2: Chapter 2 Blood Tax and the First Fire

Metal chiseling sounds came from the ventilation duct overhead, 'clack, clack, clack.' The rhythm was steady, carrying a teeth-aching mechanical feel, not like a beast digging soil, but rather like measuring the thickness of rock strata.

Lin Yuan's back pressed against the cold blast door. The tactical visor's HUD displayed a bright red countdown: [Structural Integrity: 67%... 64%...]. The alloy partition of the ventilation duct was bulging inward. Sharp arthropod tips pierced the paint, the scraping sound reminiscent of fingernails dragging across an enamel tub. The Sand Scorpion didn't ram the main door; they chose to chisel the side wall, knowing to avoid the front and seek structural weak points.

"Big Brother, can they... can they dig holes?" Rat Eye huddled in the corner, clutching that rusted rebar, his knuckles white as a dead man's bones. His voice was trembling, but his eyes were fixed on the bulging cracks in the ventilation duct, calculating the collapse angle.

Lin Yuan didn't answer. He looked down at his palm; the servo-skull fragment was embedded in the center of the foundry table's groove, the interface where metal and bone fused glowing with a ghostly blue light. On his retina, the system interface was no longer in a gray locked state, and lines of data streamed by in a blood-red hue:

[STC Rapid Casting Protocol Initiated] [Available Templates: Mark IV Laser Pistol (Standard), Monolithic Carapace Chest Plate (Light), Tactical Respirator (Filter Type)] [Resource Requirement: Biological Tribute (Human DNA Sample) + 0.3% God-Emperor's Gaze] [Warning: Current Gaze 0.2%, payment will reach 0.5%, entering mild cognitive interference interval]

The foundry table had awakened. The hydraulic pump issued a sigh-like hiss, and the mechanical arm descended from the ceiling, the sound of gears meshing like bones grinding. The metal plate on the table split open, revealing writhing biomass conduits beneath, dark red liquid pulsating within the transparent tube walls, waiting to be fed.

Lin Yuan's gaze swept across the three options. The respirator could alleviate radiation poisoning, but it couldn't stop a Sand Scorpion's chelicerae; the carapace armor could save his life, but it couldn't solve the dilemma of being besieged; the laser pistol could penetrate chitinous shells and open a path to survival in the complex pipe structure of the B3 level. The system only listed possibilities, like a menu without price tags, waiting for him to calculate the cost-performance ratio himself.

"Biological tribute..." Lin Yuan repeated in a low voice, his gaze shifting to Rat Eye. The street urchin was staring at the foundry table, his pupils contracted with fear, his body shrinking into the shadows, his hand reaching toward the direction of the escape passage behind him. He was evaluating, waiting, like a desert jerboa lingering on the edge of a trap.

Lin Yuan pulled the tactical dagger from his waist. The blade flashed an arc under the blue light of the foundry table. He didn't stab Rat Eye; instead, he sliced open his own left arm. Blood gushed out, dripping onto the interface of the biomass conduits. The metal greedily sucked up the blood, making a gurgling sound, and the dark red liquid instantly turned crimson, surging through the pipes.

"You... you're feeding it blood?" Rat Eye's voice changed pitch; it wasn't fear, but a kind of horror at seeing a madman self-mutilate.

"Cheaper than feeding it your life." Lin Yuan gritted his teeth, feeling the dizziness of blood being drained. The foundry table's mechanical arm stabbed down violently, a needle piercing his wound to extract a DNA sample. Intense pain surged up his spine like an electric current, but he stood steady, his right hand already pressed on the casting confirmation button.

[God-Emperor's Gaze: 0.2% → 0.5%]

The casting began.

The mechanical arm danced frantically, the hydraulic clamp gripping a piece of scrap metal, a high-temperature torch instantly burning it crimson. Gears crushed the metal, emitting a nauseating squeezing sound. At the same time, the biomass conduits sprayed white mist, flesh and steel merging on the foundry table. Lin Yuan smelled a scent, like church incense mixed with the charred stench of rotting flesh, holy yet disgusting. Golden phantoms flashed across his retina, massive gears turning in the void, a skeleton sitting on the Golden Throne looking down at him, its gaze piercing through time and space.

