Val led the three through a hidden door behind the shop, descending along a narrow spiral staircase. The air became even more turbid, filled with the smell of stale engine oil, moldy paper, and the bitter scent of some preservative, like an esophagus leading to a giant's stomach.
"Please enter, please enter. This is my 'Private Collection Room.'"
Val rubbed his hands together; those short, stubby fingers tapped rapidly on the rune panel on the wall.
Accompanying the buzzing sound of a series of ether tubes activating, lights lit up one by one, revealing a huge underground warehouse to everyone. This place was piled high with mountains of metal scrap: broken power armor, rusty levitation engines, wreckage of alchemy golems long out of production... They were stacked casually together, like silent steel graves.
"Every item here has a history." Val's beady eyes flashed shrewdly behind the lens, fingertips sliding over the broken chest cavity of a golem. "Of course, they all have a price too."
Savage looked at this pile of scrap iron, the light in his eyes dimming a bit.
"What kind of garbage is this..."
The dwarf poked a gear at his feet with that iron pipe, voice hoarse and disappointed: "Civilian steam engine from the Fourth Epoch? Broken crystal ball from the Third Epoch? Val, is this a museum? I want usable parts, not antiques!"
"Don't rush, old friend."
Val chuckled, stepping on a low stool to take down a dusty lead box from the top shelf. The metal box body was engraved with blurred alchemy patterns. "Look at this. This is a good thing I just received not long ago—a high-energy heart said to be from 'Storm Fortress.'"
The moment the lid was lifted, a wisp of dark red halo spilled out. Inside lay a dark red biomechanical heart still pulsating faintly. Its surface was covered with slippery film; several blood vessels twitched unconsciously in the air like tentacles.
"For just fifty energy blocks, it can make that severed arm of yours move again, even stronger than before."
Lyria covered her nose, stepping back in disgust, as if the box contained a plague.
"That thing is alive. It's screaming... it emits resentment before death."
Carlisle didn't speak. He just glanced at that box; gloomy blue light flashed in his left eye.
[Analysis: Biomechanical Heart (Aberration)]
[Source: Illegal Live Experiment]
[Hidden Danger: Rejection Rate 98% | Attached Mental Pollution]
"If you want to turn Savage into a ghoul that only drools and bites people, this is a good choice."
Carlisle's voice was as cold as the ice of underground rock layers, piercing Val's rhetoric with one sentence. "The core logic of this thing collapsed long ago; it's full of chaotic noise inside."
Val's expression stiffened, then he laughed dryly: "Misunderstanding, that's... a collectible, purely for collection! Come look over here..."
The next ten minutes became a precise deconstruction of false packaging.
Val took out pieces of seemingly precious "Treasures," trying to package them with flowery rhetoric and false history. But each time, Carlisle only needed one look.
"That 'Ancient Shield Generator'? That's a mining blast shield, can only block stones, not magic particle attacks."
"That 'Dragon Slayer Sword'? Just an industrial cutting strip plated with a layer of mithril; the edge will curl after two cuts."
"As for this..." Carlisle pointed to a glowing sphere Val held in his hands, tone carrying a trace of mockery. "This is just a scrapped energy core about to overload. If you don't want to be blown to ashes, throw this thing far away."
Val had more and more cold sweat on his forehead. He originally thought he met a rich outsider with money but no brains, unexpectedly meeting an expert more vicious than an appraisal master. In front of Carlisle, he was like a clown trying to sell a gold-plated copper block to an alchemist; all tricks were seen through by that blue eye.
"Enough."
Carlisle's voice carried a dangerous chill. He stopped in front of a mess of heavy machinery wreckage, a pile of metal garbage that looked like it had been chewed by a giant beast, emitting a disgusting rust smell.
"What we are looking for is not in here. Val, you are wasting my time."
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Carlisle turned around; the black robe drew a resolute arc in the air, pretending to leave.
"Wait! Wait!"
Val panicked. That small piece of "Logic Diamond" was still in Carlisle's pocket; how could he let this fat sheep run away?
"There's more here! This pile of stuff was just transported back from the 'Crash Site' yesterday, haven't had time to classify yet! All raw goods!"
Carlisle stopped, back facing Val, a successful arc curling on the corner of his mouth. This was the rhythm he wanted. He turned around, pretending to walk toward that pile of real ruins reluctantly.
[Truth Vision · Deep Analysis Mode: Activated]
The world became a translucent wireframe diagram in his eyes. Tens of thousands of parts information scrolled madly before his eyes; the vast majority were useless [JUNK], but deep in that pile of ruins, a faint but extremely stable orange light was flashing. That was the unique "Perfect Craftsmanship" signal signature of the Second Epoch.
Carlisle's heart moved, but he remained calm on the surface. He kicked away a few iron plates blocking the way casually, as if venting dissatisfaction.
"Savage, come here."
Carlisle pointed to an inconspicuous, oil-covered black metal rod at the bottom of the ruins. "Look at this."
Savage limped over, looking at that thing puzzledly: "What's this? A broken transmission shaft? This model has been out of production for ages..."
"Wipe it clean and look." Carlisle handed him a rag.
