Professional Equipment

Tongues of flame surged from the smelting furnaces, while the clamor of loading and unloading never ceased. The great chimney behind the workshop belched white smoke, which spread out with an air of pride, like a gentleman in black donning his gray top hat. Steam filled the air, hammering shook the very walls, and the young men swinging their hammers sweated like rain, yet their faces were as joyous as if celebrating a festival.

The green-skinned proprietress stood on high, barking orders. "Watch the time! The next batch of raw materials will arrive in two minutes! Group A, work safely! No taking off your protective masks!"

Chu Hengkong stood at the entrance and deliberately glanced back at the sign. "...This is Madam Ansa's workshop?"

"Of course it's a workshop." Ji Huaishu said happily. "It can finally get back to work!"

Another batch of flatbed carts arrived just then. The salvagers unloaded the goods, carrying basket after basket of Relics onto transport pipes that looked remarkably like water park tube slides. Water flowed through the pipes like little rivers, automatically carrying the Relics into the warehouse behind them. At the same time, new materials emerged from the warehouse and traveled through differently colored water pipes to the gourd-shaped smelting furnaces overhead.

Chu Hengkong found the whole process extravagantly absurd, because all those materials were Relics. They had merely been sorted according to some pattern, then fed into the furnaces in different sequences.

"Put them in, put them in, put them in... Good! Take turns resting, keep monitoring it, and continue in thirty minutes!"

The furnace flames dimmed, and the temperature dropped noticeably. The salvagers cheered in unison before taking their shifts to rest. Madam Ansa walked over to the two of them, vigorously patting Chu Hengkong on the arm as the scales on her face opened and closed.

"The first time we've started work in ten years! Now this can finally be called a 'workshop'! Hahahaha!"

The proprietress laughed heartily, and Chu Hengkong came to a guess. "Your workshop is like the Healing Temple?"

"Of course. They're both urban components personally designed by Lord Dragon's Return. Only when order is stable can we begin work." Madam Ansa was radiant with excitement, looking like a happy giant lizard. "This is hugely meaningful! Push down the first domino, and the whole chain of events afterward will start getting better! With work, the lads won't have to go hungry; once we consume the Relics within the water curtain, Lord Dragon's Return will have more energy to produce Flow Pearls; with more Flow Pearls and sufficient energy, we can make bigger and better things... Come on, you'll definitely like our good stuff."

She led them into the warehouse, then took out a large ring of keys to unlock the door to a small room deep inside. Chu Hengkong did not expect much. He was still aching over the Relics that had been sent into the fire.

Several lights flickered on, illuminating the humanoid form at the center of the room. A set of black light armor stood in the light, like a jet-black hawk drawing in its wings, waiting only for the right moment to spread them and soar. Chu Hengkong's gaze was firmly caught. The light armor resembled a streamlined combat suit, but its left arm was completely empty. Only a spherical pauldron sat at the shoulder, leaving ample room for movement.

"A combat suit tailored for you." Ji Huaishu picked up a helmet resembling an eagle's head. "Want to try it?"

He could not wait to put on the full set. The combat suit was unbelievably light, and the instant he was fully equipped, an indescribable vitality seeped into his body. It was like a layer of warm sunlight pressed against his skin, leaving him bursting with energy. Chu Hengkong took out the Silver-Eyed Book and pressed its pages against the combat suit. As he had hoped, the appraisal text appeared:

[Resurrection Corps Combat Suit (Inspector Custom Edition)]

[Rating: Level 1 (the number has been bolded)]

[Origin: Myriad Secret Realm · Dragon's Return City]

[Effect: A cutting-edge embodiment of Dragon's Return City Tide craftsmanship, personally designed by Dragon's Return Youyou. The wearer must possess a rank of Particle One or above.

Slowly restores stamina and heals injuries; can defend against weak elemental attacks; can defend against weak mental attacks; possesses weak resistance to Outer Path corrosion.]