That gaze had no emotion, only cold calculation. Lin Yuan felt his skull gripped by invisible pressure, his eardrums bulging. A sound was coming from very far away, like the chanting of thousands of machines synthesized, repeating an incomprehensible binary hymn.

The foundry table ejected a puff of steam, and the mechanical arm rose slowly, holding a heavy pistol in its palm. Mark IV Laser Pistol, black polymer gun body, heat dissipation grilles arranged like ribs, energy pack showing three full bars. Lin Yuan grasped the grip, the coldness of the metal instantly overwhelming the sharp pain in his arm. The gun was heavy, twice as heavy as the electromagnetic coil guns common on the wasteland, and a trace of warmth from his blood still remained on the grip.

The ventilation duct overhead groaned under the strain, and the partition collapsed entirely. Three Worker Scorpions dropped down, their carapaces gleaming with an oily purple-black under the blue light, compound eyes reflecting the ghostly light of the foundry table. They didn't pounce immediately, but scattered, surrounding in a fan shape, tail stingers raised high, knowing to avoid the frontal line of fire.

Lin Yuan raised his hand and pulled the trigger.

There was no loud bang, only a dazzling crimson beam tearing through the air, the pungent smell of ozone instantly filling the room. The head of the leftmost Worker Scorpion exploded, green body fluids splashing on the wall with a sizzling corrosive sound. The second Sand Scorpion swerved sharply, the laser grazing its carapace and leaving a scorched mark; it actually knew how to anticipate the angle of fire.

"Only two shots left." Lin Yuan thought silently, his body already rolling to the left. The third Worker Scorpion's tail stinger nailed the ground where he had just stood, piercing the alloy floor and sparking fire. Lin Yuan knelt on one knee, raising the muzzle, not aiming at the attacking Worker Scorpion, but firing at the pipe above its head.

The laser hit the valve of the steam pipe, high-pressure steam gushing out, white mist instantly engulfing half the room. The Worker Scorpions emitted sharp hisses; they relied on heat sensing, and the steam interfered with their perception. Lin Yuan rushed to the door amidst the chaos, grabbed the dazed Rat Eye, and pushed him toward the depths of the corridor.

"Run! There's a maintenance tunnel deep in the B3 level!"

The remaining two Worker Scorpions rampaged in the steam, but their movements were clearly hesitant, no longer the fury of beasts, but calculating wind direction and temperature. As he retreated, Lin Yuan fished the last electromagnetic interference grenade from his waist and threw it at the metal shelving behind him, intense electromagnetic noise exploding in the narrow space.

The Worker Scorpions let out painful shrieks; their nervous systems were clearly modified, sensitive to electromagnetic pulses. The two Sand Scorpions collided, their compound eyes flashing with chaotic red light, then turned around—not to pursue, but to retreat. They climbed the walls, paused at the corner, their tail stingers carving a spiral mark on the ground, green slime left on the wall to form a twisted symbol, then quickly vanished into the darkness of the ventilation duct.

Pheromone marking. They were marking the prey, waiting for reinforcements.

Lin Yuan leaned against the wall, gasping for air, the laser gun in his hand already hot, the energy pack showing one red bar—two shots used, one left. The wound on his left arm was still oozing blood, but strangely, the nausea and dizziness from radiation poisoning had vanished, replaced by a false sense of lightness, as if his body had been temporarily repaired, but something was rotting deep inside.

He took a waterproof bag from his bosom, inside was a palm-sized old-world military logbook, the cover stamped with the faded United Strategic Command badge. Tearing the packaging with his teeth, he pulled out a half-length hard pencil and began to write under the dim emergency light. The paper was recycled, rough, and absorbent.

[Day 47, B3 level foundry table. Cost accounting: Blood loss approximately 400cc, God-Emperor's Gaze 0.5%, mild auditory hallucinations (mechanical chanting) appeared. Equipment acquired: Mark IV Laser Pistol, 3 energy packs (2 consumed).]

