Ning Zhuo had long forgotten what he was about to do when he first met Shan Feibai.
But that was definitely not an important matter.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken a detour halfway to do such a boring thing.
At that time, “Haina” was thriving under Ning Zhuo’s management.
Initially, Ning Zhuo’s connections were inherited from Boss Fu.
Boss Fu seemed to have friendships with many influential figures in the underground world.
But these connections were somewhat strange—neither too distant nor too close, neither salty nor bland.
Yet, anyone who heard the name “Fu” would sell him a bit of face.
Ning Zhuo leveraged that bit of face to achieve remarkable results.
People often said that Ning Zhuo was a lone wolf, but if he were given a pack of wolves, he could still manage them all very well.
Even if it was merely accepting some transport and security work, not taking any shady routes, Ning Zhuo, with his strong action-taking ability and excellent combat readiness, led the entire “Haina” to create an extraordinarily impressive performance.
At 18 years old, Ning Zhuo was only 1.76 meters tall, and later, at 22, he grew a bit more and finally broke the 1.8-meter mark.
Among ordinary people, he could certainly be considered tall.
However, in the mercenary profession, the more fierce and formidable one was, the better.
Height and weight were hard indicators of “fierceness.”
In the entire “Haina,” there were plenty of men who were more robust and intimidating than Ning Zhuo. When he stepped outside, he would always be the thinnest among them.
Yet, Ning Zhuo was extraordinarily powerful and capable of making decisions. Coupled with the fact that most of the “Haina” members had owed him favors and shared a life-and-death bond with him, those tall and strong “Haina” team members always treated him like the moon surrounded by stars, genuinely admiring him.
…That scene looked quite striking.
Others simply couldn’t understand how a group of big men could show such respect for a young man; they could only combine Ning Zhuo’s incongruous appearance and figure with his mercenary identity to guess, and then they understood at once.
Oh, what a beautiful rabbit.
It’s just that it’s uncertain whether that little frame could handle it.
Ning Zhuo’s reputation outside was neither good nor bad, and Boss Fu, who loved to throw around his influence, never worried about it.
At first, he simply picked up a cub to raise, wanting to alleviate the boredom of his life.
Later, when the cub began to make friends, he didn’t care; it was just a matter of making a few extra bowls of rice.
Until one day, Boss Fu realized that the number of people he needed to feed seemed a bit excessive.
At that time, Ning Zhuo silently handed him a list, which had a string of about twenty names, making Boss Fu’s eyes widen.
So many people?!
…When did so many people come from?!
He then had a deep conversation with Ning Zhuo.
Ning Zhuo stated that in this chaotic world, if he wanted to earn more money, recruiting people was essential.
As for why he used Boss Fu’s name to attract various people, Ning Zhuo’s reasoning was that he was still young; he could do things, but he needed someone behind him to bolster his presence.
Of course, Boss Fu knew that he was just making excuses.
The person Ning Zhuo deeply hated had now climbed to a height beyond his reach.
Several times Ning Zhuo encountered crises and narrowly escaped death, relying on his hatred to keep himself alive.
He wanted revenge, but first, he had to accumulate his own capital.
However, Boss Fu had always been carefree.
He thought about it and felt that since Ning Zhuo was still willing to come up with a reason to deceive himself, it wasn’t entirely disobedient. So, he brushed away his frustration about having to take care of so many people and happily returned to his logistical work.
Speaking of which, since Ning Zhuo met Boss Fu, he discovered that this person was strange and mysterious, having an obsession with cleaning, laundry, cooking, and other household chores that surpassed ordinary people, and he did them quite well.
With this unusually-minded boss behind him as support, Ning Zhuo became more and more successful.
One winter day shortly after the “Haina” base was established, Ning Zhuo had to go do something unimportant.
Riding his motorcycle past a street famous for its casinos in the downtown area, Ning Zhuo was blown by the cold wind, feeling thirsty and having a stomachache. He stopped by an automatic vending machine on the street and bought a bag of drink made from some unknown beans.
The food sold in this kind of neighborhood, of course, lacked color, aroma, and flavor, being sticky and gooey, but it was hot enough to drink comfortably.
As Ning Zhuo seriously drank the bag of beverage, he caught sight of a car parked at the street corner.
The night around the casino was always the liveliest, draining the energy of the day.
Thus, the streets at noon were lifeless, the walls were empty, and the sunlight cast down without warmth, leaving only a stark, cool light pollution that made one feel dizzy.
The car appeared strangely, parked awkwardly, as if it had rushed here due to an emergency.
Soon, Ning Zhuo understood what was happening.
A boy, stripped down to a thin undershirt, was dragged out of a narrow alley upside down.
He seemed injured, with his eyes closed, and blood oozing from his neck, staining a large part of his upper body.
Inside the car, a bloodied man was bandaging himself. Upon seeing the child being brought back, he struck the boy across the face without any hesitation.
The boy didn’t react and seemed to be unconscious.
The man who brought the child back had a gloating tone that drifted to Ning Zhuo’s ears: “In the time it took to take a piss, you couldn’t even watch over a kid?!”
The car drove away like this.
Ning Zhuo leaned against the dashboard and finished off half the remaining drink.
This was not the territory of “Haina.”
He didn’t know this child.
The kidnappers seemed to be only two, but who knew how many organizations were behind them? He would be offending someone.
