The echoes of the bells in the Maya district had not yet faded, and the entire city seemed to have suffered a collapse following a fever. While resetting the 'Soul Cleansing Circuit', the purple-gold beam of light erupting from the top of the clock tower had also shattered the chaotic urban area into countless fragmented force fields.
In the backup power distribution room on the second floor of the clock tower, the air still reeked of burnt electrical circuits. Crouching low, Paul's overly nimble 'golden left hand' was frantically rummaging through a pile of wrecked Holy Blood Council terminals. For Aaryan, a man consumed by destiny and salvation, it had been an epic awakening. For Paul, however, it was a once-in-a-century downpour of advanced electronic junk.
'God help me, God help me...' Paul muttered, a shrewd cunning gleaming on his greasy face.
He avoided Balthazar, who was organising a rescue effort outside the clock tower, and ignored Aaryan, who was meditating to regain his mental strength. In Paul's worldview, reputation was a pastime for the upper class, while ether chips were the true currency.
His fingertips suddenly touched something cold and strange.
Inside the chest cavity of a 'Silver Inquisitor' that had been shattered by the aftershocks of a beam of light — where an artificial heart should have been — sat an exquisite obsidian box. The box's surface was intricately embossed with miniature rails in an etherpunk style, as well as engravings that resembled a 'spirit-locking array' from a fantasy realm.
'This is...' Pau held his breath, carefully prying open a corner of the lid.
Instantly, a dense, almost tangible, bluish-purple light pierced through the crack like the eye of a colossal beast awakening. Inside was a rhomboid crystal whose interior seemed to seal a miniature nebula. Pau had only ever heard of this lustre in legends: it was called a 'Descendant-grade Magic Stone'.
In the Maya District, high-grade magic stones serve as both energy sources and physical carriers of a type of 'compiler'. A single high-grade magic stone can allow an average demon to instantly advance through three major realms or power a flying fortress capable of crossing oceans.
'I'm rich... I'm really rich this time.' Pau could feel his heart pounding so hard that it felt as though it would burst through his ribs.
He quickly stuffed the dark box into his overcoat, which was lined with hidden pockets. He could feel the magic stone pulsing rhythmically through the fabric, as if it were a living being seeking resonance in his heartbeat.
However, he didn't notice the tiny, extremely faint red light flickering in the broken visual sensor of the Inquisitor's remains.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Maya District, inside the secret base of the Holy Blood Council, a row of surveillance screens suddenly lit up. The moment Pau slipped the magic stone into his pocket, a complex positioning matrix silently activated.
"The fish has taken the bait."
From the darkness, a deep, metallic voice — even more profound than Malakor's — echoed: the voice of the Council's true mastermind. The Council cared little for the gains or losses in the Maya District; rather, they were interested in whether the magic stone could infiltrate the 'Children of Prophecy' circle and dismantle the fragile alliance from within.
Meanwhile, lost in the illusion of sudden wealth, Pau vanished into the clock tower's intricate ventilation ducts, carrying this deadly bait.
Like a startled mouse, Pau scurried through the intricate network of pipes beneath the clock tower, deliberately avoiding the main road, and disappeared into an abandoned sewer known locally as the 'Rusty Endometrium'.
The magic stone in his package was still pulsating, its frequency increasing and sending a tingling electric shock through half of his body.
'Hehe, baby, don't rush. Once we get back to our lair, I'll peel off this obsidian shell of yours.' Pau dusted off his coat and, as he emerged from the iron bars of the sewer drain, found himself in a neon-lit, deserted, dead-end alley.
The moment his feet touched the ground, an extremely dangerous chill swept over him from behind.
'Paul West, Level Two Mechanical Technician, Maya District, Number 7092.'
A cold, emotionless voice, like the scraping of metal, echoed at the end of the alley. Paul froze, mechanically turning his head.
Three men slowly emerged from the shadows, clad in semi-transparent nanotech coats. Instead of the bulky helmets worn by the Inquisitors, they revealed cyborg faces, with their left eyes replaced by crimson scanning lenses. A flowing silver liquid was faintly visible beneath their skin.
They were the true blade of the Holy Blood Council — the 'Mercury Enforcers', unlike the Inquisitors who relied on violence for suppression. They were hounds specifically tasked with recovering 'illegal assets'.
'My lords, you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm just a scrap metal dealer..." Paul plastered on a fawning smile, but his body subtly shrank back as his left hand reached for a homemade flashbang at his waist.
'The bait is in place. Asset status: Contacted.' The lead executor completely ignored Paul's obsequiousness, simply whispering into the air as if reporting to some distant being. 'The target's emotional fluctuations are extreme, meeting the initial conditions for "parasitism". Force is permitted.'