The pen tip paused, Lin Yuan's knuckles turning white from the pressure. He continued writing:

[Questioning of system ethical boundaries: The so-called "biological tribute" is essentially alchemy using human DNA as a catalyst, objectifying life into resource units. Its logic is isomorphic to the old-world decision of "sacrificing civilians to preserve military factories," both simplifying humans into expendable numbers. If this path is extended, it will inevitably lead to the slippery slope of "trading others' lives for efficiency." Bottom line confirmation: No matter how great the survival pressure, never use the innocent as sacrifices. STC technology is a tool, not a master. If the system requires human lives as a cost, the system will be rendered invalid.]

Finishing the last stroke, Lin Yuan tore off the page, folded it, and stuffed it back into the innermost layer of the waterproof bag. This was his anchor, the coordinate to prevent getting lost under the erosion of the God-Emperor's Gaze.

"My Lord..." Rat Eye's voice came from the shadows, changed in tone, no longer "Big Brother," but a "My Lord" carrying a certain awe and fear. He stood three meters away, not approaching, still clutching that rebar, but his fingers no longer trembled. He was looking at the gun in Lin Yuan's hand, looking at the foundry table that was still emitting heat, his eyes filled with greed, calculation, and deep wariness.

"You just now... made a deal with that machine." Rat Eye licked his dry lips, "With blood."

Lin Yuan put away the logbook and laser gun, not correcting the address. He walked toward the foundry table; the biomass conduits on the table had retracted, leaving only a clean metal panel. In the crevice beneath the table, he pried out a broken tubular remnant, the inner tube engraved with a line of coordinates that perfectly matched the location of the Black Tower Energy Station, and there was faded spray-painted text on the tube wall: "Purification Protocol - Authorized Personnel Only."

H007 clue acquired. The groundwater of the Rust Canyon was directly connected to the Black Tower energy pipeline through this filter.

He continued to inspect the foundry table, pressing the hidden button on the side, the panel sliding open to reveal the data interface beneath. A worn memory card popped out of the slot, stained with dried blood. Lin Yuan inserted his tactical visor, and the 3D map unfolded on his retina. Rust Canyon, District 7, the location of the Black Tower Energy Station marked in bright red, with a line of small text next to it: [Ark Project - Shelter 07], [Warning: Mechanical Demon Infested].

The foundry table suddenly beeped, and a holographic projection rose from the blood pool: [DNA Verification Passed, Lin Clan Authorization: Level 2 (Researcher)].

Lin Yuan stared at that "Level 2 Authorization" identifier, remembering the servo-skull fragment left by his grandfather. It wasn't just a key; it was a verification of bloodline.

"My Lord," Rat Eye called out again, taking a step closer this time, but his hand was still reaching toward the darkness behind him, where there was a maintenance ladder, "That map... can you let me see it? I'm familiar with it, I know which path can avoid the Sand Scorpion swarm and go straight to the bottom of the canyon."

He was lying. Lin Yuan could hear that deliberately relaxed tone, the fake smile of a wasteland merchant before a betrayal. Rat Eye was planning, planning how to use this "Iron-folk" to find the Black Tower, then steal the technology, or worse.

But Lin Yuan didn't expose him. He needed a guide, needed intelligence, even if this loyalty was mixed with ninety percent poison.

"Lead the way." Lin Yuan put away the memory card and the filter remnant, holding the laser gun, the muzzle slightly drooping, but his finger resting on the trigger, "If you take one wrong step, the next laser won't hit the wall."

Rat Eye lowered his head, his bangs covering his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly: "Understood, My Lord."

The two walked into the depths of the B3 level, the corridor getting colder and colder, frost covering the walls. Turning a corner, Lin Yuan stopped. At the end of the corridor was a row of cryogenic hibernation pods, thick frost on the glass, vaguely showing the curled-up human silhouettes inside. The number on the pods was clearly visible: ARK-07.

Lin Yuan's temples suddenly throbbed with pain, the mechanical chanting sounded again, clearer this time, as if someone were tapping gears inside his skull. 0.5% Gaze, the first crack.

He tightened his grip on the laser gun and walked toward the frozen graveyard.