The acid rain hissed against the rusted hull of the fallen titan mech that served as their shelter.
Inside, the atmosphere was grim. Su Mei was awake, sitting cross-legged, circulating her Qi to heal her internal injuries. Her face was pale, the usually sharp lines of her expression softened by exhaustion.
Fatty Wu was counting their remaining Spirit Stones. His hands trembled.
"We have... three hundred Low-Grade stones," Wu whispered, looking at the paltry pile. "And zero food. Boss, we are destitute."
Lin Fan didn't look up from his workbench—a flat piece of scrap metal where he was disassembling the Admin Token's projection unit to save power.
"We aren't destitute," Lin Fan corrected, his voice calm. "We are liquid. We just need to find a market."
He stood up, slotting the Desert Eagle into his holster. The Natal Weapon felt hungry; it hadn't tasted blood since the valley.
"The storm is passing," Lin Fan announced. "Pack up. We move to the outskirts of the City of Rust."
"And then?" Su Mei asked, standing up shakily. "We walk in? A city of criminals isn't going to welcome three refugees with empty pockets."
"We don't walk in as refugees," Lin Fan smiled, pulling the hood of his tattered Mantle over his head. "We walk in as suppliers."
The Badlands were a nightmare landscape. The ground was composed of layers of compacted trash from a thousand years of history—broken swords, shattered golems, and bones.
Strange, mutated creatures scurried in the shadows. Scrap Crabs with knives for claws and Oil Slimes that burned on contact.
They walked for hours. The horizon was dominated by a massive, dark silhouette.
The City of Rust.
It wasn't built on the ground; it hung from the underside of a massive, ancient floating island that had crashed eons ago. The buildings were inverted stalactites of metal and neon spirit-lights, connected by swaying chains and bridges.
"It's... upside down," Fatty Wu gaped.
"Gravity arrays," Lin Fan analyzed, his blue eyes scanning the structure. "Inefficient, but stylish."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled.
"Ambush," Su Mei hissed, drawing her daggers.
From the piles of scrap around them, six figures emerged. They were ragged, their skin covered in metal grafts and glowing tattoos.
[Target: Badland Scavengers] [Cultivation: Qi Condensation 8-9]
The leader, a man with a jaw made of rusted iron, stepped forward. He held a serrated machete dripping with green poison.
"Fresh meat," Iron Jaw grinned. "You look soft, city folk. Hand over the girl and the fat one. You... you can keep your clothes if you run fast enough."
Lin Fan sighed. "I hate random encounters. They yield low XP."
He stepped forward. "I am looking for the entrance to the Black Market. Point the way, and I won't kill you."
The scavengers laughed. It was a dry, rasping sound.
"He thinks he's a young master!" Iron Jaw cackled. "Boys, strip him!"
Three scavengers charged. They were fast, fueled by chaotic Badlands Qi which made them berserk but sloppy.
Lin Fan didn't draw his gun. He didn't want to waste bullets on trash.
He raised his left hand. The Ring of the False King glinted.
"Fatty," Lin Fan said. "Trip them."
"Me?!" Fatty Wu yelped.
"Just throw something!"
Fatty Wu panicked. He reached into his robe and threw the first thing he found—a half-eaten hardtack biscuit.
The biscuit flew through the air.
At that exact moment, a gust of wind from a thermal vent blew the biscuit off course. It hit a precarious pile of junk metal tower next to the charging scavengers.
CLINK.
The tiny impact destabilized the pile.
CRASH!
Two tons of rusted steel beams collapsed directly onto the three charging scavengers.
SPLAT.
There were no screams. Just a wet crunch.
The remaining scavengers froze. Iron Jaw looked at the pile of rubble, then at the fat man holding a biscuit crumb.
"Sorcery..." Iron Jaw whispered.
Lin Fan walked over to the rubble. He picked up a rusted machete from a dead hand.
"Gravity is a harsh mistress," Lin Fan said. He looked at Iron Jaw.
"Now. About that map."
Iron Jaw dropped his weapon and pointed a shaking finger toward a large sewage pipe in the distance. "The... the South Gate. It's through there."
"Thank you," Lin Fan said. He didn't kill them. He needed word to spread.
"Tell your friends," Lin Fan smiled, the shadows of his hood hiding his eyes. "The Grim Reaper is in town. And he's hiring."