After thoroughly thinking through all the reasons, Ning Zhuo opened his communicator and dialed the emergency number for “White Shield.”
This was supposed to be their job.
On the other end came a pleasant and polite mechanical male voice: “Hello, I’m pleased to assist you. It’s currently lunchtime, and our staff will return shortly. Please call back later.”
Then the call was automatically disconnected.
Ning Zhuo cursed softly, “Damn.”
He retracted the footrest, activated silent driving mode, and quietly followed the car.
As Ning Zhuo trailed behind, he pondered why he was doing this dog-catching rat business.
In the downtown area, incidents of robbery, extortion, kidnapping, and human trafficking happened almost every day.
The “White Shield,” which was supposed to act, was doing nothing, and as a mercenary relying on taking orders to support himself, he couldn’t manage it all.
But Ning Zhuo still came.
The car drove to a remote farm, swaying as it came to a stop.
The land conditions in Silver Hammer City were harsh, with only about a hundred acres of natural soil capable of sustaining crops.
Naturally, this was for the rich.
Yet, there were always some who were unwilling to give up, willing to pay a high price to lease land for cultivation, hoping to develop a piece of paradise where they could eat naturally grown food straight from the soil instead of artificially synthesized protein.
This place was a failed experimental field.
The traces of agricultural and industrial development coexisted on this land.
A decaying scarecrow, with a flying indigo wind flag tied to its head, leaned against a dead plant, not knowing if it was corn or sorghum, desolate and forlorn.
Since it was abandoned, it had turned into an open-air industrial junkyard.
Shipping containers built a complex maze on the overgrown soil, and the weeds, dried out from lack of water, made a brittle sound when stepped on.
The surrounding terrain was too open; fortunately, deep and long shoulders had been dug on both sides of the road. Ning Zhuo hid among them, ensuring that his tailing went undetected.
But even after venturing deep into the tiger’s den and weaving through heaps of containers, Ning Zhuo still couldn’t figure out what he was doing here.
He felt like a fool as he touched the rust-stained grooves of the container.
When he reached the source of the voices, Ning Zhuo peeked out from the shadows and happened to see the child lying on the ground.
Coincidentally, the boy was facing him.
The child’s situation was much more dangerous than his own at that time.
He likely had a fresh and deep cut, with blood continuously seeping out, staining his hands and binding them behind his back with steel wires wrapped around him three or four times. His eyes were covered with black cloth, and something was stuffed in his mouth, leaving him with absolutely no chance to escape.
The thin undershirt provided no warmth, and his ankles were exposed, slightly curled, with the joints turning blue from the cold.
However, just from his outline, Ning Zhuo could see that his skin and flesh were the so-called “top goods” and “first-rate products” in the eyes of human traffickers.
In front of him were only those two men, discussing something face to face.
Ning Zhuo withdrew into his hiding place and took out his communicator, hesitating for a moment.
This matter was originally his own initiative, stemming from an indistinct personal motive.
Rashly pulling his brothers into this was an irresponsible act.
Ning Zhuo could see that the child’s clothes and hands and feet were dirty, with scraped and filthy skin, looking like a little lost puppy.
Even if he saved him, there wouldn’t necessarily be a reward.
Just this moment of pause made Ning Zhuo suddenly feel that the flow of air around him was somewhat off.
A subtle “creak” sounded from above his head.
Then, a massive shadow descended from above Ning Zhuo like a mountain!
Not good.
—Someone was on top of the container!!
Ning Zhuo reacted exceptionally swiftly, spinning his body to evade a large hand, thick with the smell of engine oil, that was reaching for his head, narrowly escaping the incoming attack.
In the narrow corridor formed between the containers, Ning Zhuo found himself trapped with no way to escape.
He looked up, and his pupils suddenly constricted.
This person… should perhaps not be called a human.
He was a modified being, standing at least seventy to eighty centimeters taller than Ning Zhuo.
After discovering the convenience of prosthetics, many people voluntarily underwent body modifications.
However, there were fanatics dedicated to fully arming themselves with machinery, going so far as to cut off their own flesh.
This was what was meant by abandoning flesh and blood, ascending to mechanical existence.
But Ning Zhuo understood the aftereffects of such modifications very well.
Removing a portion of limbs and replacing them with new parts was by no means equivalent to replacing a battery or a screw.
For those who fervently pursued power, this was another kind of unaware yet willingly descended hell.
The modified person in front of him had transformed his entire body into machinery, with only his eyes and nose remaining; even his lower lip glowed with a bluish-gray alloy.
Ning Zhuo stared at him, his breathing becoming slightly rapid.
There were just three people in front of him, one core output and two assisting from the side.
What a coincidence.
The configuration was quite similar.
Ning Zhuo understood that in dirty work like kidnapping, having more people was not necessarily good; with too many hands, eyes, and mouths, it was better to have a team of two to five. Therefore, three people teaming up was completely normal.
He had no need to equate his past experiences with this child’s situation.
He shouldn’t be this angry, this impulsive, this—
Before he could fully think it through, Ning Zhuo raised his left hand, gripping the index and middle fingers of his mechanical right hand. Stepping firmly on the ground, he retreated instead of advancing, drawing a long sword made of black liquid gold from his right arm and swinging it horizontally toward the modified human’s waist!
