"It's said to have come from the south."

"Still alive? Lucky him."

"They say he hid in the interlayer and wasn't blown up, but his teacher died, and he became disabled himself. He wouldn't have lasted long if left alone."

"Wasting so much medicine on such a cripple?"

"Doesn't he still have a hand? There's a shortage of people everywhere, and even the useless have their uses. Otherwise, how could he have been sent here?"

"Shh, keep it down... that guy is looking over here!"

"What's there to be afraid of? Look, he's even smiling at us."

...

In the rolling waves of heat, the roar was incessant.

Ji Jue gave a silly smile to the two apprentices, but unfortunately, his burned face was no longer handsome and affable, but hideously ferocious instead, with scarlet blood oozing from his torn scars.

It hurt the eyes of those two.

The idle whispers abruptly stopped.

It's amazing, even being ugly has its benefits, he realized.

Ji Jue shifted his gaze away and leaned on his crutch, laboriously moving forward, trying to speed up.

The middle-aged man leading the way heard the increased frequency of the tapping and looked back at him, slowing down a bit.

He sighed as he watched him struggle to smile, saying only, "Most people who come here are like that, a bit mouthy, but everyone gets used to it."

Ji Jue nodded, showing a smile that fit his role.

Miserable with a touch of flattery.

The middle-aged man withdrew his gaze, unmoved, as if he had grown accustomed to seeing weakness and subservience.

In the factory-like colossal workshop, they were already at the lowest level, hot and humid, with a perpetual stench in the air, punctuated by muffled coughs amidst the pounding of hammers.

All the departments worked nonstop through the night, with countless craftsmen stationed at their posts day and night, tirelessly working. And the horse-like apprentices had even less hope for slacking or sleep, each with deathly pale complexions and bloodshot eyes.

Sun Ci, the middle-aged man guiding Ji Jue, was a small manager among these horse-like apprentices in this layer, a leading horse. He was also the direct supervisor of Ji Jue, the disabled horse.

"Here, take this spot since you look so pitiful," Sun Ci pointed to an empty seat with dried bloodstains and a workbench piled high with scrap, "Finish handling it all by today."

With that, he left.

Nearly every moment, large amounts of scrap kept falling from the passageway in the corner.

It was like a relentless stream.

The job of these bottom-tier apprentices was to sort and break down anything usable from the scrap as quickly as possible, ensuring nothing went to waste.

While no one spoke of the consequences of not completing the work, everyone put their all into it, suspecting the outcome would not be pleasant.

In the Association, at least one could cry when there's too much work.

But here, even crying counted against the time.

"Ah, fate..."

Ji Jue sat there, looking around at the chaos and busyness and suddenly felt dazed—as if he was back in the Association's Recovery Department dealing with waste, infiltrating deep into the enemy's ranks as an undercover agent, only to still be dealing with waste diligently!

Wasn't the bottom line that he was undercover for nothing?

Though he grumbled and complained inwardly, his hands moved deftly, expertly sorting and categorizing.

Sun Ci, who looked over in his spare time, saw his proficient manner and nodded slightly, then looked away, silently relieved—perhaps they could afford to work a bit less today.

Of the six groups on this level, only their group was constantly understaffed, yet the work was equal; they suffered more and endured the same hardships, always at a disadvantage.

And Ji Jue quietly observed the work processes of others reflected in the fragments of scrap metal... mainly noting the efficiency, careful not to work too smoothly and inadvertently exceed production standards...

The outcome wasn't too bad; the efficiency here was much higher than at the Association's Recovery Department.

Mainly because there was no need for protective equipment here, so many steps were skipped. The Association at least observed some human rights, but the You Sui Craftsmen didn't share this tradition of caring for their tools.

What puzzled Ji Jue was—discarding the protective steps, the efficiency here wasn't that much worse compared to the Association's Recovery Department. So what's the point of cherishing calamity if it only amounts to so little actual difference?

Whether it's the Association or You Sui, the pursuits of craftsmen and masters might differ, but the cattle-like apprentices are always just that, nothing special.

So he went from initial clumsiness to getting the hang of it, and finally fully adapting, after three or four hours, including Ji Jue, no one had stopped even once.

And the anxiety Ji Jue had quietly harbored was finally put to rest.

Blending into the environment.

Going undercover into the Evil Cult wasn't as difficult as he had imagined, and surprisingly, there wasn't any special interrogation for him, the sole survivor.

The Security Bureau was on the offensive on all fronts, everyone was too busy to sweat the small stuff.

With his records and spiritual validation in the central bank's system, not to mention being a Mutated Transformation and wearing a You Sui apprentice uniform, that was pretty much enough.

After checking the ether records and skimming through shallow memories, finding that he knew and had discovered nothing, they violently administered a few treatments and strong doses of medicine.

They revived him enough to keep working—if he could still be of use, good, otherwise he'd be turned into materials.

Ensuring he was alive and could move was the end of it, as for potential side effects... when everyone's too busy to even keep a clear head, better not to think too much about it.

The good news: it was indeed easy to infiltrate as an apprentice.

The bad news, however, was that after infiltrating, he was still an apprentice, a bona fide bottom-tier beast of burden, and judging by the looks, he was bound for nonstop work as if powered by a nuclear engine.

And the work environment was no different from a sweatshop.

An abundance of toxins from decomposing work, enough dust to run an accelerated course for silicosis, continuous leaking of evils from the scrap, 24-hour high-intensity labor, and saturated workload...

Even someone as tough as Ji Jue couldn't help but exclaim at the thrill.

