Clockwork Bride

Page 177

In this kind of situation, a mercenary's physical strength is actually quite useless. First, this isn't a combat mission, and second, fighting against the gods is simply madness. Only mercenary fanatics who dream of instant fame and fortune would attempt such a thing. Even against non-combat-oriented gods, it would take at least four or five top-tier mercenaries to gang up on them for a chance of victory.

There are a few other people in their team, and some have been assigned to keep watch in the shops and houses on the street. If they had prepared an ambush beforehand, they might have been able to try and take on a Protoss... but who would do something so risky?

[This is a gunman. Something's up.]

Their teammates' voices came through the communicator's earpiece.

[I saw three...no, four people, they must be the target. A red-haired woman, an old man with a white beard, both looking like mortals. A male mage in a gray robe, judging by the energy aura, he's a god. And a fully cybernetically enhanced body...could that be a Valkyrie?]

Valkyries? War Gods?

This was no joke. The warriors were immediately taken aback upon hearing the word. Although they hadn't intended to fight, a single Valkyrie could turn them all into mincemeat. Mortals without heavy weapons like cannons couldn't fight against the War Gods; they couldn't even break through their defenses.

However, his teammates hadn't finished speaking yet.

I heard them talking as they walked. It sounded like they were looking for…salt.

salt

The moment that word rang out on the communication channel, the mercenary squad was immediately taken aback.

[...Are they here to find salt?]

The gang is going to be on edge now.

salt

This word has such a special meaning in the slums of the Fallen City.

I'll dive into the astral plane and check their network signal.

The shaman finally tensed up and hurriedly said something. Then she closed her eyes and collapsed onto the warrior's shoulder like a doll with its strings cut.

When her spirit left her body and entered the Astral Network, the warriors were responsible for protecting her physical form. This was only natural, but their decisive and unwavering actions demonstrated the mutual trust among this small mercenary group. They were by no means a rabble.

The tech shaman's astral form swooped down from the building's rooftop. Advertisements, spam, and pop-ups flew past her. Millions of files and messages flashed by, disappearing along the star network's main road. Even the network conditions in this slum were terrible. The tech shaman spent a moment filtering the noise, sorting through the data chaos, checking the target group, locating them in the network—only to be surprised to find that there were only three of them. The red-haired woman led the way, while the other two looked around blankly.

For some reason, that Valkyrie wasn't connected to the internet at all. She was completely isolated from wireless networks; she was disconnected. Therefore, the tech shaman couldn't see her on the StarNet.

[This is the Shaman. I don't think that Valkyrie is really Valkyrie. She has absolutely no connection to the StarNet wireless.]

They didn't reveal each other's names, instead using simple code names. Urban mercenaries cannot and should not use their real names while on duty, even if they know each other well and are communicating over encrypted channels. Only true madmen and legends use their real names when working as mercenaries.

[This is the gunman. Shaman, can you find out more about their side? Since they say they're here for salt, the gang will definitely want us to gather more information about this god race. Besides, if things go wrong with the salt, it won't benefit us either.]

In the realm of information warfare, this is the only area where mortals might have a chance to gain an advantage over the Protoss. Unless the opponent is a Protoss expert in information technology or a true corporate god, a top-tier mortal hacker can potentially steal Protoss data from the StarNet. This is why many mortal hacker terrorist organizations are still quite successful in modern society. Hacking is generally less expensive than developing physical technologies.

[That depends on the abilities of that Protoss player. However, none of these people seem to be particularly skilled hackers.]

The tech shaman answered, while cautiously glancing at the Protoss grey-robed wizard's icon on the StarNet.

I'll go and add a bugging marker to his icon first.

She waved her hand, sending the tentacles of information leaping out of the shadows to entwine around the gray-robed wizard's ankles.

For these mercenaries, this was probably a reasonable approach. Since this matter involved "salt," they had no choice but to abandon their work.

Unfortunately, reasonable methods are not necessarily correct.

