43: The overlord's lifting of the cauldron shook the entire factory; the countdown to death had begun. [Revised]

A faint, gas-leak-like “hiss~” sound came from deep inside the machine, then vanished. Li Fried Dough Stick smirked as he retrieved the wrench, tucked it into his clothes, adjusted his collar, and casually blended into the crowd.

At two in the afternoon, the scorching sun baked the earth, but the Forging Workshop was even hotter and stuffier than outside. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of rust mixed with machine oil. The “Iron Coffin,” covered by a canvas sheet, had been pushed to the center of the workshop, surrounded by layers of curious coworkers.

The Factory Director cleared his throat and announced the start of the competition.

Li Fried Dough Stick confidently held a brand-new German-made toolbox, pretending to tinker and muttering specialized jargon that nobody could understand.

Wang Fugui, however, held nothing. He merely circled the Steel Behemoth, walking round and round. Instead of looking with his eyes, he extended his large, calloused hands, pressed them against the cold casing, and closed his eyes.

Buzzing~

An extremely subtle resonance passed through his palms and into his body. Relying on his superhuman physical perception, he could almost “hear” every component inside the machine. He heard that the transmission shaft was misaligned by about two centimeters—this offset was preventing the gears from meshing.

But there was another sound.

An extremely unstable “Qi” was tightly suppressed deep inside the machine, like a beast whose exit was blocked, frantically accumulating power, ready to tear everything apart at any moment. That suffocating, about-to-explode malevolence made the hair on his body stand on end.

This thing is wrong. Very wrong.

“What’s wrong, ‘delivery’?” Li Fried Dough Stick walked over, arms crossed, speaking mockingly. “Only good at reciting books, but can’t fix a machine? This iron lump doesn’t care about your brute strength. If you can’t do it, just kneel down, kowtow to your big brother, admit defeat, and stop making a fool of yourself here!”

The surrounding coworkers also shook their heads and whispered among themselves.

“It’s over. Fugui is going to fail this time.”

“Even the Master Craftsman in the factory couldn’t fix this German Machine. Can a sack-carrier like him do it?”

“Sigh, he’s still too young and too impulsive.”

Mockery, discussion, and pity wove into a net, descending upon Wang Fugui.

Wang Fugui suddenly opened his eyes, ignoring anyone. He walked up to the machine, ripped off the blue work vest soaked in sweat, and tossed it onto the ground.

“Awoo~”

A burst of uncontrollable gasps erupted from the crowd, especially from the female workers.

That was not the sturdy build of an ordinary farmer; it was a perfect physique, like an ancient Greek sculpture, every muscle honed by countless hours of training. His bronze skin, slick with oil and sweat, reflected a dazzling light. His bulging muscles were clearly defined, and veins coiled like Earth Dragons beneath his thick arms and broad back, embodying a primal and savage aesthetic of violence.

At the window of the Office Building, Chen Yun gripped the window frame tightly, her fingernails digging into the wood. She felt her breath stolen away; that body, brimming with masculine power, was like a ball of fire, burning her eyes and nerves even from dozens of meters away.

Under the horrified gaze of everyone, Wang Fugui didn't use any tools. He bent down, lowered his center of gravity, and rooted his legs deeply into the concrete floor like old tree roots. He pressed his broad, rock-like shoulder firmly against the machine's cold steel base.

What is he doing?

Is he crazy?

This thought exploded simultaneously in everyone's mind.

The mockery on Li Fried Dough Stick's face froze, turning into the stunned disbelief of someone watching a lunatic.

Wang Fugui closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and his chest swelled high, as if he had swallowed the flames of an entire blast furnace. All that remained in his mind was Lin Xiaocao's stubborn little face, and that filthy, stinking public toilet.

I want to be an official! I want a house!

The next second, his eyes were wide open and bloodshot, and a non-human roar squeezed out from deep in his throat.

“LIFT~ IT~ UP!”

The sound shook heaven and earth, making the corrugated iron roof of the entire workshop hum!

All the muscles in his body instantly swelled to their limit, every vein bulged out more than a finger's width. That terrifying power traveled along his spine, through his shoulder, and slammed hard into the Steel Behemoth!

Scree~ch~ing~

The sound of metal twisting, enough to set teeth on edge, rang out.

Under the gaze of hundreds of wide-open eyes, the German Stamping Machine—which was considered scrap iron, weighed several tons, and was a behemoth that even a crane had to handle carefully—was actually lifted up on one corner by a mere mortal body!

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

All the mockery, all the discussion, all the doubt, were shattered by this sight of a mortal shaking a god!

Taking advantage of the instant the machine was lifted, Wang Fugui suddenly raised his right foot and, using all his strength, kicked the crooked transmission shaft!

“Clang!”

With a deafening boom, the transmission shaft was forcibly corrected by this unreasonable, brute strength and slammed heavily back into its slot!

Only then did Wang Fugui let out a breath, sinking his shoulders and letting the machine drop heavily back to the ground.

“Boom!”

The entire workshop shook.

Deadly silence.

The entire place was deathly silent. You could hear a pin drop.

A few seconds later, someone shouted.

“Oh my goodness!”

Immediately, cheers and screams, like a mountain tsunami, detonated the entire workshop like dynamite!

“Fugui is awesome!”

“The Overlord! He’s a living Overlord!”

“Too fierce! Too fierce!”

The male workers were flushed with excitement, waving their fists. The female workers' eyes were shining—a frenzy mixed with adoration, obsession, and primal desire.

Wang Fugui wiped the sweat from his face, his chest heaving violently. Ignoring the cheers, he turned to the Master Craftsman nearest to him and roared with all his might.

“Start the machine!”

The Master Craftsman, still immersed in profound shock, jumped at the roar. He quickly scrambled to the control panel and, with trembling hands, pressed the green start button.

On Li Fried Dough Stick's face, however, a trace of post-despair madness and venom surfaced.

Start it! Start it! Blow all of you sky-high!

The machine did not emit the expected healthy roar. Instead, an ear-piercing, increasingly shrill shriek came from deep within!

Everyone's cheering instantly ceased.

Wang Fugui's heart sank abruptly; the ominous premonition instantly enveloped him.

Everyone's gaze simultaneously turned to the Pressure Gauge on the side of the machine.

The red needle was no longer climbing slowly. Like a mad dog that had broken its chain, it rushed frantically and decisively toward the red forbidden zone on the far right of the dial, moving at a self-destructive speed!

The Pressure Relief Valve that Li Fried Dough Stick had secretly loosened finally revealed its most fatal fangs at this moment!

Bang!

With a crisp snap, the Pressure Gauge's glass cover instantly shattered under the immense pressure, sending glass fragments flying everywhere!

Rivets at the machine's main connection points popped off one after another like bullets, shooting out lethal sparks! A blast of scorching white high-pressure steam erupted from the tearing seams with a mournful shriek!

A gray-haired Master Craftsman watched the terrifying scene before him, the color draining instantly from his face. He used all his strength to let out a desperate, hoarse, and distorted scream.

“Run! The boiler is going to explode!”

The crowd instantly collapsed. Fanatical worship was powerless against the threat of death. Everyone's face was etched with extreme terror as they pushed, cried, and scattered madly toward the outside of the workshop.