'Wait a minute! Force? Parasitism?' Pau's pupils suddenly contracted.
Before the words had finished being spoken, the lead executive swung his right arm, which transformed into liquid mercury in mid-air and stretched instantly into a long whip with barbs. With a whooshing sound, it lashed out at the magic stone in Pau's arms.
'Get out of the way!'
Although Pau was greedy and cowardly, he possessed a beast-like instinct for escape, having survived until now in the Maya District as a 'tragic comedian'. He rolled sharply to the side. The liquid mercury whip struck the metal wall behind him, slicing through a three-centimetre-thick steel plate as easily as tofu.
'Damn it! Are you reclaiming assets or silencing me?!" Pau screamed, lashing out with his left hand.
Bang!
A bomb filled with high-pressure ether powder exploded in the narrow alleyway, filling the space with blinding white light and thick smoke.
'Go!' Pau turned and ran through the smoke.
But before he could take five steps, a series of rapid hissing sounds filled his ears.
In that blinding light, the three Mercury Enforcers remained completely unaffected, their lenses fixed on the purple-gold, high-temperature reaction within the smoke caused by the magic stone it contained.
'Assets locked. Execute the divestiture strategy."
An Enforcer leapt from the second-floor balcony, his legs liquefying mid-air into two massive silver sabres aimed directly at Pau's shoulders.
At that critical moment, a heavy black shadow crashed down from the ventilation duct above the alley, landing squarely between Pau and the Enforcer.
Clang!
A black iron greatsword the size of a door panel, its blade wreathed in dark red demonic energy, had fallen from the ventilation duct. Balthazar's heavy breathing echoed in the smoke. His broad back, like an insurmountable hill, shielded Pau completely.
"I knew it! You old codger! Running around like that never ends well." Baltazar turned his head and glanced at the trembling Pau. "What did you take?" he asked. What made them go crazy like this?"
"Nothing... just a piece of junk." Pau quickly clutched his pocket.
"A useless stone?" Baltazar scoffed, turning to the three expressionless Executors who had regrouped opposite him. His eyes instantly turned icy cold. 'These "mercury scum" don't care about Malakor's life or death, yet they're chasing you specifically. Pau, you've gotten yourself into big trouble."
The Executors slowly came to a stop. One of them pointed a mercury-tinged finger at Balthazar. "Demon Clan rebel leader Balthazar, priority secondary. Interfering with asset recyclers. Eliminate."
At this moment, the hostile and friendly stances of both sides became crystal clear: the Holy Blood Council had abandoned its façade of rule, revealing its true colours in the form of 'recycling'; and the previously loosely organised four-person team had been forcibly dragged into a deeper power vortex because of this mysterious 'bait' in Pau's hands.
'Hey, big guy, are you sure you can handle this?' Pau asked quietly from behind his greatsword.
Balthazar abruptly drew his own greatsword; the blood groove on its blade glowed with a ferocious red light. "Nonsense," he said. "Protect your head. These guys aren't alive.'
In the narrow alleyway, Balthazar stood like an iron gate, his imposing figure blocking the path of the three 'Mercury Enforcers'. He wielded a dark red greatsword, and each clash with their liquid mercury whip produced a piercing metallic resonance. It wasn't like the sound of ordinary physical impacts, but rather like a high-frequency signal tearing forcefully through the air.
'Pau, if you don't want to end up as paint in the sewers of the Maya District after you die, you'd better tell me what that is!' Balthazar roared, not turning his head. The muscles in his sword-wielding arm bulged and the magical runes on his skin faintly bled from overload.
Hiding in the blind spot behind the greatsword, Pau's hands were tightly clenched in his coat pockets. Moments earlier, when the Mercury Enforcer had shouted 'Parasitic Conditions', he had sensed a change in the 'Emperor-level Magic Stone' in his arms.
The stone, which had once been warm, was now scalding hot, and a strange, rhythmic pulsation was spreading from his ribs throughout his body. In the twisted technological landscape of the Maya District, high-level magic stones are not merely energy sources; they are special entities known as 'living code repositories'. The deepest crisis of this chapter is precisely this: the Holy Blood Council released this magic stone, not for recycling, but to find a 'host'.
According to the deep laws of 'etherpunk', when the emotional fluctuations of humans or demons (such as extreme greed or fear) reach a critical threshold, a weak bio-current is generated between the brain's synapses. High-level magic stones utilise the gaps created by this current to release nanoscale etheric hyphae.
