Chapter 81#
Gears of Fate 23#
Only after confirming the steam engine blocked his line of sight did Anphiel open his eyes.
Upon opening them, he saw Yu Feichen lounging casually beside a smoke duct, gazing at him intently.
Yu Feichen’s emotions seemed somewhat unusual. Perhaps it should be attributed to the monotonous mechanical world tiring this person. From what Yu Feichen liked, he preferred fresh, varied environments.
Anphiel: “What’s wrong with this place?”
“Nothing,” Yu Feichen gestured toward the steam engine forest. “Main control.”
Since both of them had found their way here, it was undoubtedly the fortress’s core. The current problem was identifying which among a dozen identical steam engines was the most critical one.
Anphiel said: “The largest.”
Yu Feichen spoke as if he’d anticipated the answer: “The third from that side.”
“The largest” didn’t mean the largest steam engine but the largest gear. They’d seen that thing on the ceiling their first day here. Now standing on the top level, it was even easier to spot.
Steam engines drove gears in sequence. Transmission structures varied infinitely, but regardless of how they transmitted, one rule was inevitable—energy loss.
Whether heat, motion, or that mysterious magical power—in the real world, when they transferred from one object to another, loss was inevitable. The further along the transmission chain, the less energy remained. So large gears easily drove small gears, but small gears struggled to progressively leverage large gears. Anyone without holes in their head could understand this principle.
So one only needed to find which steam engine connected to the largest diameter initial gear, and everything would be solved. While exploring the ceiling, Yu Feichen had already found it.
But even knowing the key didn’t mean they could immediately break the dungeon. The two of them, for convenience of exploration, brought neither tools nor spells. Their energy liquid barely remained a quarter cup—Anphiel had drunk some, and Yu Feichen, nearly depleted, had consumed some after retrieving it from Anphiel.
That is, they had to wait for the spell readers and mechanical arm before doing anything. To get the machinery, they only had two paths—wait for teammates to deliver it or return themselves. However, the teammates didn’t know where they were. Returning meant wasting enormous time.
Yu Feichen: “The path from the fourth workshop here is difficult. We return through your tunnel to the first workshop. Not returning all night—Vincent or Lingwei can figure out our situation. Curriculum difficulty has already peaked. If they recklessly attend class, they can’t manage. They’ll actively search for us.”
Anphiel “mm’d,” then quietly looked at the third steam engine from the left. His expression was as calm as he was. Yu Feichen observed this. Strangely, though he’d received many unreasonable complaints for not understanding clients’ emotions, he could always read Anphiel’s psychology without a word. Examining the present scene, he detected a hint of questioning beneath Anphiel’s calm.
This person was thinking: since you can do everything, why did I need to come?
As for why confusion arose, it was probably because the rabbit hole was too difficult to climb.
That Anphiel also experienced this sensation gave Yu Feichen a comfortable feeling of successful revenge.
After sharing the final quarter energy liquid to restore energy, they descended the tunnel. Time was urgent—no hesitation allowed. When they returned to the first workshop, the ore transport train also thundered to a halt, beginning to unload cargo. They barely made it.
Yu Feichen counted—everyone was here. Not just here, but they’d brought everything. This was a collective truancy.
He: “What class should we be attending today?”
Bai Song: “The loudspeaker said a graduation ceremony.”
Yu Feichen: “…”
“Graduation ceremony” sounded good in normal worlds, but in fragment worlds, it was as sinister as the temple’s “resurrection ceremony.”
Chen Tong said: “After graduation, isn’t that like upgrading credentials? Like becoming a high school student from middle school. We figured, damn, maybe after graduation we’d directly upgrade from person to machine. After thinking it over, everyone just ran.”
Bai Song pointed at the propeller loudspeaker quietly hovering not far from his shoulder: “Hope there’s no punishment, since that ghost loudspeaker followed us here. We tested last night when you two were gone—it follows wherever the most badges are, but we didn’t dare not wear them.”
Whether there was punishment, no one could guarantee. They’d have to take it step by step. Anphiel took people off the train, continuing through the rabbit hole toward the main control, bringing all important machinery with them. Yu Feichen stayed with Lingwei and Chen Tong, having them follow him through the fourth workshop’s crevice passages.
Chen Tong: “Why?”
Lingwei seemed to understand without asking.
Yu Feichen dismissed Chen Tong like he would an ignorant but inquiring client: “Wait and see.”
After “wait and see,” the train stopped at the second workshop—where papyrus was produced. Seeing Yu Feichen packing stack after stack of papyrus, Chen Tong suddenly understood: “Got it, we’re becoming thieves.”
“Thieves” sounded ugly. Yu Feichen beautified it: “Robbery.”
Chen Tong chuckled: “Whatever, now I’m into it.”
Chen Tong got to work. Lingwei Daoist beside him moved with elegant grace but was ruthless in taking things. The three together took thousands of sheets. At the third workshop, they plundered ink and quills. Then at the fourth workshop, they casually pocketed a dish of magical liquid and began climbing upward through the crevices.
“Shit, these things are too damn heavy,” Chen Tong said, struggling upward. “Though, no point not taking them…”
Lingwei flatly: “Daoyou understands no spells, thus knows not how much paper this method consumes.”
Chen Tong: “What’s consuming what… you talk fancy.”
Yu Feichen glanced down. Though the two had language barriers, they climbed fast. Chen Tong, athlete-origin, had limbs far more coordinated than brain. Lingwei, appearing youthfully delicate and refined, was actually someone trained in cultivation and martial arts—moving even more easily than Chen Tong.
Uneventfully, they reached the main control room, resting at the rabbit hole entrance before pulling everyone up one by one as they arrived.
Yu Feichen first pulled up Anphiel, then Zheng Yuan.
But Zheng Yuan’s face was unusually pale. Her right hand gripped her chest school uniform tightly.
Yu Feichen: “What’s wrong?”
“I…” Zheng Yuan’s voice trembled: “Just now I got stuck somewhere. When I was pulled out, my badge was… damaged.”
“Did the loudspeaker announce your death?”
Zheng Yuan nodded with difficulty. By then Xue Xin had also arrived, embracing Zheng Yuan’s shoulder, comforting: “It’s fine—”
Before he finished, the air carried a monotone voice: “Beginning garbage disposal.”
Giant black iron machinery’s center spewed pure white high-temperature flames directed at Zheng Yuan, moving smoothly toward her like predetermined, inescapable judgment.
Its speed looked slow, but that was due to size. Actually faster than normal human running speed—nearly impossible to resist.
Even ever-calm, professional Zheng Yuan turned ghastly pale before this viciously revealed killing machine, trembling: “What is this?”
Anphiel briefly explained the waste recycling station’s mechanism.
Yu Feichen slightly furrowed his brow, thought a moment, then looked toward Chen Tong.
“This… I…” Chen Tong, meeting his gaze, confused, then suddenly realized.
“Girl, take my badge, you research the machine without worry,” he casually removed his own: “I run fast. I’ll keep it occupied.”
After Zheng Yuan hesitantly took the badge, the recycling station indeed shifted targets and chased Chen Tong. Chen Tong immediately took off, running marathons on the complex gear floor. He indeed maintained speed identical to the machine, keeping the recycling station at a fixed distance behind him, beginning to run circles.
—Truly lived up to his reputation as someone who ran so much he ended up at the dungeon entrance.