In the ghost market at night, there were no watchmen to sound the alarm; only the dull hum of the old exhaust fans overhead, like the panting of a dying beast.
Less than half an hour after leaving Qianjinfang, Shen Qingqiu sensed his pursuers.
Not just one, but a whole group.
The young man in brocade clearly had no intention of letting this go, much less letting go of the priceless "Flowing Gold Fire Essence." Greed was the cheapest fuel in this underground city.
"Seventeen, this way." Shen Qingqiu pulled Seventeen, turning into a narrow alleyway covered with rusty chains. This was an abandoned smelting area, the air thick with the pungent smell of sulfur, the walls bearing the marks of intense heat from some unknown era.
"Qingqiu..." Seventeen's steps were unsteady. Forcibly activating his killing intent at Qianjinfang had exhausted his remaining energy. Now, his face beneath the mask was ashen, and a red light flickered in his single eye—a warning of low system battery.
"Don't talk, save some electricity." Shen Qingqiu squeezed his hand tightly, her heart aching. That hand was as cold as ice, the fingertips trembling slightly.
Whoosh—!
A cold, eerie green arrow tore through the darkness, grazing Shen Qingqiu's temple, embedding itself in the iron plate on the wall, instantly corroding a smoking black hole.
"Run? Where do you think you're going!" At the alley entrance, the young master in brocade robes, accompanied by a dozen thugs in exoskeletons, blocked their path. He toyed with a laser fan gleaming with blue light, his face full of cat-and-mouse mockery.
"Hand over the stuff, and leave that cripple here to kowtow three times to me, maybe then you'll be left with a whole corpse." Seventeen suddenly shielded Shen Qingqiu behind him.
Even swaying precariously, even with only one hand, he was still the sharpest sword.
"Clean up… the trash." He roared, his remaining left hand drawing the broken sword, his figure flashing like a black lightning bolt.
However, even the strongest fists can't fight off four hands, let alone just one.
The exoskeletons worn by these thugs were clearly modified, possessing immense strength. Seventeen cleaved through one man's chest armor with a single sword strike, but was then struck heavily in the back by a blunt object.
Bang!
Seventeen staggered, a trickle of black, oily blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
"Seventeen!" Shen Qingqiu wanted to rush forward, but was stopped by a stern look from Seventeen.
That look said: Don't come any closer, you're filthy.
He didn't want her to see him in such a wretched state. Like a dog with a broken spine, struggling in the mud.
Shen Qingqiu's eyes reddened.
She didn't rush forward to her death. She took a deep breath, her golden eyes instantly igniting, her gaze sweeping across the surroundings.
This was an abandoned smelting area…
That was…
Her gaze landed on a subterranean furnace in the corner, still flickering with faint embers.
A crazy plan took shape in her mind.
"Since you're courting death, don't blame me." Shen Qingqiu pulled out the bottle of "Flowing Gold Fire Essence" from her robes.
The golden liquid flowed slowly within the bottle, seemingly alive. This was the world's finest memory metal, extremely malleable, but requiring incredibly high temperatures to activate.
"Seventeen! Back down!" Shen Qingqiu roared, simultaneously kicking over a nearby pile of debris, revealing the entrance to the furnace.
Seventeen instinctively obeyed the command. He endured a fatal blow, using the momentum to retreat to Shen Qingqiu's side.
"Qingqiu... run..." he gasped, his body at its limit.
"Shut up." Shen Qingqiu slammed him against the anvil beside the furnace, her eyes burning with madness.
"Bear with it, it'll hurt." Without hesitation, she poured the entire bottle of "Flowing Gold Fire Essence" into the nearby earth fire furnace!
Boom—! The golden liquid burst forth with a dazzling light the moment it touched the earth's fire. Shen Qingqiu formed hand seals (actually, she was writing guiding code), her spiritual power reaching into the flames like tentacles, guiding the boiling liquid gold.
"Rise!" she shouted.
The scalding hot liquid metal, like a miniature sun, obediently flew out and hovered in mid-air.
The brocade-clad young master and his thugs were dumbfounded: "This... what kind of sorcery is this?!"
Shen Qingqiu ignored them. She looked at Seventeen's charred severed arm, a resolute tenderness flashing in her eyes.
"This is your new puzzle piece."
*Sizzle—!*
With a flick of her wrist, the scalding gold was poured directly onto Seventeen's severed right shoulder!
"Ah—!!!" Seventeen threw his head back and let out a piercing scream.
The pain wasn't physical, but the pain of his soul being drenched in magma. The intense heat instantly burned away the necrotic nerves at his severed wound. The liquid metal, like a sentient parasite, frantically burrowed into his bone marrow, searching for every connecting wire and forcibly fusing with him.
[Warning: High-temperature erosion! Core temperature overload!]
[High-grade material detected… Reconstructing… Adapting…] Seventeen convulsed in pain, but he bit his lip tightly, refusing to faint.
