Things were looking up—everything was getting better!
Everyone called the Mid-Continent a cesspool and a mud pit, but Ji Jue felt that ever since arriving here, everyone he met was either a good person or a "good person."
Good fortune had practically spoiled him rotten.
First came the Evil Transmutation Cult, kindly stepping up to seek justice for the wrongs he had suffered, followed by the overbearing CEO Brother Dugu footing the bill for Haian's ventures.
Just when things were settling down and everything lay waiting to be rebuilt, with no clear path to revitalization, Shehri laid down his life to generate demand for him. Immediately afterward, the Federation and the Desolate Market began shoveling money into his hands, sparing no expense...
Even when there was no market, people actively stepped up to create one for him!
Never mind how that market came to be—just tell him whether it was a market or not.
Who dared claim the Mid-Continent was a tiger's den and a dragon's lair? This was clearly a blessed treasure trove. Fine talent and flawless jade were everywhere, making money was ridiculously easy, and Ji Jue was growing quite reluctant to leave.
And while he was over here putting on a show of clearing out inventory with daily quotas for the Federation and the Desolate Market, Haian Tech was undergoing a period of frenzied local expansion.
Even the lighter factory that had started almost as a joke underwent a sudden metamorphosis, transforming overnight into a cutting-edge military manufacturing and maintenance base. Even that ridiculous unfinished building Dugu Ming had dumped on Ji Jue as a spiteful nuisance was now drawing praise from people admiring its natural simplicity and artless grandeur.
Don't ask—if you did, the answer was simply the Haian spirit!
Old Gou had gone mad.
What on earth was more unbearable than staring at piles of free cash and being unable to rake it in? Time—time is money, my friend!
As Ji Jue's representative, sparks were practically flying from the soles of his feet over the past two days. Bloodshot-eyed, he blazed trails through mountains and built bridges across waters.
When equipment was lacking, he had the Balance Chamber of Commerce rush an order. What the Balance Chamber of Commerce couldn't rush through, he flipped the natural order on its head and dragged his boss in to handle it.
When personnel were scarce, he acted decisively, going straight to the Star Core Association to teleport in a batch of core professionals at a wholesale price of a million a head.
When manual labor ran short, he went to the Church of Chongguang and hauled in workers by the truckload. They were trained on the spot, learning as they worked behind the mechanical arms controlled by the spirit of the Lord of the Flies, running on a twenty-four-hour, three-shift rotation.
Don't bother bringing up labor protection laws; no such thing existed here. Work on the assembly line for a month, and you were immediately given a motorized tricycle, a refrigerator, a generator, and an air conditioner. Last six months, and you were allocated housing. Sign a long-term contract, and you could even bring your family along... The impoverished souls in the slums, who had barely been clinging to life doing volunteer work behind the church, lost their minds. They lined up in droves to squeeze into the workshops, eager to chain themselves to the conveyor belts with their own hands.
Their morale was so soaring and their drive so rabid that even the scrappers from Haizhou broke into a sweat: "Just how much debt is this bro in? Why's he grinding like a mad dog?"
Some folks, upon hearing about the compensation, looked as if they had seen a ghost and ran back to ask Elder Longge: "Tell me the honest truth, Elder. Is Haian planning to sacrifice its workers for some dark witchcraft or wicked ritual? Why else would they offer something this insane?"
With the Church of Chongguang's reputation as a guarantee, and relying on their screening to gather a batch of workers who still harbored a hunger to change their destiny, the local branch of Haian Industry sprang into motion with furious momentum.
Tacheng, seemingly desolate, had unexpectedly entered a period of unprecedented prosperity.
Under the bleeding-dry investments and stockpiling from both the Empire and the Federation, even the artisans were swamped. Around Tacheng, workshops of all sizes were running at full capacity, barely keeping up with market demand and consumption.
Because of this, all the surplus shares, unaccepted commissions, impossible deadlines, and backlogged orders were swallowed up entirely by Ji Jue alone.
A workshop that didn't even have a registered name yet had somehow devoured over forty percent of Tacheng's market share in one gulp, guaranteeing both quality and volume, with preferential wholesale pricing to boot.
Even if these were just low-end consumable orders requiring little technical sophistication, they still made countless peers burn with jealousy, clawing at their chests in restless, sleepless frustration.
Speechless.
What else could they say?