The Association was merely anthropomorphic, but you You Sui have completely dehumanized yourselves, haven't you?

You know, even a You Sui Craftsman is still somewhat human. We admire the Evil to progress, not to mutate ourselves into some messy and indistinct thing.

For those with insufficient talent, the Path of Superior is like a long and winding road, twisting and turning with endless torment, often losing one's way and struggling to climb. The grace of the Evil Foolish is more like a zip line high above, slick with oil and electricity zipping past your hands, it's either a rapid rise or a plunge – all about the thrill.

Even with various Secret Rituals and transformations to enhance resistance and reduce risks, a slight misstep can still spell disaster.

Superior or Great Calamity, that's for the powerful to consider, while the common folk usually have no choice. The apprentices working here have all shown more or less symptoms of Mutated Transformation.

The symptoms of Mutated Transformation through the Embers Path are the most direct—physical matter turning into substances, and the loss of reason.

Excessive internal pollution causes the body and the soul to lose control, resulting in unwarranted manifestations.

It could be a face rigid like a mask, or arms withered and shrunken with wood grain like a puppet's, or even all ten fingers mutating into tools... and worse still, basically no longer human.

The soul and body's mutant distortions have twisted excessively, and amidst the entanglement of pollution and blessings, a complete transformation occurs, thoroughly losing one's original appearance. Like that uncanny creation entwined with the flesh-crushing machine in the corner.

Amid groaning, it constantly opens its mouth to swallow waste, chew, blood spurts, splashes, and spits out the residue.

Such a scene seems to be common here.

Everyone just walks by.

In his numb work, Ji Jue's hands trembled slightly, a drop of grease leaked between his fingers, falling under the table.

There, within the accumulated viscous grease, something suddenly moved—a spider the size of a small finger joint emerged from the grease filled with pollution residue, stealthily crawling towards the shadows.

And then another, and yet another...

Calm and collected, he multitasked, scavenging part of the wear while dismantling junk. Between his ten fingers, the Invisible Melting Furnace operated instantly, kneading the spiritual substance, the Fluid Alchemy gave it form, and finally the Mechanical Descent bestowed a spiritual essence.

One after the other, oil spiders were effortlessly created.

As the oil spiders came and went, the intricately complex Underground Workshop gradually came into Ji Jue's view. Unfortunately, the entire underground was sealed by various Secret Rituals and Spiritual Circuits, too distant to find any cracks to escape.

After all, places like the Recovery Department are not much different from rubbish heaps.

No one wants the sewers to back up or for the common workers to secretly jump over the fence to escape.

Once locked, it's better for everyone.

Except for the workers.

"One hundred and fifty pieces?!"

While the oil spiders crawled through the internal ventilation of the workshop, they overheard a familiar voice.

Not far from the Melting Furnace, in the quietest and cleanest area of the entire Underground Workshop, was an enclosed space, even adorned with two wilting Devil's ivy plants for decoration.

In a room set up like an office, the man in the chair grinned and nodded.

"Manager, could there be some mistake?" Sun Ci was already sweating profusely, stuttering, "Why has it suddenly doubled?"

"The order comes from above, what can I do?" The manager nonchalantly smiled as he sipped from his tea cup: "Isn't your group always at the bottom? How can you have the gall to complain? Old Sun, you make this very difficult for me."

"But, but..."

"But what?!"

Raising his voice sharply, the manager's demeanor changed, "Do it if you can, leave if you can't! Don't occupy a slot without contributing. If you don't do it, others will!

Understand?"

"Understood, understood."

Sun Ci dared not argue further, and left in an embarrassed state.

At the door, a good-looking young man with a pleasant appearance waited, smiling as he watched Sun Ci's inelegant departure, patting his shoulder, "Big brother Sun, if you can't handle it, you should step aside and let someone else do it."

Sun Ci said nothing and walked away with his head down.

The young man then walked into the office, and once the door closed, only muffled sounds could be heard, like coy laughter and moaning.

"One hundred and fifty pieces?!"

When Sun Ci returned to his group to announce the news, almost everyone lost their minds.

Feeling many resentful gazes, he gave a bitter smile: "I..."

The apprentice whose hair was nearly all gone glared, "If you're incapable, don't pretend. Why strain yourself?"

"What did you say!" another apprentice fumed, "Big brother Sun has looked after you before! Oh, you take advantage of him and now you speak pretty words?"

People are powerless under someone else's roof, he could just follow along, couldn't he? Why bring everyone else down by standing out, getting us all targeted with no end of problems?"

Sun Ci silently listened to the arguments, not interrupting. After passing on the targets, he wanted to offer some encouragement or promises, but no one believed in him anymore.

He laughed at himself mockingly, sighing wearily.

If he could, he also wished to 'step aside and let another,' to give up his position, but he had no choice.

In the past few months, his physical symptoms had been getting worse. If he didn't achieve some results soon to get a chance to move elsewhere, he might completely lose control.

How is asking him to give up the one thing keeping him afloat any different from directly killing him?

And in the end, Ji Jue, slowly rising with the aid of a cane, was seen standing next to him, unnoticed as to when he arrived.

"Manager Sun..."

"What manager, I won't be by tomorrow."

Sun Ci shook his head self-deprecatingly; continuously failing to meet the targets, his management role was coming to an end, and today's failure would probably see him stripped of his position, "What is it? You want to change groups too?"

"I..."

The newcomer, a cripple, hesitated for a moment and said softly, "I might... have a way..."

At that moment, Sun Ci stiffened.

He looked up, staring back.

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