Savage muttered, wiping the oil sludge off the metal rod surface hard with one hand. As the oil stain faded, it revealed the dull, obsidian-like metal luster underneath. And at the end of the metal rod, there was a circle of extremely complex golden etched patterns dense as blood vessels.
The dwarf's eyes widened suddenly.
His breathing became rapid; that single hand stroked those patterns tremblingly, feeling that absolutely smooth touch without any processing traces. That was like stroking a lover's skin, no, more sacred than that.
"This... this is..." Savage suddenly looked up at Carlisle, voice changing tone due to over-excitement. "This is a servo hydraulic rod of a 'Titan-Class' construct?! And a military model?!"
"This alloy is called 'Blackstar Steel,' hardness is fifty times that of ordinary steel, and..."
Carlisle tapped the metal rod gently with his fingertip.
Hummmm—
"It comes with a mana return circuit. No need for extra enchantment; it is a conductor of mana itself."
"Using this as a skeleton..." The decadence in Savage's eyes swept away, replaced by a fanatical ambition belonging to an artisan. "I can build an arm ten times stronger than before! No, a weapon!"
"Is this the 'Gold' you were looking for?" Val leaned over, looking at that black stick suspiciously. In his eyes, this was still just a harder piece of scrap iron.
"This is just a base."
Carlisle winked at Savage quickly (that was a tactical signal only they understood: don't blow it), then stood up with a face of disgust.
"Although it's an antique, it's barely usable. Val, this broken stick, plus this pile..."
Carlisle pointed casually at a few pieces of electronic garbage that looked intimidating but were actually useless, mixing them with that precious servo rod: "Package price, one-tenth of that crystal of yours. Deal or not?"
Val's eyeballs rolled. He couldn't see the value of that stick, but he saw Savage's excitement. However, facing the price suppression of a "Technical Authority" like Carlisle, he really had no confidence to refute.
"One-tenth... too little." Val gritted his teeth. "At least one-fifth! This is... uh, very weighty scrap iron!"
"Deal."
Carlisle agreed too quickly, making Val stunned for a moment, a faint illusion of "Did I lose out" rising in his heart.
Just as Savage was excitedly stuffing that servo rod into his backpack, Lyria suddenly let out a soft cry.
She had been standing in the corner, far away from those dirty machines. At this moment, she was staring at a rusty iron box thrown at the edge of the ruins.
"On that box..." Lyria pointed at that box, frowning, face a bit pale. "There is the smell of blood. And, very fresh blood."
Carlisle's gaze condensed, walking over immediately.
That was a long-scrapped "Black Box," usually used to record flight data of reconnaissance airships. Its shell was severely deformed, as if squeezed by some huge force; dark red bloodstains that hadn't completely dried were indeed stained on it.
[Scan: Encrypted Memory Crystal Unit]
[Source: Order of Syntax · Hunter-Class Recon Ship (ID: HK-47)]
[Status: Severe Physical Damage | Internal Storage Circuit: Intact]
"This belongs to the Order." Carlisle lowered his voice, speaking at a volume only companions could hear. "And it crashed not long ago."
He turned his head sharply to look at Val, eyes sharp as knives: "Val, where did this come from?"
Val was startled by Carlisle's gaze, stammering: "This... this was just sent by those scavengers yesterday. Said picked up from the 'Death Canyon' in the west. What's wrong? Is this thing valuable?"
"Death Canyon in the west..." Savage's face changed. "That is the only way to the 'Grand Cathedral.'"
Carlisle squatted down quickly, took out a probe from his pocket (a simple tool he made on the road), and inserted it directly into the broken interface of the black box.
Blue light exploded in his left eye.
[Forced Mandate Decoding...]
[Access Log Extraction...]
Intermittent audio exploded in Carlisle's mind: "...Calling... This is HK-47... We encountered an ambush... Not the Rebellion... It's... Shadow... Cargo... Cargo hijacked... Repeat... 'Primordial Fragment' has been hijacked..."
Zzzzt—! The audio stopped abruptly.
Carlisle pulled out the probe sharply, heart beating violently. He subconsciously pressed his faintly aching left eye socket—there was also a same fragment there.
He looked at Savage and Lyria, eyes flashing with the shock of discovering a heaven-shaking secret: "Trouble. The 'Cargo' the Order was transporting... was intercepted."
"And," Carlisle glanced at those few drops of blood, "the hijackers used neither magic nor guns. It was 'The Shadow.'"
Just then.
BOOM——!
A dull explosion sound came from the ground overhead. Immediately after, the lights in the entire underground warehouse flickered violently; dust fell rustlingly from above.
The abacus in Val's hand fell to the ground. "Damn it! This is the alarm!" Val screamed; those two gold teeth trembled in the darkness. "Someone is storming the outer wall of Blacktooth City!"
Carlisle stood up, stuffing that black box into his bosom, and took out that energy hand cannon (parts state) just bought from Savage's backpack.
"Looks like the people who don't want us to know this secret have come knocking."
He pulled up his hood, saying to the panicked goblin and teammates preparing for battle:
"Take the stuff. We have to go through the back door. This deal not only bought goods but also included a war as a bonus."

