After watching Xu Yunfan's departing figure disappear through the main gate, Zhan Yan, who had been standing ramrod straight, finally relaxed. He immediately broke into a sprint, and in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he burst into the Mechanical Hall.
Inside the Mechanical Hall, steam billowed like a sea of clouds, obscuring everything. The Profound Steel Golden Ball in Mo Han's palm, constantly whirring with the sound of gears, erupted with a three-foot-long azure flame. It cast flickering shadows across his deeply lined face.
The five fingers of his mechanical prosthetic suddenly clamped onto the sphere's threads. With a sharp CLICK of springs, the chest cavity of the Mechanical Beast swung open, and the grinding of its three thousand six hundred gears made the floor tiles hum.
"Two years ago, when I asked for some Celestial Meteorite Cold Iron, Brother Zhan wouldn't even deign to be polite."
