Chapter 166: Tracking |
From the outside, the entire Tester residence appeared completely peaceful. However, the tranquility of the street was shattered moments later when the sudden blare of sirens broke the silence.
Passersby watched in astonishment as police cars sped to the scene, surrounding the estate. No one knew what had happened. Many curious neighbors stepped out of their homes, gathering in small groups to watch the officers hurrying back and forth in a frantic rush, whispering and speculating about what could have occurred.
Among the crowd, a young man wearing a peaked cap watched the commotion. A cold sneer flashed in his eyes as he saw the police enter the Tester residence. Turning away, he slipped out of the gathering crowd and headed into a nearby subway station, catching a train toward the southern district of Bisbalu.
This area was filled with abandoned factories slated for demolition, and the surrounding streets were completely deserted. The young man glanced left and right before approaching one of the warehouses. He reached out and knocked on the door. A small observation slot slid open, revealing a pair of cold, indifferent eyes that carefully inspected him before unlocking the door and ushering him inside.
"What's the situation?"
"They called the police after all. The authorities have already arrived," the young man whispered, casting a quick glance around the interior.
"What about the old man? Has he talked yet?"
"The boss is interrogating him right now, but there's not much progress. The old man insists he knows nothing," the man who opened the door replied with a cold grunt. "Are we absolutely certain that signature card is in the old man's hands? We turned that house upside down earlier and found nothing."
The young man in the peaked cap seemed highly anxious. "If we made a mistake..."
"What if we can't find it? That thing is so small. What if they just flushed it down the toilet..."
"That's not our concern."
"How is it not our concern!" the young man in the peaked cap growled in anger. "I'm utterly sick and tired of this city—this steel, blasphemous, filthy city. Look at these people, what are they doing? Every single day, they conduct experiments that blaspheme the Deities, talking about nothing but heresy. This city is practically hell. We must save it from the clutches of those evil mechanists, no matter the cost, no matter the method."
"And yet, you're still just an insignificant nobody." Compared to the young man's passionate outburst, the other man was visibly calmer. "Alright, go report the situation to the boss. You didn't come back just to whine to me."
The young man snorted coldly, turned, and walked deeper into the warehouse. He passed through two doors and followed a flight of stairs down into a room. The interior was exceptionally dark, illuminated only by a few burly men standing along the walls. They were bare-chested, muscular, and held burning torches. In the center of the room stood a man draped in a thick fur robe, looking like a tribal barbarian.
At this moment, the leader was narrowing his eyes, staring intently at the elderly man tied to a chair in front of him. The old man's hands were cuffed behind his back. His appearance strongly resembled the portraits of scientists found in textbooks—fluffy hair, a thick white beard, and clothes that were somewhat stained, though clearly not due to his own living habits.
"Boss," the young man said as he entered the room, greeting the barbarian leader. "A lot of police have gathered outside the Tester estate. It seems someone reported the incident."
"It's useless even if they called the police. That pack of brainless idiots will never find any clues." The leader flexed his fists and glared at the elderly man. "Alright, Dr. Tester, my patience is limited. Tell me, where is that black card?"
"And I will answer you once again, young man," the old man replied. His voice was somewhat weak, but it remained remarkably steady, seemingly entirely unfazed by the threat of the imposing brute before him. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"We know the man from the Orient Express came to see you! Don't play dumb with me!"
"I merely asked him to bring me some local delicacies," the old man's voice remained calm, a trace of smugness even playing across his brow. "As for some black card, I've never even seen it."
"Stop joking around!" The leader lunged forward and grabbed the old man by his collar. "Do you truly believe that without that card, we'll be unable to destroy this city?"
"Oh? Then how do you intend to do it? With iron bars and stones?" The old man chuckled as he looked at the savage leader, completely disregarding the clenched fist hovering before him.
"You don't need to know." The leader tightened his fist but refrained from striking. With his immense strength, a single punch might very well send the old man straight to the afterlife. "In truth, it was manufactured by your own kind, wasn't it? You mechanists are truly amusing. You create the very tools that will bring about your own demise. It's entirely the will of the Deities. You see, in the end, you'll destroy yourselves."
"I truly cannot comprehend why you people remain so obsessed with these absurd delusions." The old man shook his head as he looked at the barbarian. "Progress is unstoppable and irresistible. Even if you succeed today, it will change nothing. Do you honestly believe this will make us abandon knowledge? Abandon the spirit of inquiry? Abandon the adventure of exploring the world? Why?"
"Because it's wrong." The leader glared back, his powerful frame shifting slightly. "When the Deities created humanity, they assigned them a specific place and duty in this world. Our role is to be like gardeners in a garden, diligently tending to the world for the Deities. It is not to usurp their position and claim to be the masters of this garden!"
The more he spoke, the more agitated the leader became. "Now you have strayed down the wrong path. Blinded by your own arrogance, you have abandoned the guidance of the Deities and taken it upon yourselves to reshape this world. Look at what this world has become! Morals are depraved, the air is foul, and all warmth between human beings has vanished, replaced only by cold indifference and brutality! Is this correct? Is it not true that machinery can bring nothing but destruction to mankind?"
The old man sighed and remained silent. He had encountered these Luddites in his youth. He could not understand them then, and he understood them even less now.
"What exactly is your goal? You expect a single card to destroy the entire Steel City? You must know that's impossible."