Ji Jue's alchemy bullets were being hauled out by the truckload every single day. The daytime trucks headed for the Federation base, while the nighttime trucks rolled into the Desolate Market's warehouses.
Shaban had even pulled out a thick catalog of raw materials, letting Ji Jue pick and choose at will—as long as he could deliver the goods, everything was on the table.
His appetite was terrifyingly vast, suggesting he might be acting as a secondhand middleman. As for who was footing Shaban's bill, who else in the entirety of Tacheng had such deep pockets besides the Federation? Ji Jue didn't know, nor did he care.
Liquidating inventory in exchange for Blessings and materials, within just a few short days, Masterwork Nature, Primacy of Mind, and Sovereign Axis—all prepared for Isis—were in place. Ji Jue had even managed to rake in half a sequence of the Shocking Terror Blessing as a bonus.
It was rare to find dupes willing to pay like this, not only clearing out his inventory but also letting him trade consumables like alchemy bullets for Blessings and materials.
A chance like this came once in a blue moon; anyone who didn't seize the moment to cash in immediately would be a certified moron.
Besides, what kind of artisan didn't smuggle in their own private payload?
Concealed under his craftsmanship and Three-Phase Alchemy, he packed copious amounts of the Lord of the Flies' remnant spirits into the bullets. The instant they triggered on a wolf, Ji Jue would know even earlier than the headquarters on either side.
Either way, Ji Jue had been smiling in his sleep these past few days, laughing himself silly in his dreams.
Toward Shehri, he felt only blessings and gratitude.
Hang in there, big bro lackey of the Sower!
You must stay alive a little longer and stir up an even bigger storm!
Just like that, day after day, the good times rolled in.
*BOOM!!!*
Upon the desolate, windswept street, amidst a deafening roar, countless bricks and stones burst outward in the shockwave. A pillar of flame shot into the sky, and amidst piercing sirens, devastation littered the ground.
Raging flames had already swallowed the armored vehicle, thick black smoke billowing from its burning chassis. Not far away, a wall had collapsed, and agonized screams echoed endlessly.
"How the hell are we supposed to survive these godforsaken days?!"
Reeling in dizzying disorientation, Liang Mo gasped violently. Darkness pulsed before his eyes, his ears rang incessantly, and curses spilled instinctively from his mouth, yet he couldn't even hear his own voice.
What happened?
He struggled to remember, trying to recall where he was.
An escort mission, guarding key officials of the provisional government en route to the official residence. And then, while waiting, it seemed a teammate had reached out to tease a... a stray dog passing by to take a leak?
And then?
And then the stray dog exploded.
Along with the explosives packed inside its belly.
A payload sufficient to blast their entire squad straight to kingdom come had failed to achieve its purpose—amidst a sharp, ear-splitting sound, right in front of the blast, the Riot Cat holding up its massive shield and metallic foam was battered beyond recognition.
In the very first instant, before anyone else could react, it had kicked the stray dog away, violently dragged the armored off-road vehicle in front of them, and sprayed a deluge of metallic foam across its body, blocking the vast majority of the air pressure and shockwave.
Now, amid grating friction, it struggled to turn its head. The familiar emoticons were gone from its shattered display, replaced only by a continuous spew of sparks and black smoke.
It raised a hand and gave him a thumbs-up.
Liang Mo had no time to respond. Raising his rifle, he scanned the surroundings on high alert.
He reported the situation over the radio. Only after backup arrived and confirmed there were no snipers nearby did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.
"Good job, pup. I owe you one again!"
Limping, he escorted the Riot Cat onto Haian Industry's maintenance transport vehicle, patting its metal plating. "Seriously, after you retire, want to come back with me and open a diner? I'll sell boxed lunches to take care of you, how about it? If you don't say anything, I'll take that as a yes!"
The massive metal hand twitched, rose, and flipped him the middle finger.
"Which idiot taught you that?!"
Liang Mo's face turned green. "Don't let me catch whoever did it!"
Instantly, everyone around burst into hearty laughter.
They were utterly delighted.
Before long, a brand-new Riot Cat leapt down from the maintenance truck. Amidst cheers, the cat emoticon lit up on its head display, and it gave everyone a thumbs-up once again.
Back to full health!
After the engineers inside the truck confirmed the black box, including the motherboard, remained undamaged, they simply swapped it for a spare chassis from the vehicle. A body damaged to this degree held no repair value; it would be taken back and scrapped immediately.