Once these hyphae establish a physical connection with the host's nervous system, the host ceases to be themselves and becomes a walking 'human terminal', directly controlled by the Holy Blood Council's central processor. Pau thought he had stolen a ticket to the future, unaware that he had stolen a chain to bind his soul.
'It's biting me!' Pau screamed. A strange, bluish-purple spot of light, resembling a circuit diagram, began to appear in his left pupil.
At the other end of the alley, the leading Mercury Executor stopped attacking. His arm, which had been transformed into mercury, slowly retracted and reformed into its original shape, though viscous silver liquid still dripped from his fingertips.
'Neural synchronisation rate: 45%. Continue applying pressure. When the fear level reaches 80%, the 'Old God Compiler' will officially activate.' The Executor stared at Paul, expressionless.
He extended his left hand and lightly swiped it through the air. The holographic billboard above the alleyway immediately turned black, followed by a giant red cross icon.
"Execute the 'Hunter' command. Calling in the nearest patrol unit. Target: Paul West. Asset status: In fusion. Obstruction will be eliminated on sight.'
As the command was issued, the once-silent streets of the Maya District stirred again. The sounds of distant heavy mechs pounding and the distinctive electronic growls of sniper dogs could be heard.
"Damn it! They're stalling for time!' Baltazar sensed the enemy's intentions and, whirling around, grabbed Paul by the collar and lifted the skinny technician, who was already babbling incoherently, off the ground.
'We have to go back to the Clock Tower to find Aaryan!' Baltazar growled. 'That kid's "royal bloodline" is the only thing that can suppress this evil stone!'
Paul was now half paralysed, mechanically repeating a single word: 'Reset... reset everything...'
Meanwhile, behind this seemingly insignificant conflict, a massive trap had been set for the 'Alliance of Four': the Holy Blood Council was no longer attempting to breach the Clock Tower from the outside; instead, they intended to exploit Paul's greed and send a devastating 'virus' directly into Aaryan's stronghold.
The rain stopped abruptly, replaced by a suffocating dry cold. On the streets of the Maya District, neon lights hissed weakly due to the unstable power supply.
Wielding his greatsword, Balthazar fought and retreated to protect Pau, but the situation deteriorated faster than anyone had anticipated. As the 'Hunter' command was issued, dense red lights gradually illuminated the once-dark alleyway — the Holy Blood Council's newest 'Backlight Hounds', bio-engineered monsters whose nervous systems had been stitched together with ethereal sensors.
'Damn it, they're closing in!' Balthazar roared, sweeping his greatsword across and slapping a leaping hound into a shower of sparks in mid-air.
However, more 'Mercury Enforcers' leapt from the rooftops, having lost their human form. Their arms liquefied completely, transforming into fine, spiderweb-like mercury threads that crisscrossed in mid-air and wove this narrow alley into a massive 'physical isolation zone'. "Leave me alone… big guy…"
Pau's voice was utterly unfamiliar, carrying a mechanical quality with multiple reverberations. He was curled up in a puddle; the Emperor-grade magic stone inside his coat was emitting a powerful aurora. The light was no longer just colour, but countless flowing miniature runes. Once the synchronization rate between the magic stone and its host surpassed 60%, the host's five senses would become distorted. In Pau's eyes, the world had collapsed: the walls had become dancing green code, the air had become grey noise and Balthazar beside him had become a red shadow representing a 'high-energy heat source'.
This 'sensory deprivation' was the Holy Blood Council's most ingenious form of torture. It forced the host to relinquish control of their consciousness in exchange for a moment of clarity, through extreme loneliness and chaos.
'Synchronisation rate: 72%." The leader of the Mercury Executors was suspended in mid-air, his feet resting on a mercury-made platform. His voice boomed through the loudspeaker, echoing across the entire street. "Paul West, you are accessing the Blood Council's central processor, 'Leviathan.' Surrender and you will gain immortality by becoming part of the 'Eye of God'."
'Immortal my ass!' Balthazar spat out a mouthful of blood. The magical runes on his body, exhausted from overexertion, began to crack as the originally dark red magical energy was forcibly absorbed and diluted by the surrounding mercury web.
The scene was extremely oppressive: Balthazar, the war god of the Maya district, was like a wild boar caught in a spider's web — he had immense strength, yet he was utterly helpless against the light, sticky mercury threads. Each swing of his sword only severed the liquid, which would then reform in the next second. Suddenly, a muffled chime sounded from the clock tower; either Cyrus was sounding the alarm or Aaryan had noticed the disturbance.
But the reinforcements were blocked.
