113: The Laws of the Slaughterhouse

Following the encrypted route left by Raven, the wanderer weaved through the shadows of the steel jungle, finally docking in an area that reeked of thick blood and pungent disinfectant. This was Tartarus's meat processing district.

Giant mechanical arms traced dull arcs in the air, hoisting the carcasses of unknown interstellar behemoths and dropping them into processing workshops that looked like deep abysses. The noise of metal grinding against bone, mixed with the sound of high-pressure water guns washing the floors, formed a tooth-gritting symphony.

"Boss, this place..." Lao Mo's face was a bit pale; the smell of rust in the air was almost tangible.

"A slaughterhouse, the place where rules matter most," Chen Feng said calmly, being the first to step down the gangway.

In a room hung with sharp meat hooks, they met the contact Raven had mentioned.

He was a burly man built like a small mountain, bare-chested and wearing only a leather apron soaked in bloodstains. He was wielding a cutting knife longer than Reno's arm, focused on butchering a hanging limb that resembled a giant Leviathan Octopus. With every swing of the blade, he precisely separated muscle from fascia, exposing the pale bone beneath.

He was the "Butcher."

Chen Feng and the other two approached, but he didn't even look up.

"Talk fee, ten thousand credits." Butcher's voice was as coarse as two pieces of metal grinding together; he didn't even spare them a glance. "Pay first, then talk."

Reno's eyebrows instantly knitted together, and Lao Mo also showed a wary expression. This was exactly like the Port Authority official's extortion, only even more blatant.

"Boss, this..." Reno's hand was already resting on the dagger at his waist.

Chen Feng merely smiled, as if he didn't notice the man's rudeness. He raised the personal terminal on his wrist and decisively transferred ten thousand credits.

The soft "beep" was barely audible in the noisy workshop, but Butcher's movements stopped.

"If the intelligence is worth the price, I like straightforward people." Chen Feng's tone was as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

Butcher finally raised his greasy face, his murky eyes lingering on Chen Feng for three seconds. That gaze held no emotion, like he was sizing up a piece of meat about to be carved.

He put down the cutting knife, casually wiped the bloodstains from his hands onto his leather apron, and said in a deep voice, "Follow me."

He turned and walked toward the depths of the workshop. As he passed Chen Feng, he dropped another sentence.

"Wait for me at the Wishing Well in the Central Plaza. Before I return, don't cause any trouble, and don't solve any trouble."

Half an hour later, Central Plaza.

This was a rare "civilized" zone in the Free Port. A giant holographic Wishing Well in the center of the plaza shifted through brilliant colors, surrounded by diverse alien races.

Chen Feng and the others found an inconspicuous corner to sit and wait quietly.

Soon, a scene of bullying, commonplace in Tartarus, played out before their eyes.

A burly Lizardman mercenary, his skin covered in horny scales, was grinning as he cornered a small Snail-kin merchant against a wall. The Snail-kin merchant carried a massive shell, and from the tentacles extending from it hung many shimmering data chips.

"Information fragments? A piece of trash like you dares to sell information?" The Lizardman mercenary shoved the Snail-kin merchant's shell, making him stumble.

"My, My Lord... I'm just... selling some intel on public space lanes..." The Snail-kin merchant trembled with fear, his voice shaking.

"Cut the crap! Have you paid your protection fee?!" The Lizardman slapped him, knocking the Snail-kin merchant's entire stall to the ground. Colorful data chips scattered everywhere, covered in dust.

Reno's fists instantly clenched, his knuckles making a light "cracking" sound, and fire practically spat from his eyes. What he hated most was this kind of bullying of the weak!

He suddenly stood up, lifting his foot to step forward.

A hand, however, clamped down on his shoulder like a steel vice.

It was Chen Feng.

"Do you want to save him, or do you want the three of us to die here together?" Chen Feng's voice was extremely low, yet it carried an unquestionable coldness that pierced directly into Reno's ears.

"But Boss..." Reno's teeth were clenched tight.

"Here, a sense of justice is the most expensive luxury; we can't afford it." Chen Feng looked at Reno, his eyes so calm they were devoid of any ripple. "Remember Butcher's words: don't solve any trouble."

Reno's body trembled slightly from anger and extreme suppression. He watched the Lizardman mercenary triumphantly extort the last few credits from the Snail-kin merchant, and watched the poor merchant tremble as he picked up the stained chips one by one and fled in a panic.

People came and went in the plaza, and not a single person spared them a second glance, as if this were just a boring farce.

Ultimately, under Chen Feng's cold gaze, Reno dejectedly relaxed his fists and sat back down. A deep sense of humiliation and powerlessness gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

"Not bad, rookie," a muffled voice sounded behind them.

Butcher had appeared there at some unknown point, chewing on a strip of dark red jerky, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"You passed the second test." He spat out a piece of fascia and chuckled. "That lizard is one of my men. I had to make sure my clients aren't the kind of 'holy mothers' whose brains are stuffed with chivalric novels. Those people die the fastest, and they'd drag me down with them."

Butcher's secret office was hidden in the deepest part of the meat processing plant, its heavy lead doors sealing out all outside noise.

The room was simple, containing only a large metal table and a few chairs.

"Speak, what's the job?" Butcher sat down and propped his feet up on the table.

"Two tasks," Chen Feng said succinctly. "First, I want all the intelligence on the Alliance's 'Higher Academy.' Second, investigate a seller of undead crystals named 'Nether'."

Upon hearing the first task, Butcher's expression didn't change at all, as if they were just discussing a common transaction.

But when the name "Nether" came out of Chen Feng's mouth, the fat on Butcher's face visibly twitched, and for the first time, his gaze became solemn.

He took his feet off the table, leaned forward, and stared intently at Chen Feng.

"Kid, are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Butcher remained silent for a long time, the atmosphere in the room instantly becoming oppressive.

"This job will cost extra. A lot, lot more money," he said in a deep voice. "And I can tell you, the matter of Nether is much more trouble than the Academy."

He paused, seemingly organizing his words.

"As for the Academy... you'll have to do the preliminary reconnaissance yourselves. My people don't want to die under the Alliance Agents' purification beams."

Butcher fished out a data chip from under the table and tossed it onto the surface.

"This is a map of the Academy's perimeter, marking several safe observation points. You'll have to go see for yourselves. Once I'm sure you have the ability to handle this trouble, I'll give you deeper intelligence."

Chen Feng picked up the chip and nodded. "Fine."

"Very well." Butcher leaned back in his chair, returning to his lazy demeanor. "Once you come back alive, we'll talk about the price for the next step."