The fire from the Dispatch Center painted half the sky of the Furnace District in a bruised, angry crimson, but that light could not reach the lightless veins of the lower mine shafts.
Gu Hanzhou came to a halt at the end of a derelict, dripping sewer tunnel. He undid the bindings of [Black Order] and laid the sheathed blade across his knees. The sustained, high-intensity hunting had left his meridians throbbing with a dull ache, but the dark-gold Order Blood within him was greedily absorbing the essence harvested from his recent kills. With every slow, heavy heartbeat, his energy sea expanded, pushing against the boundaries of his physical vessel.
"The Mines are no longer a place for me," Gu Hanzhou murmured.
He knew Lin Xiu's character. Having suffered such a humiliating public defeat, the Adjudicator would undoubtedly mobilize the heavy armored regiments from the Upper District for a scorched-earth sweep of the slums. To stay in the Lower District was to be a turtle trapped in a jar, waiting for the lid to close.
He needed a new battlefield—a place where Lin Xiu's authority couldn't reach so easily, and where he could gain access to higher-tier Order resources. He needed to reach the Mid-Tier Urban Sector: Emerald Street.
But before he could ascend, he needed a new "skin."
Gu Hanzhou rose, moving with practiced ease through a series of hidden conduits slick with toxic sludge, until he reached a rusted iron door hidden behind a pile of industrial scrap. He knocked with a specific, rhythmic cadence.
A viewing slit slid open, revealing a pair of milky, bloodshot eyes.
"Name."
"Shadow," Gu Hanzhou replied, his voice raspy. It was the alias he had used during his years as a scavenger in the black markets.
The heavy door groaned open, revealing a cluttered, claustrophobic room packed with scanning arrays, flickering monitors, and thousands of unlabeled chemical vials. This was the clinic of "The Old Fox," the only man in the Furnace District capable of forging high-tier identification that could fool the Inquisition's sensors.
The Old Fox was a withered husk of a man, his mechanical prosthetic eye whirring nervously in its socket. When his gaze landed on Gu Hanzhou's blood-stained but high-quality military soft-armor, the mechanical eye emitted a sharp, high-pitched focus-whine.
"Heh, little madman. The world outside is burning, and you have the nerve to crawl into my den," the Old Fox cackled, a dry, papery sound. His gaze then dropped to the black-sheathed blade at Gu Hanzhou's waist, and his pupils constricted into thin slits. "That blade… it's not a simple piece of steel."
Gu Hanzhou didn't waste time with pleasantries. He reached into his coat and slammed the fist-sized, dark-purple crystal core from the Vein-Breaker onto the metal table.
The dim room was instantly flooded with a magnificent, undulating violet radiance.
The Old Fox's mechanical eye jammed entirely. He reached out a trembling, claw-like hand to touch the core, but was coldly parried by the tip of Gu Hanzhou's scabbard.
"An identity," Gu Hanzhou said, his eyes locking onto the old man. "One that can enter the Mid-Tier Sector. One that can pass a spectral Order-blood scan. I want it clean."
The Old Fox swallowed hard, his greed momentarily outweighing his fear. "This is a peak Blood-Ignition core... It's enough. More than enough. I won't just give you a name; I'll give you an opportunity you didn't even know you needed."
Two hours later.
Gu Hanzhou lay on a cold surgical table, feeling the icy bite of a probe as it implanted a microscopic bio-chip beneath the skin of his wrist. The Old Fox tapped away at a prehistoric-looking terminal, his voice a continuous mumble:
"As of this moment, the mine-slave Gu Hanzhou is dead, buried under the rubble of the Dispatch Center. You are now 'Shen Bai,' a Quartermaster Adjutant transferred back from a remote frontier mining planet. You suffered severe vocal cord damage in a skirmish—hence the silence."
The Old Fox handed over a sleek metallic face-mask that covered the lower half of Gu Hanzhou's face, leaving only those eyes—cold as an abyssal lake—exposed.
"This chip mimics Shen Bai's unique Order-frequency. As long as you don't intentionally ignite that terrifying dark-gold blood of yours, the city gates' scanners will only see you as a wounded, low-tier Awakening officer."
Gu Hanzhou took the forged military ID, feeling the cold weight of the metal card.
"And the 'surprise'," the Old Fox added, pulling a grey, waterproof dust-cloak from the back of a cabinet and draping it over Gu Hanzhou's shoulders. "This cloak is treated with a specialized coating to scramble the olfactory senses of Shadow-Hounds. Now, get out. Don't let those Inquisition dogs sniff their way to my doorstep."
Gu Hanzhou reclaimed the crystal core (having only given a small fragment to the Fox as a down payment) and pushed his way out of the clinic.
At the massive industrial elevator banks leading to the Mid-Tier Sector, long queues had formed. Due to the unrest below, every citizen and soldier was being subjected to a rigorous blood-scan.
Gu Hanzhou blended into a line of departing low-level officials. His stride was steady, his aura retracted like a piece of dead wood.
"Name. Rank." A sentry approached, holding a handheld scanner.
Gu Hanzhou remained silent, offering his ID card and extending his arm for the frequency tap.
Beep—
The scanner emitted a soft, reassuring green light.
[Identity Confirmed: Shen Bai. Quartermaster Adjutant, Unit C. Blood Status: Traumatic Stability.]
"Hard luck, Adjutant Shen," the sentry muttered, glancing at the mask and the long blade. He didn't suspect a thing; officers returning from the brutal frontiers were often eccentric and scarred. "Move along."
The elevator began its slow, vertical ascent. Through the thick, reinforced glass, the fires of the Furnace District began to shrink, turning into mere embers in the depths of a dark canyon.
As the lift broke through the heavy, suffocating layer of coal-smoke and smog, the world changed in an instant.
Neon lights flickered across soaring mechanical towers. The streets were paved with smooth, clean alloy. High in the artificial sky, massive "Glow-Spheres" emitted a soft, white light that mimicked the sun. There was no soot here. No acid rain. Even the air carried a faint, expensive hint of filtered perfume.
This was the Mid-Tier Sector—the land of Order's hollow civility.
Gu Hanzhou stepped out of the lift, his long cloak masking the lethal edge of [Black Order]. He watched the well-dressed citizens laughing and conversing, but there was no longing in his gaze. Only a deeper, sharper coldness.
He knew that in this "civilized" world, the underlying rules were just as blood-soaked as they were in the mines. They were simply hidden behind better glass.
"Lin Xiu... in this place, where the rules are even stricter, you will find that I am far harder to catch than before."
Gu Hanzhou pulled his hood lower, and his silhouette vanished into the neon-drenched kaleidoscope of Emerald Street.
Volume 1: Eternal Night of the Iron City — END.
Gu Hanzhou's revenge had simply moved to a higher altitude.