On the other side of the alley entrance, two four-metre-tall 'Inquisitor Modified' steam-powered armoured vehicles crashed in, causing small earthquakes with each landing of their massive metal feet. Their right arms, equipped with ethereal shattering cannons, slowly accumulated a chilling blue light.
'Asset recovery interfered with. Execute regional clean-up.' "
Two heavy cannons simultaneously locked onto Balthazar and the collapsed Pau.
"Pau! Get up! Run!" Balthazar roared, shielding Pau with his body. He plunged his greatsword deep into the ground, activating the Demon Clan's final defensive secret technique: the 'Wall of Flesh and Blood'. His skin instantly keratinised, becoming as hard as black rock. However, this process consumed his life essence.
Boom!
The first shot from the ether cannon struck Balthazar. The tough man let out a painful roar and knelt on one knee. His shoulder armour shattered and his charred flesh sizzled.
"Hey… Paul…" Balthazar gritted his teeth and blood dripped from his chin onto Pau's face. "If you die here, in my next life I'll definitely break your cheat code." Paul heard Balthazar's voice, but it sounded as though it came from the depths of the ocean.
He looked down at his right hand and saw that his index finger had turned completely transparent and crystalline, with tiny gears and circuits spinning rapidly within it. His prized 'stealing skills' were being forcibly formatted by the code within the magic stone.
He was no longer a living person, but a 'hardware interface' in the making.
The sense of oppression reached its peak: his companions had died protecting him, and he was becoming an accomplice in their murder. The Blood Council's conspiracy was revealed: they didn't need to kill Aaryan; they only needed to turn Pau into a bomb-laden 'Trojan horse' and send him back to Aaryan.
'Asset synchronization rate: 79.9%." The Executor's voice was as cold as a death sentence. 'Final warning: Eliminate the obstruction.'
The barrel of another heavily armoured mech's cannon was pressed against Balthazar's forehead.
'It's over.' The Executor pressed the fire button.
In that instant, Pau jerked his head up, a human tear streaming from his left eye while his right eye shone with a cold purple stream of data. He stretched out his crystallised right hand, gripping the magic stone hidden in his coat, and let out one last human scream.
However, he neither transformed nor performed a miracle; he was simply thrown like a sandbag by the explosive energy generated by the overload. He crashed heavily through a wall carrying the deadly decoy and tumbled into the deeper, darker ruins.
A shell grazed Balthazar's scalp and destroyed half of the clock tower.
Temporary survival only foreshadowed deeper despair. Pau had disappeared into the enemy's encirclement and Balthazar... He collapsed, severely wounded. His heavy sword, which he had never parted with before, had snapped in two on impact.
The light rain fell again in the Maya district, carrying the smell of rust and drowning out the gasps from the ruins. The enemy's encirclement was tightening while the protagonist's 'lucky star' was in grave danger, trapped in an abyss of data.
In the torrential rain, Mercury threads wove an impenetrable net, completely sealing off Balthazar, the Maya District's God of War. Paul lay limp in the mud, his eyes rolled back and a gurgling sound like an old piston grinding issuing from his throat. The emotionless, synthesised voice of the Mercury Executor echoed through the rain: 'Paul West, consciousness synchronisation rate 98%, about to be integrated into the Leviathan central processor.'
"To hell with integration!" Balthazar roared, the magic runes on his crimson greatsword spewing dark purple sparks from the overload. However, against the self-healing fluid mercury, every attack was like a stone thrown into the ocean.
Just as the two 'Inquisitor Modified' steam-powered heavy armours' ethereal shattering cannons reached their critical point, the half-dead Paul suddenly stopped convulsing.
His body split open in a way that defied ergonomics; his right hand gripped the mercury tube piercing his chest.
'Hey guys… do you think "Paul's luck" just means I always survive the massive manhunts?' Paul's voice had changed; it was no longer the slick, humble tone of a street urchin, but had taken on a cold, metallic quality.
At that moment, the etheric flow in the air froze eerily. Suddenly, Paul's left eyeball burst, not with blood, but with dense blue code.
"Time to unleash my trump card." He grinned, madness radiating from his blood-stained face. 'You thought I was a sacrifice devoured by "Leviathan"? No, I was a Trojan horse sent into its stomach.'
It transpired that Paul had spent years reselling scrapped steam arms and illegal chips not to make a living, but to conceal an extremely secret "disguised memory" within his body. Each time he was defeated in the underground arena and fled through the streets, and in each seemingly unlucky accident, he was secretly collecting fragments of the underlying protocols of the Holy Blood Council.
"Synchronisation rate: 100%," Paul murmured softly.
