As night fell, the sky above the Furnace District was torn apart by the massive searchlights of the Blacksteel Parliament, yet the Lower Districts lay in a restless, brooding darkness.
Ahuo's steam gauntlet slammed against the cold concrete with a deafening crash, sending a faint tremor through the ground. He snapped his head up, his eyes burning like two smoldering embers, brimming with murderous intent suppressed to its breaking point. Beside him, Wrench stared coldly at the tangled web of pipes and factories in the industrial zone ahead, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Lord Wanchao's orders—are we all clear?" Ahuo's voice was hoarse, yet carried unshakable authority. Behind him, dozens of Fire Cult warriors and scavengers rumbled in unison. Though they wore no steam exoskeletons, their modified weapons glinted menacingly in the dim light.
Wrench's crew appeared more unruly, but every one of them bore the fierce gaze of seasoned fighters. Clutched in their hands were bizarre tools retrofitted with electric shock and explosive modules, as if ready to turn into a demolition squad at any second.
"Industrial Zone Three, the gas station—I'll lead the charge myself!" Ahuo swung his fist sharply, and his steam gauntlet hissed with friction.
"Zone Four, the waste processing plant. I'll take that." Wrench's tone was casual, yet laced with undeniable dominance.
"Zone Five, the heavy forging workshop. I'll go with Old Li and the others." A burly Fire Cult brute stepped forward, his voice steady.
Jin Wanchao's "War Blueprint" was vivid in their minds. Every target, every feint, every escape route was etched into their hearts. This was a trust and camaraderie unlike any they had known before—not blind obedience, but absolute faith in Jin Wanchao's omniscience.
"Everyone, move as planned!" Ahuo roared.
At his command, the three teams surged forward like three tides of black, melting silently into their respective objectives. They moved like disciplined phantoms, blending perfectly into the deep night of the Lower Districts.
---
Industrial Zone Three, the gas station.
Ahuo charged at the forefront, his steam gauntlet blurring through the darkness before slamming into the iron gate of the station.
*Boom!*
The tremendous impact shattered the gate instantly, sending shards of metal flying in all directions.
"Move in! Smash everything! Hit anyone who stands in your way!" Ahuo bellowed, storming into the gas station first.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
His steam gauntlet acted like a runaway siege ram, unleashing a frenzy of blows against the station's steam pipes, control valves, and vents. Sparks exploded, metal twisted, and high-pressure gas shrieked from ruptured lines.
The Fire Cult warriors charged in like tigers among sheep, wielding modified tools to strike precisely at the station's weak points. Equipment that once seemed unbreakable now proved as fragile as paper under attacks guided by Jin Wanchao's "divine revelation."
"Damn it! These maniacs!" A patrolling guard paled at the sight, scrambling toward the alarm button in terror.
A shrill siren tore through the industrial zone's silence.
"Backup! Gas station under attack by rioters!"
The guard's call blared across the Lower Districts through internal communications.
"Haha! Come on, you sons of bitches from Blacksteel Parliament! Your grandpa's right here!" Ahuo punched through a thick gas pipeline, and a pillar of fire erupted from the breach, bathing the station in daylight. His face was caked in dust and sweat, but his eyes blazed with frenzied exhilaration—hatred for Valerius burning deep in his bones.
---
Meanwhile, Industrial Zone Four, the waste processing plant.
Wrench led her scavenger squad with none of Ahuo's brute force, yet with far greater efficiency and cunning.
She nodded toward the control system of a massive waste incinerator in the distance.
"Skinny, that one."
"On it!" Skinny moved like lightning, vanishing into the dark. Seconds later, the incinerator's controls crackled with sparks, and its exhaust vents began spewing thick, corrosive black smoke.
The smoke not only blocked vision but also carried toxins that ate away at metal and stung the skin. Several Blacksteel Guard soldiers near the incinerator were caught off guard, clutching their eyes and coughing violently.
"Move!" Wrench ordered.
