"Bang!"
The iron plating beneath his feet caved in deeply, while his body shot into the sky like a cannonball.
Under the Ork mechanic's horrified gaze, Liu Zhipeng punched straight through the Gorkanaut's cockpit, reducing it and the mechanic inside to cosmic dust.
The massive Gorkanaut lost control and crashed to the ground, smashing a huge crater into the workshop floor and throwing up clouds of dust.
Every Ork in the workshop was dead.
Only corpses remained, along with the stench of blood and scorched flesh hanging in the air.
And... several thousand Gretchin, scared witless.
Some of the little creatures lay collapsed on the ground, trembling like leaves; some hid behind scrap heaps, daring to peek out with only one eye; others stood with their mouths hanging open, drool spilling down their chins, their brains having completely shut down.
What had they just seen?
A god. Or perhaps a devil.
A devil who looked like a Gretchin had, in barely half a minute, slaughtered the masters they had considered as invincible as gods.
In the deathly silence, Liu Zhipeng slowly climbed down from the Gorkanaut's wreckage. He walked over to the corpse of the overseer whose knees he had smashed first.
He nimbly hopped onto the Ork's huge, ugly head.
Standing on that head, he surveyed the blank, frightened, bewildered Gretchin faces around him.
He drew a deep breath and, with every ounce of strength in this body, let out a deafening cry.
"You go hungry every single day!"
The Gretchin shuddered.
"You live in fear every single day!"
The Gretchin hunched their necks.
"Your companions get fired as bullets! Used as rags to wipe up oil! Fed to Squigs!"
Cloudy tears spilled from the eyes of some Gretchin. They were tears of fear, but also of hurt.
"Why?!"