Under the rule of the Mechanicus, the Badlands had, in a sense, already become safer than Night City itself.
In the shadowed corners of Night City, scavengers and troublemaking gangs lurked everywhere.
But in the Badlands, anyone who dared to bully civilians would quickly discover just how terrifying the Lord's believers could be. If you wanted to know whether the Badlands were livable, all you had to do was look at the priests of the Mechanicus.
Those priests chanted sacred scriptures while swinging their power axes, cleaving offenders into eight pieces without hesitation.
Moreover, by joining the Mechanicus, one could even learn divine arts.
They lived entirely on crops they cultivated themselves. There was no need to exhaust oneself in Night City for a pitiful wage.
Driven by hope for a better life, countless Night City residents fled the city with their families every single day, pouring into the Badlands.
The priests of the Holy See were overwhelmed, conducting initiation ceremonies nonstop.
When believers completed the ritual—linking themselves to the God of All Machines, obtaining divine spells, and drinking a sip of pure water—
Many of them burst into tears on the spot.
Those emotions quickly spread, echoing like prayers flowing toward the God of All Opportunities, and the power of faith surged explosively.
Of course, there were also those who came purely for magic.
These people returned to Night City after completing their religious education and mastering two purification spells.
They began purifying water—using their original power to cleanse seawater—then selling it at exorbitant prices, earning fortunes in a short time.
Seeing this path to wealth, more and more people chose to join the Cult of the Mechanicus.
Even if they didn't intend to live in the Badlands, being able to drink clean water and grow a few natural plants made everything worthwhile.
The flood of believers quickly exceeded the capacity of Mechanicus territory.
Moreover, each initiation ceremony consumed a massive amount of materials, leading to an ever-shrinking supply of metal waste in the Badlands.
In fact, garbage that had piled up in Night City for decades vanished within just one month.
But without sufficient sacrifices, initiation ceremonies could not continue.
To prevent a complete shortage of ritual materials, the Mechanicus had no choice but to require believers to bring their own sacrifices.
As a result, Night City suddenly looked brand new.
No trash littered the streets, and the city's overall appearance improved by several percentage points.
Those who truly couldn't find suitable sacrifices had to spend money on valuable items to complete the ritual.
Naturally, after the ceremony, they quickly realized that every contribution to the Mechanicus was rewarded.
As initiation rituals increased, wealthy believers gradually uncovered the truth—
The core principle of the ceremony was a magic circle that converted sacrifices into power and fused it into the believer's body.
After careful investigation, they realized something crucial:
The stronger the sacrifice, the greater the power gained.
The Adeptus Mechanicus used waste and scrap only because they lacked funds.
The garbage folk had no valuable offerings, so they could only sacrifice trash—not because the God of All Machines enjoyed collecting rubbish.
Yet the outside world had long mocked the Mechanicus as "trash worshippers," leading everyone to believe that the God of All Machines preferred garbage.
Now, those who had smugly taken advantage of the free initiation ceremonies were filled with regret.
Some even cried and fainted in their bathrooms.
After all, they weren't poor.
They never needed to offer trash.
Some believers who sacrificed firearms found their bodies directly transforming into guns.
Ordinary believers could also achieve this, as long as their coverage rate exceeded 50%.
Otherwise, they could only rely on surgeons to transplant cyberware—or pray over long periods, allowing original power to slowly seep into their bodies and induce transformation.
If one sacrificed high-grade cyberware, they would even receive a free opportunity to upgrade the quality of their original power.
…
…
At the same time, high-level figures across the world had their attention captured by the Mechanicus.
They understood all too well what purifying land truly meant.
They were desperate to obtain the technology in the Mechanicus' hands.
Once acquired, vast new resource zones would open up before them.
This represented immeasurable wealth.
No matter the cost, this technology had to belong to them.
Major corporations sent waves of agents and expendable operatives to infiltrate the Mechanicus.
These individuals, brainwashed by corporations since childhood, would not be easily converted—even when faced with a true god.
Even if some were absorbed into the Mechanicus, the corporations believed that determined individuals would eventually return with its technology.
As for the so-called God of All Machines—
In their eyes, it was nothing more than a new form of technology.
A bluff.
A tool for profit and recruitment.
If gods truly existed, they were the gods.
With a snap of their fingers, they could wipe out half the world using nuclear weapons.
In truth, when Biotechnica learned that the Mechanicus could purify contaminated soil, they too were shaken.
Not because they abandoned plans to destroy the Mechanicus—
But because they were shaken to their very core.
Biotechnica had spent nearly a century pursuing flesh-and-blood engineering, wielding the best resources on Earth—
Yet they had failed to achieve what a group of "garbage scavengers" digging in the dirt had accomplished.
Countless Biotechnica researchers were so devastated that they nearly abandoned their field altogether, considering jobs tightening screws in factories instead.
…
…
As time passed, spies from major corporations successfully brought back the long-coveted purification magic.
Then, as executives stared at the research reports before them, silence fell.
Just as they had suspected—
The God of All Machines was nothing mystical.
The miracles of the Mechanicus were, at their core, advanced science masquerading as divinity.
The principle was simple.
Nano-mechanical insects consumed and separated harmful substances in soil and water, then reconstructed them.
Yet the problem was this—
Even knowing the principle, they couldn't recreate it.
Even if they poured unlimited resources into development, they still couldn't achieve half the original effect.
Atomic-level nanomechanical insects that could consume matter, reconstruct it, and replicate endlessly—
Was this truly something humans could create?
"How benevolent… a truly merciful God."
In Night City, Arasaka Yorinobu gazed at the land and water he had personally purified.
Tears welled in his eyes as he unconsciously used honorifics.
With this power, humanity could finally reclaim its living space.
The liberation of the people had taken a solid, undeniable step forward.
At this moment, Yorinobu finally saw the goal he had pursued his entire life—
And for the first time, he saw real hope of success.
…
…
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