Just as the information tentacles of the tech shaman were about to touch the grey-robed wizard, a hand reached out from the side and gently pressed down on her shadow, as if glued to an insect.

He was an elderly man dressed in a reddish-brown velvet suit, with long, snow-white hair and beard. He calmly extended a hand from the StarNet, gently suppressing all the information manipulations of the Tech Shaman. His aged face was serene, yet his hand radiated an unbreakable power.

In that instant, the technical shaman sensed it. This fear was like leaning back too far in a chair, about to tip over. It was like suddenly feeling the hot water turn icy cold while showering. Or the feeling of a car wheel slipping on ice. Fear gripped you tightly, and you knew there was no escape.

The same thing isn't just happening on StarNet.

At the same time, the warrior's superhuman modified eyes widened in disbelief. Behind him, on the rooftop of a thirty-story building, a dark figure had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The figure surged forth from the void like the night sky, coalescing into a human form. It appeared to be a ninja—with black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a tight-fitting black bodysuit, a gauntlet on its left hand, a katana in its right, and a white fox mask on its face!

Why are there ninjas?!

"Nice to meet you. I am the White Fox Ninja."

The ninja extended his hand in a salute to the mercenary.

"Please don't worry. In order to communicate properly with your employers, I will not take your lives."

The warrior didn't hesitate for a moment. Before the ninja could even finish her greeting, his modified left hand had already extended from the muzzle of his gun, and his nerves were directly connected to pull the trigger. The Cold Iron Demon-Slaying Bullet exploded with a deafening roar, sending sparks and smoke flying towards the female ninja's feet—at this distance, a gun was far faster than a sword. But the price of indiscriminately killing a god was too high; the mercenary wouldn't do such a thing lightly…

...In reality, he couldn't do it either.

A fraction of a second after she finished bowing, the female ninja's right hand traced a path with astonishing ninja speed. With a casual flick of her katana, she deflected the demon-piercing bullet.

"Ever since my master entered the lower levels, you have all been secretly spying on him. Unfortunately, we have known this all along."

The ninja said seriously and calmly,

"Please surrender. Your actions were blocked from the very beginning."

--------------------------

As Hongye said, the current situation is largely a result of Hayden's deliberate actions.

Their primary objective was to excavate the sedimentary salts from the Dead Sea floor, with a secondary objective being to see if there were any ruins of Sodom dating back 5300 years—frankly, the latter was something neither Hayden nor Professor Albion had much hope for; it was merely wishful thinking.

So, what's the fastest way to mine seabed sediment? Should we use a submarine or a diving spell to swim down?

Of course not!

Neo-Babylon, the Fallen City, is a semi-abandoned cylindrical space station that fell from the sky, embedded in the middle of the Dead Sea, its bottom deeply embedded in the seabed. Therefore, digging directly outwards from the bottom of the city is undoubtedly the most efficient approach.

However, at the bottom of Fallen City lies a chaotic slum. A haphazardly constructed shantytown, it sprawls out without order, expanded and altered by unauthorized inhabitants. The residents are different yesterday than today, and the streetscape constantly changes.

In such a place, there are no useful "maps," and even Abigail can't lead the way. She usually comes to New Babylon to do business, but she goes to the middle and upper levels of the black market, mostly dealing with devils, and has no chance to come to the lowest level.

Therefore, the only way to find someone to guide them here was to ask a local resident. This was even more true if they wanted to find someone in charge. However, when Hayden and his group walked onto the street, although people occasionally cast glances their way, no one showed any interest in approaching them for a conversation.

"In that case, let's just wait for others to come to us."

What a heroic act of Hayden, using himself as bait! After all, he grew up in the lower city and had spent almost ten years mingling on the streets. So he knew very well that if conspicuous guys like them lingered in the slums for less than half an hour, someone in charge would definitely come and contact them.

Even Hayden hadn't expected that the other side would actually send a few mercenaries first. Although they didn't dare to use force, they actually dared to come over and eavesdrop.