With the military footing the bill anyway, there was no need to pinch pennies. And for the military, spending such chump change to prevent the loss of an entire elite squad was an incredible bargain—pension payouts alone would have cost far more!
The only pity was that after swapping to a new chassis, all the paint jobs and decorations everyone had applied were lost and had to be repainted.
Then again, everyone was sick of looking at the old graffiti anyway, and they were already rolling up their sleeves, eager to show off their artistic flair.
Even though high command repeatedly issued strict orders prohibiting scribbling on the issued Riot Cats, the graffiti persisted despite bans and grew increasingly rampant. The frontline conscripts had even started their own contests and voting polls.
Even the Riot Cats themselves seemed to enjoy it.
Over time, depending on their level of interaction and the squad's atmosphere, each cat gradually developed its own aesthetic and preferences. Some favored 3D airbrushed murals, some liked anime characters, some preferred bikini-clad furries... and some liked having swear words painted on their bodies, so whenever something went wrong, they would just point a finger at the curse words and consider the scolding delivered.
After a brief adjustment period, they integrated seamlessly into the teams. After all, who wouldn't love an assistant who was clever, obedient, capable of saving your life at critical moments, and could carry a refrigerator or fetch a cold soda whenever you wanted?
Beyond patrols, guard duty, and maintaining order, this astonishing capacity for learning manifested in all sorts of areas. Word was that under the tutelage of thoroughly bored soldiers, some cats had already begun learning vehicle maintenance.
No matter how resistant or dismissive a soldier had initially been, after spending some time with one, they all had to admit: this little gizmo is damn useful.
It was practically the military's only piece of genuinely good equipment in recent years.
Now on the streets of Tacheng, Riot Cats were a common sight, walking alongside Federal patrol units on alert. Even the locals had grown accustomed to these hulking figures that possessed no lethal capability and carried no weapons.
When accidents or traffic mishaps occurred, they would even lend a helping hand in passing.
Safe and harmless.
The simple-minded cat spirits followed behind humans, quietly gazing upon this cruel world as they threw themselves into the most dangerous tasks of explosive ordnance disposal and hazardous area sweeps.
Amidst greetings of bullets and explosions, they gradually learned, gradually grew familiar.
In stark contrast to the cats' eternal cheerfulness, every bottom-tier laborer and frontline conscript from the Federation to the Empire was exhausted to the point of collapse, utterly sick of life.
Yet even with the Riot Cats, maintaining public order in Tacheng remained an increasingly troublesome and disgusting chore.
Some messes could be ignored if you simply chose not to look. But if you were foolish enough to dig into them, there would be no end.
It was like a newly hired programmer forced to wade through a mountain of crap code left behind by waves of predecessors, or a sanitation worker staring at an endless landfill.
All the sins committed by everyone before you had to be paid for now.
To thoroughly purge the White Nation Restoration Front and dangerous elements, the Federation and the Empire had to take matters into their own hands, truly cleaning out the lingering terrorists and suspects from the slums, restoring order, and maintaining stability.
Past neglect and laxity now transformed into a crushing burden and an unending stream of trouble. Finish one task, and another arose; resolve one incident, and the next was waiting.
A tangled, chaotic web of countless messes left everyone from top to bottom completely frazzled. In their bone-deep exhaustion, they couldn't help but curse from the bottom of their hearts: *Goddamned Shehri, why the hell haven't you died yet?!*
"Brother Ji Jue, Brother Ji Jue, let's go out and play!"
A pair of eyes suddenly popped up in front of him, blinking, sparkling, brimming with anticipation. "I heard a ton of jellyfish gathered off the coast of Tacheng recently. Let's go catch jellyfish!"
"No."
Ji Jue expertly pinched the back of her collar, tossed her aside, and continued calibrating the mechanical heart on his workbench. "I'm working."
"Brother Ji Jue, let's—"
Five minutes later, An Ning popped up again, opening her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Ji Jue shoving a case into her hands. "A new batch of consumables. Take them for a spin and tell me if anything feels off."
Another five minutes later, An Ning poked her head out once more. "Brother Ji Jue..."
Ji Jue let out a world-weary sigh and turned around.
"What is it now?"
"Mmm, nothing really."