Because he saw Shen Qingqiu.
She was kneeling beside him, her hands, ignoring the scalding heat, firmly pressing down on the molten metal trying to flow out, shaping him like clay.
Her hands were blistered and her skin charred.
But her eyes were focused, as if sculpting a rare treasure.
"Don't be afraid… Seventeen, don't be afraid…"
She murmured in his ear, tears streaming down her face, her voice as gentle as a lullaby.
"Bone is gold, blood is fire."
"Using this body as a furnace, I will reforge your Asura Arm."
Under her guidance, the raging gold began to cool and solidify.
It was no longer a lump of mud, but, following Seventeen's will, transformed into a perfect, streamlined, black-gold arm.
The arm's surface was covered with layers of scale-like armor, each scale opening and closing as if breathing, with crimson-gold magma light flowing from the gaps. The fingers were long and sharp, the fingertips gleaming with a dangerous, cold light.
[Reconstruction complete.]
[Right Arm Module: Flowing Gold Vulcan (Type I). Strength: S-Rank.]
Seventeen's screams ceased.
He gasped for breath, sweat soaking his long hair. He slowly raised his newly formed right arm.
The feeling… was too wondrous.
Full of power, full of savage destructive desire, yet it moved with effortless grace, as if it had always been there.
"Qingqiu..."
Looking at Shen Qingqiu's scalded hands, the red light that had just subsided in his eyes instantly transformed into a raging inferno.
*Sizzle—* His newly grown right hand clenched into a fist.
The air exploded with a crisp sound.
"You...you all deserve to die."
Seventeen slowly stood up.
He was still dressed in tattered black clothes, but the flowing crimson-gold light on his right arm made him appear like a demon god crawling out of purgatory.
The young master in brocade robes trembled with fear: "Attack...all of you, attack! Kill him!" A dozen thugs charged forward, steeling themselves.
Seventeen didn't draw his sword.
He simply raised his black-gold right hand and grabbed at the person at the front.
*Boom!*
The scales on that arm instantly opened, spewing out a visible wave of heat.
The thug didn't even have time to scream before his exoskeleton armor melted away, turning him into a burning fireball.
Instant kill.
"What...what kind of monster is this?!"
The remaining people turned and ran.
But Seventeen didn't give them a chance.
His figure suddenly vanished from the spot.
When he reappeared, he was already in the crowd.
His golden right arm had become the scythe of death. Each swing left a golden afterimage; each contact was accompanied by the sound of melting metal and shattering bones.
This was a massacre.
It was also a bloody dance dedicated to Shen Qingqiu.
Less than ten breaths.
The alley fell silent.
Only the young man in brocade robes remained, slumped on the ground, his crotch soaked and emitting a foul stench.
Seventeen walked up to him.
His scalding hot hand, still dripping with molten metal, hovered above his head.
"Don't...don't kill me...my father is..."
*Thud*.
Seventeen waved his hand expressionlessly.
A head rolled to the ground, the severed wound instantly sealed by the intense heat, not a drop of blood flowing.
He didn't like the blood staining this novice's hand.
Because it was Qingqiu who had given it to him.
Having resolved everything, the red light around Seventeen gradually faded, returning to its deep blue.
He turned around, looking at Shen Qingqiu, who stood pale-faced beside the furnace.
That violent killing intent vanished instantly.
Like a child who had done something wrong, or perhaps wanting a reward, he cautiously approached her, raising his newly grown right arm and offering it to her.
"Qingqiu...look."
"It moves...very smoothly."
He clumsily moved his fingers, making a grasping motion, a timid expectation in his eyes.
Shen Qingqiu looked at him, then at her own charred hands.
She smiled.
Tears slid down her cheeks, dripping onto his burning arm, instantly evaporating into a wisp of white smoke.
"Beautiful, Seventeen." Ignoring the pain in her hand, she reached out and gently embraced the arm, which exuded an aura of destruction, pressing her face against its scales, a tapestry of cold and burning heat.
"It's the most beautiful hand in the world." Seventeen shuddered.
He looked at the woman in his arms, feeling her trembling.
He slowly extended his newly formed right hand, his movements incredibly gentle, as if afraid of hurting her.
The enormous black-gold hand gently enveloped the back of her head, pressing her against his chest.
There, the simulated heartbeat module was pounding wildly.
Thump, thump, thump.
"From now on…" Seventeen lowered his head, his chin resting on the top of her head, his voice hoarse yet resolute.
"This hand will only be used to draw your sword."
"And only for you… to wipe your tears." The rain outside the alley had stopped.
The exhaust fan's roar remained muffled, but this dark, damp corner of the underground city seemed to be filled with light.
It was the glow of flowing gold.
It was also the spark that ignited when two broken souls welded together in the wasteland.
"I was nothing but scrap metal, but you made me steel."
"Since this world is so cold, then I'll burn myself red-hot to warm you."