inhales the fine mist! Being able to work like an ox and a horse here for you is a blessing I couldn't earn in countless lifetimes!" Growing more agitated as he spoke, he thumped his chest until it made hollow thudding sounds. "I love it, I love it to the absolute extreme!" "Excellent. I'm starting to like you too." Kanemoto gave him one last look and turned to leave. "Keep it up. I look forward to your counterattack." *Counterattack your mother!* Ji Jue rolled his eyes and flopped onto his back. Done for. Completely screwed! The worst-case scenario in his plans had materialized: he was exposed right under Kanemoto's nose. Workshops, workshops, workshops... Why did every artisan dream of building their own workshop day and night? Inside their own workshop, an artisan was omnipotent! And an ant in a workshop, no matter how small, was still inside the workshop. It was fine when the owner was not paying attention, but once discovered, flattening or kneading that ant into any shape took merely a thought. Ji Jue had never held any illusions. Even when pulling tricks right under the old bastard's nose, he had only one chance—when the man wasn't watching. Originally, he had planned to use this opportunity to bring down Cunling, then find another chance to attach himself to an artisan, ideally getting close to the Celestial Rail Engine. He had never anticipated that Kanemoto would be so vigilant. The moment he caused a stir, his cover was blown entirely. He had won the plan, but lost himself. Yet the fortunate blessing amidst misfortune was that he had not been tossed into a dungeon cell to await a grotesque death, nor had he been hacked to pieces into character fragments and sent to an assembly line. Instead, Kanemoto had leashed him under his own watchful eye... It had a certain beauty to it, like a gorgeous undercover investigator infiltrating a sweatshop. Facing vicious criminals, her cover was accidentally blown, and the only fate awaiting her was... wait, being chained to an assembly line and working until death? Wasn't there something wrong with this plot? Was that what anyone wanted to see?! And what kind of trick was old bastard Kanemoto actually playing? What was the point? Why bother playing mind games with a nobody like him? It couldn't be that he actually intended to take him on as an apprentice, right? Just thinking about it made Ji Jue nearly laugh at himself. For now, although he was trapped, he did not have to worry about being skinned, bled, and turned into canned meat on the assembly line. Even though Kanemoto's scan had stripped him bare, still... Hadn't there been things the old bastard failed to spot? Sorting through the materials on the floor, he raised his eyelids slightly, his peripheral vision drifting toward the corner. President sat crouched there, lazily raising a paw and licking it. Ji Jue's watch still hung from its collar. Waiting quietly. Ji Jue's gaze swept past and looked elsewhere before pulling back. *Playing cat and mouse, are we?* *Be careful, old man, or the mouse you look down on might bite off your ear.* He drew a deep breath, ignored the piercing agony in his legs, leaned against the wall to stand, and shuffled step by step toward the material repository. A mouse's top priority was to fashion himself a pair of crutches. Kanemoto was even more generous than he had expected. At the same time, he was far stronger than he had imagined. The interior and exterior of the fourth floor were entirely different worlds. The outside was at most a workshop floor, but the interior seemed like a world crafted by Kanemoto himself. Separated by a single doorway, pushing it open revealed tier upon tier of shelves stretching so deep into the distance that the end could not be seen. Materials of every kind were organized and cataloged, continuing all the way to the limit of Ji Jue's perception. Turning around to push open another door, within an empty void of space, a flicker of flame swayed in midair, burning silently without radiating the slightest warmth. Ji Jue stood outside the warning line and shut the door with an impassive face. That was an Annihilation Furnace. Opening yet another door revealed a valley shrouded in relentless storm, thunder, and rain. A blurry silhouette strolled within. Sensing Ji Jue's gaze, it seemed to glance back, only to quickly look away and trudge deeper into the mist. Ji Jue shut the door, abandoning any further thought of exploring. A workshop forged from the accumulated blood and sweat of who knew how many generations of artisans was practically a fully realized independent domain. God only knew how many bizarre monstrosities Kanemoto had crammed inside. If opening a door rolled a Godzilla, that would be hilarious. When he looked down, he saw an afterimage standing behind him, faint and insubstantial like a phantom. Its features were indiscernible, merely waiting in silence, observing from the sidelines. Ji Jue pondered for a moment and pointed at the phantom. "You, go cook me a couple of dishes." The phantom did not react. With a sharp slap, two packets of compressed ration biscuits plummeted from above, hitting the floor alongside a complimentary bottle of water. *Cooked dishes?* *Dream on!* Ji Jue thought again and said, "Find me some crutches." Instantly, several steel rods dropped from above, their cut edges still rough with burrs, clattering loudly against the floor before him. *Oh, so whatever I want, I have to make it myself, huh?* "You think you can fool me with this little?" Ji Jue frowned. "Rubber." *Smack!* A solid block of rubber slapped against his face, clearly conveying the message: *that's enough out of you.