144: A steampunk version of "Spider Cave"

The large iron gates of Shengfa Garment Factory were clamped shut like a rusted mouth sealed with official strips.

Outside the gates, the midnight chirping of cicadas made people feel restless.

Inside, however, there was a different kind of... roar that followed a scalp-numbing silence.

Zhou Dalong stood before the iron gates. The Chunghwa cigarette in his hand had already burnt down to the filter; only when it scorched his fingers did he give it a sudden shake. His expression was uglier than if he had swallowed a fly.

The concrete ground beneath his feet was vibrating.

This vibration wasn't the sharp clatter of a large punch press, but a continuous, muffled thrumming akin to the heartbeat of a giant beast. The frequency was extremely fast and steady, sending a numbing sensation from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head.

"Thump, thump, thump..."

"Old Liu." Zhou Dalong's voice was a bit airy, as if something was blocking his throat. "Are you sure the power bureau cut off the transformer?"

Old Liu, the electrician, patted his chest confidently, though the lecherous smile on his face froze. "President Zhou, I guarantee it with my life! The power bureau's engineering truck came personally yesterday afternoon. Under the pretext of 'rectifying aged wiring,' they cut the high-voltage lines directly. The seals are still pasted on the electrical box! Right now, this Flourishing Development factory couldn't even light up a flashlight!"

"Then what is this noise?"

Zhou Dalong spun around abruptly, pointing at the trembling iron gates. "There's no power. Are they raising a Tyrannosaurus Rex inside? Or are these women collectively performing some spirit dance instead of sleeping at midnight?!"

No one could answer him.

The sound grew louder, as if something was awakening, roaring. An inexplicable sense of pressure seeped through the gaps in the heavy iron gates, making the hair on the back of Zhou Dalong's neck stand on end.

If it were a diesel generator, there would be pungent black smoke and the chugging sound of an exhaust pipe.

But this sound... was too pure.

The pure friction of metal, the pure sound of wind, and something else... the synchronized breathing of many people.

"Playing ghost!"

The fear in Zhou Dalong's heart turned into rage. In this neck of the woods, once the power bureau issued a rectification order, no one should be able to rise from the dead.

"I want to see what kind of tricks that woman Chen Yun can play on me!"

He took two steps back and, fueled by a surge of ruthlessness, raised his crocodile leather shoe and delivered a vicious kick to the unlocked side door.

Bang!

The rust-speckled iron door swung open at the impact, slamming heavily against the wall.

However, in the next second...

Zhou Dalong didn't rush in shouting as he had planned.

He froze at the threshold as if a paralysis spell had been cast on him.

Boom—!

A visible wave of white heat, carrying an aura so intense it was suffocating, crashed over his face like a beast released from its cage.

"Cough, cough, cough—!"

Old Liu, following behind, was caught off guard. He was blown back by the airflow and fell onto his buttocks, coughing violently. "This... cough... what is this smell? Is the factory on fire?!"

It wasn't fire.

But it was close enough.

The scent was too domineering. It was the smell of scalding engine oil, the scorched scent of thousands of meters of cotton fabric being rubbed, the cloyingly sweet body fragrance of dozens of fermenting women, and at its core—the most lethal part—was a masculine aura as pungent as strong liquor and as wild as musk.

The moment this scent rushed into his nasal cavity, Zhou Dalong's head buzzed. His lower body tightened inexplicably, followed by a sudden, groundless wave of panic and shortness of breath.

It was as if... as if he, a herbivore, had accidentally stumbled into the mating grounds of a top predator.

"Holy shit..."

Zhou Dalong forced himself to endure the physiological discomfort, squinting through the layers of white steam that looked like a fairyland to finally see the scene inside the workshop.

This single look made him feel like his forty-odd years of life had been lived in vain.

How was this a broken garment factory on the verge of bankruptcy?

This was practically the Pansi Cave from 'Journey to the West,' or Taishang Laojun's alchemy room after the furnace exploded!

The dim emergency lights refracted through the thick white mist, creating eerie halos of light.

The entire workshop was as hot as a steamer.

Yet, dozens of female workers seemed oblivious to the heat. Every one of their faces bore an abnormal flush, strands of hair were stuck messily to their cheeks, and their eyes held a fanaticism that made one's heart skip a beat.

Their hands moved so fast they left afterimages, and their feet pumped the pedals at high speeds.

Not a single person spoke.

Not a single person complained.

Not a single person even looked up at him.

Everyone's gaze, whether intentionally or not, converged at the end of the workshop.

There was the eye of the storm.

Zhou Dalong followed their gazes, and his pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinheads.

"Is that... a person?"

In the shadows at the end of the workshop, a massive figure was maintaining an extremely exaggerated posture.

It was a "machine."

A super engine forged from flesh, bone, and sweat.

Wang Fugui's bare upper body was no longer its original skin tone, completely covered in a congested purple-red, like copper just pulled from a steel-making furnace. Industrial canvas belts bit deep into his muscles. With every pull, his sinewy muscles trembled and writhed violently, as if countless frantic steel bars were hidden beneath his skin.

