North of the childcare factory, outside the sewage outlet, the night was as thick as ink that would not dissolve. The massive metal drain, set against the backdrop of the city's storm, resembled a monstrous maw, exuding a faint stench. Jin Wanzhao's assault squad, clad in custom steam-powered exoskeletons, lay silently in the darkness, every joint seemingly blending into the night.
Jin Wanzhao's "Flame" burned calmly within him. The childcare factory unfolded in his mind—every pipe, every steel plate, every gear's movement was crystal clear. He could "see," inside and outside the factory, the cold blue energy veins pulsing like the blood vessels of a living creature.
"The turbine pump at the north sewage outlet is aged, with a minor energy leak," Jin Wanzhao's voice sounded on the internal comm channel, carrying an undeniable calm. "We enter through there. The internal service channel blasts high-pressure steam every three minutes. Old Zhong, keep time. We have one chance to get through."
Old Zhong, wearing a compact exoskeleton, had his timer glowing in the darkness. He said in a deep voice, "Don't worry, Wanzhao. I'm counting. Three-minute intervals. We go in ten seconds before the blast."
Jin Wanzhao nodded. He turned to look at the Chosen squad beside him. Every face was solemn, eyes devoid of fear, filled only with absolute trust in him. They were the elite of the Fire Worshipers, warriors awakened by Jin Wanzhao's own "Flame."
"Activate the sonic suppression field," Jin Wanzhao ordered.
Little A Xing carefully pressed a button on the device strapped to his back. An invisible wave instantly spread outward. All sound around them was swallowed up—the team's breathing, the faint friction of exoskeletons, even the rhythm of heartbeats were completely absorbed by this special field. They became true ghosts, undetectable even by the wind.
"Go," Jin Wanzhao said softly, and led the way into the dark, foul-smelling discharge pipe.
The vast interior of the pipe was slippery and filthy, water gurgling underfoot. Jin Wanzhao's "Flame" now worked like a surgeon's scalpel, precisely dissecting this steel blood vessel. He could "see" the corroded valves, the clogged debris, even the subtle energy fluctuations in the water flow.
"Five meters ahead on the left, a water pressure sensor. Go around," Jin Wanzhao's command was precise and timely.
The team did not hesitate. Though their steam exoskeletons were bulky, under Jin Wanzhao's direction they moved with astonishing agility. As if walking through a map in their own minds, they flawlessly evaded all surveillance and remaining patrols.
They pushed deeper into the factory. The cold, sterile, nauseatingly clean metal corridors stretched before them. On the walls hung slogans like "Order" and "Obedience," painted in faded letters, bitterly ironic. The air smelled of disinfectant mixed with machine oil—a stark, deathly contrast to the chaotic industrial zone outside.
"Wanzhao, right passage, biological signature detected," one team member reported.
Jin Wanzhao's "Flame" swept across. Deep in the dark corridor, several twisted, agitated masses of bio-energy were laid bare to his vision. He could even "smell" a pungent odor similar to that of "Chimera" monsters—the unique stench of rot and decay from flesh fused with machinery.
His heart sank. This confirmed his suspicions about the "Black Box" area. Valerius's evil experiments had infiltrated every corner of the factory.
"Ignore them. Our target is the central control room," Jin Wanzhao's voice did not waver. He knew time was short and could not waste energy here.
They continued forward, moving like ghosts through the factory's veins. Automated turrets swept their sensors silently; infrared nets crisscrossed the corridors. But in Jin Wanzhao's "revelation" vision, all these defenses became transparent energy maps—their pathways, their blind spots, their warning thresholds—all clearly visible before him.
Finally, the door to the central control room loomed close. It was a heavy alloy circular gate, engraved with the cold emblem of the Black Steel Council.
Just as Jin Wanzhao was about to order a breach, the "Flame" within him jolted violently. He sensed an abnormally powerful energy fluctuation.
In his "vision," before that alloy gate, a semi-transparent energy barrier had materialized out of thin air. Ancient runes, like living things, crawled across its surface, radiating a chilling pressure. This energy signature was vaguely reminiscent of some ancient technology recorded in the "Whispering Fangs."
"This is... a runic barrier from the age of the Artificer God!" Old Zhong exclaimed over the comm, his exoskeleton even emitting a faint alarm.
Jin Wanzhao's pupils contracted sharply.
Valerius had actually reverse-engineered the ancient technology of the Artificer God! This barrier was marked on no blueprint, completely beyond their expectations. It stood like a chasm between them and the central control room.
"Wanzhao, what do we do?" A Xing asked anxiously.
Jin Wanzhao did not answer. Slowly, he raised his right hand, the steam-powered gauntlet pressing gently against the glowing energy barrier.
An immense flow of information, carrying ancient and vast memories, instantly flooded into his mind. He could "see" the design philosophy behind this barrier, could "hear" the whisper of its complex energy circuits, could even feel the rigorous yet slightly arrogant intelligence of its designer.
This was the ancient technology of the Artificer God, reverse-engineered by Valerius. And now, it was being perceived by Jin Wanzhao through a power of the same origin.
He had to conduct a silent "technical dialogue" with this barrier, spanning across time and space, before they were discovered.