Unfortunately, these mercenaries weren't completely stupid. Once they realized something was wrong, everyone who could run immediately turned and fled for their lives. Not a single mercenary was willing to stay and fight Hayden and his men to a standstill.

That's really reasonable, but also really a pity. As the ancients said, "Wealth and honor not returned to one's hometown are like wearing brocade at night." Hayden used to be a city mercenary, and now he's a former city mercenary who's become an immortal, yet he's never had the chance to personally bully his former colleagues. Ever since Angela arrived, whenever there's a conflict with mercenaries, Angela basically just slaps them all down with a few blows.

This time, not only did Hayden not need to lift a finger, but even Angela didn't need to. Looking up at the gray, steel dome above, Hayden felt a profound sense of loneliness and melancholy at the feeling of being invincible.

"You must be thinking something very rude."

Abigail didn't do anything either, since she usually didn't like casting spells herself. However, seeing Hayden's feigned sorrow, she immediately made a sarcastic remark.

At the same time, Hongye had already grabbed one mercenary in her left hand and dragged the other in her right, bringing them down from the rooftop.

Hayden didn't want to waste anyone's time any longer. He patted the cyborg warrior's steel arm and asked directly, "I'm not here to cause trouble, nor do I intend to do anything to you. I used to be a mercenary myself, and I know how tough it is for you to make a living—I just want to know who your employer is, and why you're making such a fuss."

Even if they weren't stupid enough to fight the gods, trying to eavesdrop on their communications is hardly a normal thing to do. Did these people somehow step on some strange landmine?

Upon hearing this question, the cyborg warrior looked back at him with a strange expression: "Aren't you someone hired by the Sophia Order to steal the salt here?"

……What?

Salt?

Sofia Order?

197: Adabit Workers' Union

Salt?

It wouldn't be a big deal if this got out. Hayden and his team came here to extract sediment salt from the seabed anyway, so there was no way they would hide it.

However, Hayden has absolutely no connection with that Sofia Order.

To conclude that Hayden was connected to them simply because he glanced at them on the road would be an outrageously unjust accusation.

"That's right, I came here to find salt."

So Hayden raised his eyebrows.

"But, what nonsense! How can you accuse me of being associated with that strange, anti-modern technological new religion? If they worshipped me as their savior, perhaps I could consider it!"

After hearing Hayden's words, Angela nodded thoughtfully.

Hayden might have gotten a little carried away lately, but his words were still quite effective at convincing others that he had nothing to do with strange religions. The young shaman and the cyborg warrior exchanged bewildered glances, both clearly hesitant: if this god was truly invited by the Sophia Cult, surely they wouldn't speak in such a tone?

“Sir, if these two are not going to tell the truth, then I will ask them for their advice.”

A ninja wearing a white fox mask made a very "friendly" suggestion.

Using violence to extract information is a common tactic of ninjas. They're professionals in this area! Namo San, if you won't comply, then start by asking your limbs!

Of course, for Kureha, consulting (or interrogating) others wouldn't make her particularly happy or excited. She didn't have that kind of morbid hobby. It was just one of the ways Kureha obtained information while working. After all, this girl was very serious about her work.

However, the two mercenaries couldn't help but shudder upon hearing this. They were, after all, just mercenaries hired for money. Now in enemy hands, they had no intention of remaining loyal to their employer to the point of dying rather than submitting, or enduring torture.

Hayden certainly didn't want to torture them. If Momiji didn't have that fetish, then Hayden wouldn't even consider that option. However, using Momiji to scare people was quite convenient. So Hayden pointed to the ninja wearing the white fox mask and frowned at the two mercenaries: "You two won't give me the answer, and you don't want to be asked questions, so am I in a difficult position?"

The two mercenaries exchanged a glance.

“Our employer is the Adabit Workers’ Union.”

Then the cyborg warrior spoke first.

"They are also the people in charge of this area at the bottom of Fallen City, the organization that truly holds power. If you want to do anything here, whether it's opening a factory or digging, you'll have to deal with them."

...Workers' Union?