An Ning rested her chin in her hands, smiling cheerfully. "I just wanted you to turn around and look at me. Or, mmm, I could just look at you."
"..."
Resigned, Ji Jue pointed across the table. "If you want to watch, sit over there and watch. Stop pestering me. If you're bored, go play with Little Niuma. Little Niuma is very durable; you can give it a try.
"I have a guest to entertain."
In the corner, from inside a giant metal doghouse, Little Niuma looked up in shock, utterly incredulous, and let out a beep.
A crisp knock sounded at the door.
A customary politeness, perfectly cultivated, even though the door had already swung open before he knocked.
A guest arrived.
Tong Shan pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking around the workshop. It was hard to imagine that inside an unfinished building so crude it lacked any exterior decoration, such a realm existed.
Ji Jue finished his final adjustments, shoved the heart back into his own chest right in front of him, and turned to take the tea handed over by a mechanical arm.
"Have a seat, Brother Shan. What brings you here?"
"Delivering money, picking up goods, and finding a place to slack off along the way."
Tong Shan took off his jacket, sat on the sofa, loosened his tie without the slightest reservation, and calmly uttered words he would never have said in the past.
It could only be said that some people appeared thoroughly proper on the surface, but the better you knew them, the more you realized they were secretly shameless deep down.
Back in Yacheng, carrying the Tong family's expectations and the bureau chief's trust, Tong Shan naturally worked conscientiously without daring to relax for a second. But coming to a godforsaken place like the Mid-Continent, if one didn't learn to catch their breath, they would probably work themselves to death.
After waving a greeting toward An Ning, who was busy playing with Little Niuma, he accepted the tea from Ji Jue. Not minding its cheap, unchanging flavor, he casually asked, "When did you recruit a member of the Swarm? The one at the workshop entrance—looks like I've seen him somewhere before..."
"Oh, a new doorman, still on probation," Ji Jue answered without hesitation. "Did he slack off? Remember to tell me; I'll dock his pay."
"A doorman?" Tong Shan frowned in doubt. "He looks rather drained, though."
"Yeah, heard he plays pretty wild in private. Might have worn himself thin. It's the Swarm, so a bit of chaos is normal."
Ji Jue took a case from the mechanical arm, opened it, and pushed it across. "Check them out. Standard high-grade alchemy bullets from the Association, matching specs and standards.
"I won't make promises regarding the Regeneration tier, but for the Transmutation tier, as long as it isn't a Vortex or a Barren Ruins, one shot per kid is guaranteed."
"Yeah, as long as it's passable."
Without even glancing inside, Tong Shan closed the case and tossed it aside. Turning his wrist, he drew Huihao and offered it across. "Take a look at this for me too."
"Whoa—"
Ji Jue took the ink-black sword and walked to his workbench. After sensing its internal condition for a moment, he clicked his tongue in wonder. "This wear is pretty extreme. Has its responsiveness gotten sluggish?"
"Yeah, it feels clumsy to use. Is there a quality issue?"
"Master Zhou has it rough too, you know."
Ji Jue sighed. "No one expected you to use this thing to weather a natural disaster. The aura of the White Stag has seeped straight into it. Plus, you pushed it pretty hard before, didn't you? The Heavenly Circuit framework has actually skewed, and the wear is way too heavy."
"Too much trouble; solve one, move to the next," Tong Shan said. "Is it hard to fix?"
"Minor issue. A few small tune-ups, one full overhaul, and we're done."
Ji Jue's hands never stopped moving. His fingertips slid inch by inch along the blade. Immediately, a light, melodic hum sounded. The friction between his fingers and the edge acted like a whetstone, casting off a shower of sparks.
The sword-tempering arts within the Nine Forms heritage were honed to absolute perfection.
From Pan Ying to Zhanlu, after grinding swords for so long, he had made some notable progress.
What had previously looked like a flawless alchemical creation now revealed plenty of areas that could be adjusted and tailored to Tong Shan's personal habits. "Want me to reinforce it for you?"
"Sure."
And so, the work began.
They were all minor hassles and small issues that required no drastic overhauls; just fine-tuning followed by a round of tempering, and it would be set.
However, while waiting for the furnace to preheat, Ji Jue noticed a screen lighting up in the corner. Understanding dawned in his mind. Without pausing the whetting motion in his hands, he suddenly spoke:
"Brother Shan, want some military merits?"
Chapter 608