In an instant, the two Aether Shattering Cannons, which had been locked onto Balthazar, changed direction abruptly. Their blue beams tore through the black rain, missing the demon warrior and instead piercing the suspended body of the Mercury Executor directly.
'Warning! Asset recovery process compromised by virus! Low-level permissions tampered with!' On the nearby clock tower, Cyrus, who had been observing coldly, stopped repairing the bronze clock. For the first time, astonishment appeared in his eyes, which could see through the flow of Aether.
'The flow of Aether… reversed?' Cyrus murmured to himself. In his vision, the energy that had been contracting towards the city's singularity was now forming a massive, greedy vortex centred on Paul.
Aaryan, lurking in the shadows, felt an unprecedented tremor. As an exiled royal, his sensitivity to energy far surpassed that of ordinary people. He could sense a long-dormant 'industrial soul' awakening beneath Paul's broken body. This wasn't mystical spiritual energy, but the resentment and power of millions of destroyed mechs condensed into a single consciousness.
'This Paul...' Aaryan's eyes darkened. 'So he's the most insane one in these ruins.' 'Leviathan, you want to eat me? Then you'll burst!'
Paul let out a shrill, maniacal laugh. His body began to swell violently and years of accumulated wrecked mech parts burst forth from beneath his skin. The viscous mercury web had become the perfect adhesive and was frantically attracting scrap metal, gears and pistons from the surrounding ruins.
In less than ten seconds, a six-metre-tall monster made of scrap metal appeared in the alleyways of the Maya district.
'Mechanical Profound Arts!'
This was Paul's ultimate counterattack, honed over ten years of lurking and incorporating ethereal punk technology and the essence of ancient fantasy. The Scrap Metal Giant stomped its foot, instantly shattering the steam pipes throughout the street and engulfing the 'Inquisitor's' heavy armour in scalding white steam.
Its right hand transformed into a massive, rusty chainsaw and unleashed a torrent of ethereal energy, powerful enough to cleave space itself and split the two once-mighty, steam-powered armours in two.
Flames erupted.
In this catastrophe, dubbed 'Paul's Luck', the Scrap Metal Giant finally revealed its fangs, willing to sacrifice itself for its enemy. As the smoke cleared, the Scrap Metal Giant knelt on one knee. Paul's pale face emerged from the wrecked steel and he raised a bloody middle finger at the stunned Aaryan and Balthazar.
'What are you looking at? Pay up! This move is expensive.'
Before he could finish speaking, he collapsed, unconscious, in the ruins, his luck seemingly exhausted in that instant.
The smoke from the battle had not yet cleared from the warehouse and the remaining blue code in the air was fading like fireflies. Paul slumped in the ruins, his ruptured left eye no longer spewing data; it was now replaced by an ashen look of utter exhaustion.
'Hey, Aaryan, give me a hand,' he coughed, pulling a charred drive from his pocket. Despite losing half his life and a lot of illegal chips, he had successfully extracted a substantial 'profit settlement' from 'Leviathan's' stomach — the coordinates of the Holy Blood Council's '1969' singularity core experiment and a list of high-ranking officials powerful enough to bankrupt the council.
Balthazar wiped the blood from his face and the dull thud of his dark red greatsword being sheathed echoed sharply in the silent warehouse. This raid, though brutal, had, for the first time, truly exposed the core logic of the Maya District's industrial terror. Aaryan stared at the data; his eyes were cold. This was no longer about simple street survival, but the beginning of a full-scale war. At the city's highest point, atop the spire piercing the dark, rain-swept clouds like a sword, Grand Inquisitor Malakor slowly opened his eyes.
Before him, a row of neatly arranged mercury Petri dishes suddenly ignited without flame. The rich scent of gardenias instantly transformed into the stench of decay. Malakor extended a platinum-gloved finger and lightly traced a line in the air. The afterimage of Paul's 'Code Reversal' that had erupted in Warehouse 7 reappeared as a hologram.
'Interesting,' said Malakor in a deep voice devoid of emotion. 'That "thief" lurking in the shadows actually threw an ancient nail into my garden.'
Rather than being angered by the loss of a Mercury Executor, a cruel smile crept across his face. He could sense the ethereal wavelengths in the air that didn't belong to this era.
'Pass down the order,' he whispered to the green soul flame leaping in his hand. 'Seal off all the secret passages in the Maya District that lead to the "1969" ruins. Now that they have the map, let them visit the deepest part of hell.'
The city-wide alarms in the Maya District blared without warning the next moment, and the deep blue Ether Shattering Cannons slowly turned in the sky above the city, aiming at the East District docks.