Lin Qingzhou carefully placed the crooked handmade hammer in the very back of his toolbox, covered it with a clean rag, and only then straightened up.
He rolled his stiff shoulders, walked over to the automatic water dispenser in the corner, filled a cup, and tipped back a few gulps.
The icy liquid slid down his throat, finally quenching the restless heat churning in his chest.
Tang Wulin was gone.
The man who would one day stand at the pinnacle of the continent and stir the winds of an entire era had just been standing here, grinning at him like a fool and giving him a handmade hammer with crooked welds.
And what about him? He'd been jealous. He'd deliberately kept his distance. Yet in the end, when Tang Wulin turned to leave, he'd still reminded him, "Be careful on your way."
When all was said and done, Lin Qingzhou was just another hard-mouthed, soft-hearted man. Just like Mang Tian.
At the thought, he gave a self-mocking laugh, tossed the empty paper cup into the trash, and returned to the workbench.
There was still plenty of work left. Mang Tian had taken an order for a batch of Grain Dryer Drive Shafts, and the tolerances were absurdly tight. He still had to finish at least three by this afternoon.
He picked up the hammer, lined it up over the rough Grain Dryer Drive Shaft blank on the anvil, drew a deep breath, and brought it down.
"Clang!"
Sparks flew.
This time, he didn't let himself think about all that nonsense.
Great God King Tang, the eventual fusion of Gu Yuena and Na'er, Tang Wulin's impending departure—he shoved it all into the deepest recesses of his mind.
All he could do now was make every hammer strike count, do every job well, and get through the day in peace.
He hammered away for two straight hours.
All three drive shafts took shape, their tolerance held within 0.03 millimeters—better than the order required.
He checked them three times with his calipers. Only after confirming they were flawless did he put down his tools and stretch his aching wrists.
That Bracer really was useful. After two hours of nonstop hammering, his wrist had barely gone numb.
He thought it over, then removed the Bracer, wiped the sweat from its surface with a soft cloth, and carefully put it back in the toolbox. Mang Tian had said he'd picked it up, but the thing was worth several hundred Federation Currency. Lin Qingzhou couldn't bring himself to wear it every day.
The electronic clock on the wall ticked over to ten thirty in the morning. Lin Qingzhou wiped his face with a rag and was about to carry the finished shafts to the storeroom when he suddenly heard a muffled boom outside.
It was low and distant, like something had exploded far away. By the time it reached him through the thick walls, it was no more than a vague rumble.
Lin Qingzhou assumed some construction crew was doing demolition work. He paid it little mind and bent to lift a drive shaft.
A second muffled boom followed. This one was closer, and the concrete floor beneath his feet trembled faintly with it.
Lin Qingzhou straightened, frowning. He'd lived in this world for years and had never heard anything like it.
It wasn't a demolition blast, nor thunder. There was an indescribable chill in the sound, as if something were tearing the very air apart.
He hurried to the window and pulled open the blinds.
Everything on the street looked normal. People strolled along in twos and threes. The woman who ran the breakfast shop was carrying steaming baskets to the entrance, while the old man from the grocery store next door sat outside reading the newspaper. Nothing seemed amiss.
Yet his heart clenched for no reason.
He shut off the forge and turned toward the door.
"Bang!"
A bloodied hand slammed hard against the glass door, leaving a crimson palm print. A middle-aged man, covered in blood, sprawled against it, his face pressed to the glass, his features twisted by sheer terror.
He pounded desperately on the door. His voice was so hoarse it was almost impossible to make out. "Open up! Hurry! Evil Soul Masters! The Evil Soul Masters are here!"
Lin Qingzhou's pupils contracted sharply.
He instinctively took a step back. Evil Soul Masters.
The word had always been a vague part of the setting in his memories: a group of villains he'd read about in novels before he transmigrated, the cause of his parents' deaths when he was young, a danger he'd deliberately avoided thinking about.
Now the word was at his door, dripping with blood and terror, shouting at him in a hoarse voice.
Forcing himself to stay calm, he rushed forward and pulled the door open.
The middle-aged man stumbled inside and collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. His left arm was gone, and dark-red blood still seeped from the stump.
Lin Qingzhou shut the door behind him, yanked a roll of industrial bandages off the shelf, and crouched to wrap the man's wound.
"What happened? Tell me!"
"A bunch of Evil Soul Masters... came in from the east side of the city." The middle-aged man's lips trembled, his voice breaking between words.
"They're killing everyone they see... They blasted through the Spirit Pagoda branch's defense system with a Level Nine Soul Cannon... All the Soul Masters stationed in the city went to fight them, but there are too many. There are several Soul Saints among them."
Another deafening boom. This explosion was closer than the others, shaking the lamps on the workshop ceiling until they swayed violently. A few spare steel pipes rolled off the shelf and clattered to the floor.
Lin Qingzhou's hand jerked, and the bandage nearly slipped from his grasp. He gritted his teeth, worked faster, and secured the wound in a few quick turns. Then he stood and went to the wall, opening the bottom drawer of the toolbox.
Inside lay a Short-handled War Hammer, forged from high-strength alloy. Its head was larger than an ordinary hammer's, and fine anti-slip grooves were carved into the handle.
It was the first "private job" he'd made in secret from scrap. It wasn't a Soul Tool.
It wasn't even good enough to count as basic forging, but it was heavy and sturdy. He'd poured all his Innate Divine Strength into making it, striking it blow after blow through the entire night. Its head was many times denser than that of an ordinary forging hammer.
He hefted the war hammer, then reached into a compartment beneath the drawer and pulled out a metal case about the size of his palm.
It was a basic Fixed Soul Tool Launcher that could be loaded with three standard-caliber Fixed Soul Missiles.
Mang Tian had bought it secondhand from an old customer the previous year. He'd planned to take it apart and study its internal workings, but Lin Qingzhou had thought it might come in handy and had kept it.
Later, when Mang Tian wasn't around, Lin Qingzhou had secretly used the workshop equipment to attach a crude slot to his war hammer, allowing him to fix the launcher to the end of its handle.
It wasn't an especially sophisticated modification, but in a pinch, it might save his life.
He quickly checked the launcher's magazine. All three Fixed Soul Missiles were sitting neatly inside.
One armor-piercing round and two Shock-type rounds. That was all he had managed to get his hands on.
The ammunition was expensive. Each round cost over a hundred Federation Currency, and he'd spent several months saving up to buy these few bit by bit. He'd originally planned to use them against Di Tian.
Though when that time came, this little bit of firepower probably wouldn't even reach the hem of Di Tian's clothes.
But there was no time to worry about that now.
He pulled the old Smart Communicator he'd used for years from his pocket and dialed home. It rang three times, then connected.
"Brother?" Na'er's voice came through the receiver, edged with confusion. Lin Qingzhou rarely called her from the workshop.
"Na'er, listen to me." Lin Qingzhou lowered his voice, but spoke rapidly. "Lock the door and every window. Draw the curtains. Don't open the door for anyone, unless it's me. Do you understand?"
There was a brief silence on the other end. Then Na'er's voice tightened. "Brother, what's happening?"
"Evil Soul Masters have come to the city." Lin Qingzhou didn't hide it from her. "I'm close to the east side, so the fighting might reach me. Stay hidden. I'll come back for you as soon as I can."
"Brother! Don't..."
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