"Hooo—haaa—"

"Hooo—haaa—"

His breathing was terrifyingly heavy. With every exhale, two visible white plumes of air shot from his nose and mouth, merging into the surrounding mist.

That was the sight of sweat instantly vaporizing.

Gulp.

Zhou Dalong swallowed hard.

He had been in the underworld for many years and had seen people who could fight and those who didn't value their lives, but he had never seen this... this kind of monster that relied purely on physical strength to force industrial machinery to turn.

That was a cast-iron flywheel!

That was the main shaft driving dozens of machines!

The power bureau had pulled the switch, yet he had actually used brute force to keep it going all night?

What terrified Zhou Dalong even more was the man's state.

He was clearly performing such lethal hard labor, yet the man's face didn't have a pained or distorted expression.

On the contrary, was he... smiling?

It was a nearly bestial, ferocious grin born from a state of extreme excitement.

Just then, perhaps sensing the malicious gaze at the door...

Wang Fugui, in the midst of his frantic exertion, suddenly turned his head.

Across a dozen meters of steam filled with an ambiguous atmosphere,

Their eyes met.

What kind of eyes were those?

The whites were bloodshot, but the pupils were shining black. The usual honest silliness was gone, replaced by a fear akin to staring directly into an abyss.

It was the killing intent and pressure instinctively released by a male creature when its territory is invaded.

Boom!

Zhou Dalong felt as if a thunderclap had gone off in his mind.

In that instant, he felt he wasn't looking at a country bumpkin, but at a Siberian tiger that had just finished feeding, blood still dripping from its mouth.

Wang Fugui didn't stop his pace; he didn't even break his rhythm.

He just stared fixedly at Zhou Dalong, the ferocious grin on his face widening slightly to reveal teeth that were eerily white in the gloom.

"Who... is there?"

The voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding against rusted iron.

This wasn't just a question.

This was a gaze looking down from the top of the food chain.

"Ah!"

Before Zhou Dalong could react, Old Liu, the electrician on the ground, collapsed first. That intense, perverse masculine pressure made a middle-aged man like him, whose body had been hollowed out by wine and lust over the years, feel an instinctive urge to submit and tremble.

"Ghost... monster! That's a monster!" Old Liu scrambled backward on all fours, his crotch instantly becoming wet.

"Who the hell let you in!"

A sudden roar, like a thunderclap on level ground, completely broke Zhou Dalong's paralysis.

Bald Strong, who had been moving goods nearby, was now shirtless, his bald head gleaming. Holding a solid iron rod he had scavenged from somewhere, he rushed over with five or six red-eyed lackeys like a pack of mad dogs protecting their food.

Bald Strong was also in a "drugged" state right now.

Having inhaled Brother Fugui's "immortal energy" for half the night, he felt like he could punch a bull to death. His hormones were overflowing with nowhere to go, and his mind was filled with scenes of Wu Ya flipping tables from 'Young and Dangerous.'

Seeing Zhou Dalong, an extremely excited expression appeared on Bald Strong's fleshy, trembling face. "Zhou the Skinflint! Are you here to bring your Grandpa Strong some side dishes for his drinks?!"

"Fuck!"

Bald Strong slammed the iron rod in his hand against the ground, sparks flying with a loud clang. "Brothers, close the doors! Beat the dog! Rip this old geezer's legs off to liven things up for Brother Fugui!"

"Roar!!"

The lackeys behind him roared in unison, their momentum even more ferocious than a triad boss from Causeway Bay.

How were these the same ordinary workers who usually only knew how to be subservient to the boss?

They were practically a den of bandits who had just taken stimulants!

Zhou Dalong watched the approaching iron rod, then looked at the terrifying beast in the distance still tirelessly pulling the flywheel in the steam. His last line of psychological defense completely crumbled.

Fear.

Not just fear of violence, but a fear of the unknown, an incomprehensible supernatural power.

The power bureau's seals could block the electrical switch, but they couldn't block this monster's life force!

"Run! Run!"

Zhou Dalong let out a strange cry and turned to flee. All his dignity as a boss and his monopolistic schemes turned into bullshit at this moment. He only wanted to get as far away as possible from this ghost place filled with demonic energy!

Because his legs were weak, his left foot tripped over his right as he turned, and he fell flat on his face on the oil-stained concrete floor.

"President Zhou!" Old Liu cried out, trying to help him up.

"Get away!" Zhou Dalong scrambled on all fours and rushed out of the gate. He didn't even dare to pick up the crocodile leather shoe that had fallen off, running into the dark night with one foot bare, as if he had seen a ghost.

"Hahahaha! Coward! Wimp!"

Bald Strong stood at the door, laughing wildly as he watched the two flee in disarray.

He raised the iron rod and pointed at the receding figures. "If you ever dare to even look at Flourishing Development Factory again, I'll gouge your eyes out and stomp on them like lightbulbs!"