* To be expected of a Grandmaster's workshop—it even had artificial intelligence? Ji Jue let out a dry chuckle and said no more. Backed by the dual support of Non-Offensive and Masterwork Nature, a wheelchair took shape within just a few minutes. Although it lacked a motor and could not move automatically, he even built a suspension system into it. Pity that with limited conditions, the armrests were too narrow to fit two shotguns... Ji Jue spun around in the wheelchair with a faint creak before returning to the hall. He sorted through the pile of materials. They were common substances fostered by Quancheng's corrupted environment—utter contaminants to Association artisans, but excellent aids for the corrupted transmutations of the Stagnant Rot branch. Based on material properties and spiritus characteristics, Ji Jue could roughly discern the functions of some of them. Soon, however, his brows furrowed. "You just said to process the materials, but what about the specifications? The requirements? Diced or cubed? Isn't this just messing with me? Not even a single blueprint—how do you expect a worker to do his job?" The phantom stood motionless. With a snap, a requisition sheet materialized out of thin air. Unbothered by his probing or his peek into Kanemoto's lineage, two manuals detailing material processing workflows and requirements dropped right into Ji Jue's lap before he even asked. Following that were two foundational theoretical analyses on crafting corrupted constructs, and even a brick-sized volume titled *Comprehensive Theory and Foundational Treatise on Corrupted Transmutation*. *Thud!* Before Ji Jue could react, it slammed into his stomach like a clean, solid punch! Finally, an alarm clock was placed before him. A four-hour countdown began ticking. The message was simple and direct. Four hours. If you haven't mastered the basics and finished the job in four hours, we're going to have some real fun. "What is the meaning of this?! Who forces people into a life of crime like this?!" Ji Jue flew into a rage. Holding the introductory primer on corrupted alchemy, a chill washed over him in his fury, making him tremble all over as tears fell unbidden: *I am a legitimate Association artisan apprentice, the heir to Fluid Alchemy, an unstained Celestial Chosen of the Embers! Do I really need to learn this filthy crap of yours? I'm tainted, I'm tainted now... Huh, wait, this passage is actually pretty interesting. The annotations are remarkably sharp. The old ghost actually has some real skill...* Before he realized it, he had already cracked the book open. *Oh no, I can't control myself! Brother Embers, save me, my body is moving on its own! You can't blame me... this is force majeure! Old bastard Kanemoto must have done this!* With a face full of disgust, Ji Jue leaned in close, reading word by word, line by line. *Well, since I'm already here...* *If I don't learn something, wouldn't this whole trip be a waste?!* *** Three hours, forty minutes, fifty-one seconds. All the materials were processed and presented before Kanemoto, who had suddenly appeared. His emerald eyes swept over them, and his finger waved dismissively. "Passable, acceptable, passable... These few are all right. The rest are garbage. Redo them. Half an hour." "Half an hour?" Ji Jue glared in outrage. "I've only been studying for two damn hours! I haven't even finished the books! Where in the world does this kind of logic exist? Don't make things impossible!" "You know best how long you dawdled." Kanemoto remained expressionless. "Fail, and I sever one of your fingers." "..." Ji Jue fell silent. After a long pause, he tossed the book aside and let out a helpless sigh. "Why bother, Grandmaster?" he advised earnestly. "Save yourself the trouble and just kill me. Letting a menace like me live might make me a thorn in your side down the road." Hearing this, Kanemoto glanced at him, his indifferent expression finally shifting slightly, as though looking at a clown. "Rest assured. If the day comes when you are fortunate enough to become a thorn in my side, I'll be thrilled beyond measure." "Well said! Brilliantly said! So grand it makes the Embers croak!" Ji Jue clapped in heartfelt admiration. "Still, with so many blights in this world, why don't you unify the Profound right now and charge up to the Association? Slaughter those three bullshit great masters—kill the Carrion Eater first, wipe out the Plowsmith second, and finally scatter Tianlu's ashes to the wind to prove your absolute supremacy among the Embers! Wouldn't that be magnificent? "Why stoop to mingling with vermin like the Evil Transmutation Cult? Why waste your time here? "Hmm?" Ji Jue leaned on the armrest of his wheelchair and probed curiously, "Could it be that you just don't like to?" It had likely been countless years since anyone possessed the audacity to utter such preposterous words to Kanemoto's face. Even if Kanemoto flew into a rage the next second and whipped out a brass-buckled belt to spin him like a top, it would not have been surprising. Yet to Ji Jue's surprise, Kanemoto remained calm, completely unfazed, and merely asked in return: "How do you know I haven't tried?" In that instant, Ji Jue froze. He stiffened on the spot. Because right before his eyes, Kanemoto grinned, raised his hand, and with absolute familiarity, peeled his own face away. Upon that mask-like face, the mocking expression remained. Yet beneath the mask, the skull beneath revealed harrowing gashes, abyssal fractures, and ribbons of curse-light coiled tightly around it. Beneath the human shell, everything seemed to have been hollowed out. The soul temporarily residing within was scarred and tormented, shifting constantly, unveiling its true visage. "The study of life is vast and profound, boy. You still have a long way to go." Upon the reassembled countenance, a meaningful, derisive smile surfaced as he offered a final reminder: "You have twenty-five minutes left." The phantom appeared behind Kanemoto. Holding a cigar cutter in its hands, it displayed it. *Snip, snip.* The countdown began...