This word really surprised Hayden: "A guild can still exist in a place like New Babylon?!"

However, as soon as he finished speaking, Abigail and Professor Albion both shook their heads. Then the professor said, "You're overcomplicating things. Hayden, it's precisely because this place fell from the sky in the last century that it's possible for a union to remain here."

Workers' unions, also known as trade unions, are generally organizations formed by workers to improve their wages, employment conditions, and working environment. Sadly, these seemingly admirable organizations are often illegal in practice.

About two hundred years ago, the explosive growth of arcane industrial society drew an increasing number of people into factories. Many laborers spontaneously formed advocacy groups, collectively negotiating with the new capitalist gods. Factory and mine workers began to unite, supporting and protecting each other. The weak fought the strong, the poor fought the rich, ordinary people fought the gods who exploited them—and then they were brutally suppressed. The punishments were cruel, even including executions.

Can ordinary laborers unite to fight against the gods of capital?

The disparity in power was too great, making this idea too far removed from reality. Therefore, it didn't even gain widespread support from the poor and was naturally suppressed by the new gods. Guilds, even if they might still exist in name only, have practically long since vanished.

“That’s right,” the cyborg warrior admitted. “The guilds that remain in the lower districts of Neo-Babylon are actually just mutual aid societies formed by the poor and destitute. But even so, they are still the undisputed leaders in the lower districts.”

In slums where there is no government power and no public oversight at the grassroots level, self-governing mutual aid organizations naturally emerge. These organizations actually bring many benefits to the slums at the bottom of society, as they allow them to maintain basic order amidst desolation. Moreover, those without money or power are more likely to pool their thoughts and resources to achieve mutual assistance.

The only problem is that, in the definition of companies or governments, such organizations are generally called "gangs," "clubs," or "criminals."

However, Hayden never seemed to care about such things.

"So what does this remaining workers' gang have to do with salt? Are they here mining salt from the Dead Sea?"

So he continued to press for answers.

However, this time, the one answering Hayden's question was no longer a cyborg warrior.

"That was just our own little neighborhood mutual aid program."

A strong, powerful male voice answered Hayden's question from afar. Hayden and the others looked up and saw a man with several companions walking towards them along the slum street.

He appeared to be a man in his late thirties. He wore a military green overcoat, and his face, framed by round glasses, was rather gentle. However, his towering height of nearly two meters was quite imposing even among humans.

Moreover, Hayden and Hongye, observing the man's every move, discovered that he was actually a martial artist, and his skill level seemed quite high.

“I am Luz, the president of the Adabit Workers' Union.”

As the man spoke, he slowly walked towards Hayden, seemingly unconcerned about the extent of Hayden's strength.

"Instead of letting the prisoners explain reluctantly, why don't you come and see for yourself?"

Those flawless footwork clearly belonged to a skilled veteran. Although Hayden didn't practice martial arts, he could borrow extremely profound divine-level martial arts from Karen at any time. In addition, he was an eccentric person whose knowledge was second only to the old professor, so he was able to sense the opponent's strength.

Where is Hongye? She is the only proper martial artist among Hayden's companions here. Upon seeing Guild Master Lutz, she immediately stood between the two, remaining vigilant to prevent Hayden, a non-melee wizard, from being ambushed—for a skilled martial artist, it is quite normal to pounce and kill an enemy from within tens of meters.

But how could a guild leader in Fallen City, especially one from the slums, be so powerful? That's quite unusual.

Hayden glanced a few more times at his companions standing beside the union leader. They were much weaker than Lutz, but they also looked to be skilled in martial arts. This was quite interesting.

"Sorry, I've never heard of any of your names."

So he shook his head.

"But anyway, you're the one in charge here? Then I do want to ask you about the Dead Sea salt."

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Although labor unions have always been illegal, back when Neo-Babylon was still in outer space and Astaroth was still the god of capital, the company established the Adabit Workers' Club to appease the workers on the colonies. Those bars and meeting places were the meager rewards the bosses gave them after emptying their pockets to prevent unrest.