7: Not on the list

Chen Feng slowly stood up from the ground.

This slow, deliberate movement seemed like a signal, causing the originally aggressive, approaching Guards to instinctively halt.

There was none of the expected weakness, nor the trembling of someone begging for mercy.

He stood there, muscle definition faintly visible beneath his tattered prison uniform, like a leopard that had been dormant for a long time. The electric shock that should have been enough to knock someone unconscious seemed to him like merely brushing off a speck of dust.

"A game?" Chen Feng spoke, his voice sounding like it was ground on gravel, carrying a metallic chill. "No, it's an assessment."

"What damn assessment? I think your brain has been fried by the electricity!"

The leading Guard felt insulted by that look, roared, and brought the electric baton in his hand down fiercely toward Chen Feng's crown, sparking a harsh blue light.

Chen Feng did not retreat.

He merely tilted his head slightly.

Whoosh—

The electric baton, carrying strong wind, missed, grazing past his earlobe.

Too slow.

Before the Guard could retract his strength, a large, icy hand had clamped onto his wrist like an iron vise.

"You..."

"Crack!"

There was no unnecessary talk, only the crisp sound of bone snapping, which made everyone in the narrow registration room wince.

"Aah—!!"

The scream instantly drowned out the sound of electricity, and the electric baton clattered to the floor.

Chen Feng released his grip, allowing the Guard to writhe on the ground clutching his strangely twisted wrist, then coldly scanned the other two men.

The two Guards who had been preparing to finish him off now seemed paralyzed. Looking at Chen Feng's unwavering eyes, their Adam's apples bobbed, and they were forced back half a step by his killing intent.

Was this truly that near-death, useless Mine Slave? The one who couldn't even walk steadily a few minutes ago, yet now could effortlessly snap the hand bone of a rigorously trained Guard?

"What's going on? What's all the commotion!"

A series of hurried and heavy footsteps sounded from outside the door.

"Get out of the way, all of you!"

The door was violently shoved open, and a man wearing high-grade protective clothing and a Deputy Captain badge on his chest strode in. His gaze was like a knife, sweeping over the mess before settling on the rigidly standing Chen Feng.

"Who can tell me what happened?" His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the oppressive weight of someone long accustomed to authority.

"Deputy Captain! Th-this bastard is rebelling! He..." A Guard pointed at Chen Feng, stuttering, clearly still shaken from the fright.

Chen Feng didn't give them a chance to sling mud.

He kicked the electric baton away, then slowly raised both hands.

It was a standard surrender posture.

But he stood too steadily, his back too straight; this was not surrender, but silent provocation.

"number 734, requesting activation of the 'Asset Preservation Clause'." Chen Feng's voice was unnervingly calm, drilling clearly into everyone's ears.

The Deputy Captain raised an eyebrow. He recognized the face—a "scrapped asset" heavily marked on the list, scheduled to be thrown into the incinerator today.

Yet now, this "trash" had not only crippled his subordinate but was also quoting legal jargon at him?

"You are not qualified to make a request." The Deputy Captain pressed his hand onto the thermal pistol at his waist, his tone chilling. "Your only remaining value is to be recycled as scrap material."

"No, I am."

Chen Feng looked at him, as if stating an objective truth: "According to Article 15, Chapter 7, Volume 3 of the Giant Star Mining Asset Management Regulations: Any individual asset that demonstrates excess value shall immediately terminate the scrapping procedure and reassess its utilization plan."

Dead silence fell over the room.

The Deputy Captain was stunned, and the Guards behind him looked as if they had seen a ghost.

Was this still the Mine Slave who couldn't even write his own name? He was reciting the company's internal, high-level management regulations? And without a single mistake?

"Regulations?" The Deputy Captain laughed in fury. "Fine, you want to prove 'excess value'? Based on you biting my subordinate like a mad dog?"

"No, based on this."

Chen Feng did not argue, but simply recited a string of cold numbers.

"From 14:00 the day before yesterday to 22:00 yesterday, in the B-7 Abandoned Tunnel, operating the Old Model 243 Robot, I extracted 1.73 tons of standard energy ore. After deducting energy consumption and loss, the net yield rate is 2.3 times the company's standard quota."

At this, Chen Feng looked directly into the Deputy Captain's eyes, his tone certain: "All data is in your terminal. If you don't believe me, you can check now."

The mockery on the Deputy Captain's face slowly froze.

He stared intently at Chen Feng, trying to find even a hint of panic that would betray a lie. But he failed; the man's face held only absolute confidence, as if he were speaking not a lie, but a divine oracle.

As if possessed, the Deputy Captain raised his wrist and opened his holographic terminal.

He pulled up the data for number 734.

The next second, his pupils slightly widened.

The red alert line had been severely breached. The curve representing output, after months of silence, suddenly shot up vertically by 90 degrees the day before yesterday afternoon, finally stopping at a value that even veteran miners would look up to.

2.3 times.

How the hell could a human achieve this? Especially using an Old Model Robot?

Silence.

A suffocating silence enveloped the registration room.

The Deputy Captain slowly raised his head, his gaze toward Chen Feng completely changed. It was no longer the look reserved for trash, but for a monster that had suddenly grown golden teeth.

This was an anomaly. An abnormal specimen that must be reported and held for research.

"Processing suspended."

After a long moment, the Deputy Captain squeezed these words out from between his teeth, his voice dry.

"Take him... confine 734 separately. No one is allowed to touch him without my order."

"Deputy Captain! My hand..." The Guard with the broken hand on the floor was still wailing.

The Deputy Captain didn't even glance at him, only staring deeply at Chen Feng: "You heard me. This is no longer something you can interfere with."

This was the most rational judgment, and the choice most aligned with the company's interests.

As he was escorted out by two newly assigned Guards, Chen Feng paused.

At the perimeter cordon, a towering, burly figure stood. The man had a hideous scar running across his face; he was the Guard Team Captain.

Their gazes collided for an instant in the air.

There was no numbness in the Captain's eyes; instead, they held a chilling scrutiny and excitement—like a seasoned hunter who had finally spotted a fierce beast worthy of the hunt.

Chen Feng felt a slight chill in his heart and withdrew his gaze expressionlessly.

The heavy door of the Solitary Confinement Room slammed shut, isolating the noise outside.

Small, cold, dark.

Chen Feng slid down to sit against the wall, his taut nerves finally relaxing slightly. The first hurdle was cleared, but he knew very well that he had merely gone from being "trash" to "fat meat."

Even more dangerous.

After an unknown amount of time, heavy, dragging footsteps sounded outside the door, accompanied by uncomfortable panting.

The light from the viewing window suddenly dimmed.

A corpulent figure, large enough to completely block the window, pressed against it.

On that greasy, fat face, a pair of small eyes squeezed into slits by rolls of flesh stared intently at Chen Feng inside, flickering with a greed that was almost tangible.

The Mining District Manager, Bachm.

That look seemed to say: Kid, I intend to squeeze every drop of value out of you.