[Remembrance: I'm telling you, this kid fights like he doesn't care whether he lives or dies. If I don't stuff in more resistance, I'm afraid he'll die right on his own doorstep... What are you laughing at? You think what I say can get recorded by that book or something?

—Dragon's Return Youyou.]

Madam Ansa curiously craned her neck, but she was too short to see the text. She only saw Ji Huaishu and Chu Hengkong both covering their mouths as they desperately held back laughter. The latter cleared his throat and said solemnly, "I'll wear this to sleep every night from now on."

"Look at you!" Ji Huaishu curled her lip. "Just so you know, it's not that we didn't want to give you something better..."

"I understand. The workshop can only make Level 1 Relics at most right now, can't it? This thing has already been stuffed to bursting within the framework."

It had four abilities in total, and one of them was the immensely practical resistance to Outer Path corrosion. No one would believe this thing was still only Level 1. Taken literally, that resistance meant he would not be instantly killed by a Glowing Corpse's biting ability. That was something that could truly save his life!

"It's so worth it." Chu Hengkong could not help sighing. "It's worth a hundred bottom-tier Relics."

"No line of business can survive by doing business at a loss." The proprietress sounded regretful. "It's a pity the current production line can only make armor. We can't provide you with better weapons."

"This is more than enough," Chu Hengkong said.

After bidding Madam Ansa farewell, the two left the workshop. A new batch of white armor had already begun to be forged, undoubtedly mass-produced Relic armaments prepared for the Resurrection Corps. Youyou's decision had been entirely correct. In battles within the Particle One range, no matter how sharp a weapon was, it could not compare to a stubbornly durable life.

Chu Hengkong gazed delightedly at his gauntlet, feeling refreshed to the core. "After more than two months on the job, I'm finally enjoying public-sector benefits!"

"Can you stop making it sound like you've been doing illegal work this whole time?" Ji Huaishu tossed him a notebook, its pages filled with completed and pending tasks. "Remember to fill out the handover sheet. What's this week's work plan?"

"Routine patrols, check on Tina and the dog, investigate the Black Workshop and the club..." Chu Hengkong's gaze settled on a newly checked-off line. "Adali's ledger has been checked? Any new discoveries?"

Ji Huaishu shook her head, her expression strange.

"It's not quite right to call it a new discovery. Do you remember the assassination attempt against you a while back?"

"Which one?" Chu Hengkong asked.

"The one with Hundred Palms."

He paused before recalling that "Skillful Hands" with all the palms, the suspected moon worshipper. The mission to Marsh in search of gold had been too urgent and too long, so Chu Hengkong had long since cast that trivial matter to the back of his mind. But Ji Huaishu was still concerned about something.

"Back then, we judged from the testimony that it was done by Marsh people. But after investigating Adali's recent expenditures, I found no major shortfall in Flow Pearls. Instead, I found that some of his core members had vanished without a trace." Ji Huaishu said, "I don't know what he sent those people to do, but now it seems... that assassination was not ordered by Adali."

If not the High Wizard, then who could it be? Who in the city could casually produce a million Flow Pearls just to buy a newcomer's life?

Without saying a word, they both thought of the white-clad man in the top hat, and the azure flames in his hand.

"It wasn't me," the man in the top hat said. "You know my habits. I only use my own people."

Besen, who was driving, glanced at him. "But everyone thinks it was you. You know, Hugos's return gift."

"Don't tell the others. That brat deserved it. I sent him down here to open up trade routes, but he made such a spectacle of it."

"You did it on purpose, Kaning. You sent him here to probe the City Lord's Manor."

"Yes, I did it on purpose." The man in the top hat—Kaning—admitted cheerfully. "Now you know it wasn't me, who do you think hired the killer?"

Besen did not answer. Seriously answering such an easy question made it feel as though its intelligence had been insulted. It stepped on the accelerator. The main road before the front entrance was jammed solid: sleek silver sports cars, pitch-black extended limousines, convertibles favored by spoiled young heirs... They resembled a crowd of elegantly shaped coffins waiting to be buried in batches. Their cargo truck, mixed among the luxury cars, looked like a janitor who had wandered into a funeral.