"Nothing is impossible." The leader appeared immensely proud of his scheme. "You have absolutely no idea how many companions we have hidden throughout the Steel City. You people are too immersed in your grand speeches to notice. The moment this city ceases to function normally will be the moment we strike. When that time comes, we will utterly level this city to the ground."
"...Truly foolish."
"What did you say?"
"I said, you people are just as foolish as always." The old man lifted his head, his cloudy eyes suddenly appearing incredibly calm and clear. "You view machinery as a curse, a gift bestowed by some devil, but that is simply not the truth. Humanity studies the world and explores the world. Everything we manufacture is built upon the foundation of the knowledge we comprehend. And that knowledge does not appear out of thin air, nor is it some sudden divine revelation. It is accumulated across generations through our understanding of nature. Everything we have achieved is merely because we stand on the shoulders of giants..."
"Shut up! I don't want to listen to your gibberish!" the leader roared, interrupting the old man. It was unclear whether his mind simply lacked the capacity to process the concepts being explained to him. "You've crossed the line, plain and simple! The world was never meant to be like this! It must return to the past! To that beautiful, vibrant era of singing birds, fragrant flowers, and pastoral poetry! Not like this current world, defiled by steel and soot, turned into an absolute garbage heap!"
"Then you're welcome to find a village in the countryside and enjoy the pastoral scenery there." The old man chuckled, causing the leader to glare at him with even greater fury.
"You think I would flee? Like a coward? No, we won't run. We will take this world back! We will restore it to its former beauty..."
Midway through his declaration, the leader suddenly froze. His gaze dropped, and he abruptly ripped a button off the old man's collar, staring at it intently. Though it looked like an ordinary button from the outside, turning it over revealed a completely different story—the interior was packed with tiny, intricately turning gears.
"What is this thing? What kind of trickery have you filthy mechanists concocted now?"
"Heh, it's merely a little toy," the old man replied with a calm smile. "I usually enjoy wandering around, and I frequently end up losing my way. So, to ensure my family can always locate me, I designed this small radio transmitter... Ah, my apologies. I suppose you people have absolutely no concept of what that means."
"Speak plainly!"
"To put it simply, through this little device, they are able to track my location..."
"Rumble...!"
Before the old man could finish his sentence, a sudden roaring sound echoed from a short distance away. Hearing the bizarre, mechanical thrumming, the men in the room looked around in bewilderment. In the very next instant, the heavy brick wall beside them suddenly split open. Emerging from the cloud of debris was a Steam Mecha standing a full three meters tall!
"What—what on earth is that thing!" Beholding the massive Steam Mecha materializing from the dust, the crowd was struck with panic. They desperately raised their firearms and opened fire on the mechanized suit.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
For a moment, gunfire echoed continuously throughout the warehouse, but the bullets proved completely useless against the armored hide of the machine. The mecha swung its heavy arms and charged straight into the warehouse. Simultaneously, a youthful, innocent voice echoed from the cockpit.
"Grandpa, I'm here to save you!"
Hearing the voice, the old man's expression instantly froze. The savage leader reacted immediately; he spun around, seized the old man, and pressed a sharp dagger firmly against his throat. "Freeze right there, or I'll kill him on the spot!"
Faced with the threat to the old man's life, the previously rampaging mecha instantly went dead silent. It froze mid-motion, standing completely motionless.
"Get out of that machine right now!"
With a sharp hiss of escaping steam, the armored faceplate at the front of the mecha slid open. A fourteen-year-old girl was sitting inside, glaring at the leader with absolute fury. "You... you shameless scoundrel!"
Though the girl was clearly enraged, it was obvious that she had no choice but to comply under the threat to her grandfather's life. Moments later, she was forced out of the cockpit and bound tightly alongside the old man.
"Sigh... Kiya, what am I going to do with you..." Looking at the dejected girl tied up next to him, the old man was utterly speechless. The leader burst into a loud laugh, walking over to stand before them and eyeing the captured girl.
"Is this your granddaughter, Dr. Tester?"
"Could that card be hidden on her person?"
"It doesn't matter if you refuse to speak." The leader let out a cold sneer. "Search her! Strip her clothes and search every inch!"
"You dare!" Hearing this, the old man finally lost his composure. He glared at the barbarian, intending to berate him fiercely.
However, he quickly realized there was no need. The leader suddenly stiffened. The old man and the girl widened their eyes in absolute shock as the leader's face fragmented before them like a shattered puzzle. They could even see the teeth from his mouth spinning through the air before splashing onto the floor.
Simultaneously, the deafening roar of firearms erupted.
"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The piercing gunfire caused the two captives to instinctively close their eyes. They could hear nothing but the thunderous shots echoing next to their ears, accompanied by the frantic screams and agonizing wails of the cultists. No one knew exactly what was transpiring, and none of them dared to do anything. They could only curl into terrified spheres, instinctively trying to shrink away from the lethal sound.
The onslaught did not last long. Within moments, the gunfire ceased entirely, replaced by an elegant, composed voice. "Alright, you two, you may open your eyes now."
Hearing the voice, the grandfather and granddaughter tentatively opened their eyes. Standing before them was an impeccably dressed young gentleman. He held a cane in one hand and a black revolver in the other, gazing down at them with a calm expression.
"To be perfectly frank, your actions do not entirely surprise me, Miss Qiya," Levi said with a faint smile.