The scavengers descended on the disoriented guards like sharks sensing blood. Their shock batons and modified guns struck with lethal precision.
"What the hell is this stuff!"
"Requesting backup! Waste plant under attack! Hostiles are using chemical weapons!"
Panicked distress signals flooded the Parliament's command center.
---
Industrial Zone Five, the heavy forging workshop.
One of the Lower Districts' core forging hubs, it was normally heavily guarded. But Jin Wanchao's intelligence had revealed a blind spot even the Blacksteel Parliament had forgotten—a century-old abandoned water pipe running beneath the workshop.
Old Li, the burly Fire Cult fighter, led several workers burrowing out of the pipe like moles. They slipped past all guards and infrared sensors, appearing directly inside the workshop.
"Do as Lord Wanchao said—smash it!"
Instead of targeting general equipment, they made straight for the main energy transmission hub at the workshop's center. Guided by Jin Wanchao's "divine revelation," they destroyed the hub's critical voltage-stabilizing crystals and cooling systems with pinpoint accuracy.
*Crack! Fizz!*
The massive energy hub immediately overloaded, screeching with electricity and reeking of scorched metal. The workshop's lights died, replaced by raging sparks erupting from within the hub—a scene straight out of doomsday.
"Fire! Put out the fire!"
"Report! Energy hub explosion in Zone Five Forge! Fire support required!"
More sirens wailed, carrying chaos and urgency to the Blacksteel command center.
---
Across the entire Lower Districts, three fierce blazes ignited at once, accompanied by three deafening alarms. Explosions, gunfire, battle cries, and sirens wove together into a chaotic, frenzied symphony of war.
Inside the Blacksteel Parliament's command center, clusters of red crisis alerts blazed across the holographic map like mushrooms after rain.
Valerius sat in his wide command chair, before him a giant transparent screen displaying the chaos unfolding in the Lower Districts. The towering flames at the gas station, the billowing black smoke at the waste plant, the power failure at the forge—three distress calls stabbed into his nerves like steel needles.
"Lord Valerius! The Lower Districts are under simultaneous attack! High intensity! Initial assessment: at least three separate rebel groups!" a Blacksteel officer reported, sweating profusely.
Valerius slowly swirled a glass of red wine. For the first time, his elegant smile faded, replaced by a fury darker than storm clouds.
"Three groups?" he muttered, his voice rumbling like magma deep underground. "No… only one. Jin Wanchao. This little worm has stirred up such a storm."
He slammed the glass down sharply; it clinked against the metal table.
"Order all Blacksteel Guard units to deploy! Target—Industrial Zones Three, Four, and Five! Suppress them by any means necessary! Capture Jin Wanchao alive!"
"Yes, my lord!" The officer wiped sweat from his brow and relayed the order at once.
Above the Lower Districts, countless Blacksteel Guard airships swarmed like dark storm clouds, veering sharply toward the three burning industrial zones. On the ground, armored convoys roared deafeningly, forming a steel tide that crushed through the streets toward the chaotic battlefield.
Valerius stared at the screen, watching his main forces being fully drawn out, his face ashen.
He had fancied himself the chessmaster, never expecting his carefully laid board to be thrown into utter disarray by a single piece—Jin Wanchao.
"Jin Wanchao… you have succeeded in angering me." he murmured, his eyes glinting with dangerous menace.
---
On the opposite side of the city, two-thirds of the garrison around the Birthing Factory had been redeployed. Only a handful of guards and automated defense systems stood lonely and silent.
Night hung heavy, thick smoke blotting out the sky, with only distant explosions and faint sirens drifting through the air.
Jin Wanchao's strike team reached the northern sewage outlet—the weakest point in the factory's defenses—like phantoms. The massive metal pipe gaped in the dark like a monster's maw.
He looked up at the cold, colossal steel fortress, his face devoid of emotion, only icy, unyielding resolve.
"Little sister… brother is coming for you."
Jin Wanchao whispered softly, then without hesitation, slipped first into the dark, stinking sewage pipe.