Bars, cafés, and high-end restaurants stood in rows along both sides of the street, their gaudy neon signs lighting up the night. The lanes in this district curved like tree rings. Illegally altered buildings and unlawfully erected barricades forced visitors to circle round and round before they could drive into the central area.

Once they went deeper into the heart of those tree rings, they could see pawnshops joined together behind the buildings. People with bloodshot eyes constantly entered carrying Relics or jewelry, exchanging them for Flow Pearls at dirt-cheap prices. Like the luxury cars on the road, their destination was the building at the very center of the rings—the den of extravagance enclosed by walls and pawnshops.

Besen and Kaning were stuck for nearly half an hour before finding a chance to enter a side road. After winding around several turns, they reached the loading entrance where goods were moved. It faced several large garbage bins, and while the stench was pungent, the place was deserted. The rolling shutter door rose as they arrived, and the red spray-painted words on it vanished from sight:

Refined elegance, extraordinary enjoyment, always welcome—Maiweia Club

"Utterly stupid," Besen said.

Kaning snickered several times, then resumed that manner of a perfectly poised gentleman. He put on his top hat and got out of the truck. The garage lights had long since been switched on, and a brown-clad young man in gold-rimmed glasses hurried toward him. The two warmly shook hands.

"You look well, Visaf."

"A sincere welcome to your honored presence, Mr. Kaning!" said Visaf, the brown-clad youth. His tone was brisk, but his voice dragged thickly, like sticky bubbles rising from a mud pit.

"As per your usual preferences. No invitation, no reception, no announcement of names. Keep everything simple."

"You indulge my eccentricities so much that every time, you make me want to thank you again and again." Kaning looked around. "Just you? Last time, you said you'd found a promising lad with several hands. I thought there would be a new face this time."

"A small accident occurred. He didn't pass the 'interview.'" Visaf brushed it aside lightly. "You know, recruitment always requires caution..."

"All things are so."

Besen remained in the truck while Kaning entered the lift accompanied by Visaf. The elevator rose without the slightest sound. Faintly, they could hear mellow jazz and the soothing voice of a female singer. When the elevator doors opened, the music and voices erupted before them, and a flood of gilt gold and vivid scarlet filled their vision.

Crystal chandeliers and blood-red carpets. Ladies in the ballroom swayed to the music, their flying skirts like opened umbrellas; on the upper balconies, well-dressed gentlemen of high society chatted and laughed with wineglasses in hand, while food was piled on the tables like small mountains. Not far away were jade-green gambling tables, where provocatively dressed female dealers turned cards in almost seductive poses. Frenzied people piled their chips on the tables, then wailed or cheered moments later.

The clatter of dice, women's coquettish laughter, the sharp scratch of a match lighting a cigarette—countless sounds of decadence joined into a stirring symphony that set the blood surging. This was Maiweia Club, a tiny paradise heaped together from money and flesh.

"How's your luck, Mr. Clu?... You look younger, Madam Anderson... Long time no see, little 'Mole.' Get him a beer!"

Visaf entered the crowd and exchanged pleasantries, smoothly shifting his manner according to each guest's status. People raised their glasses in cooperation, thanking him for his hospitality. As Maiweia's second son, he had hosted more banquets than he could count. This was something he did with effortless ease.

Kaning leaned against the railing with a glass of red wine, watching the women dance below. Among them, he spotted the eldest daughter, Kameir, a girl whose brown hair was as smooth as chocolate. Yet he did not see the eldest son, Whitebrow. Normally, that bastard would change into a different "skin," mingle among the gamblers as he placed bets and shouted encouragement, and whistle at newly arrived girls.

An interesting sign. It meant Whitebrow had been sent out to work, but Maiweia generally did not send people out during banquets... unless tonight's banquet had been arranged in great haste, leaving no time to alter the original plans...

Kaning's train of thought was interrupted. An itching sensation came from behind him. He turned around and saw a gray cat's tail swaying before his eyes.