Chapter 109: West Hall Master, Wrench

A sharp smell of motor oil permeated the underground air of the Deep Harbor Seafood Market.
Several modified construction vehicles were scattered around the corners, their bodies painted with blood-red flames and hammer emblems.

In a room at the very deepest part, an interrogation was underway.

“You’re saying that cop took all of you down, and even Old Wu folded there too?”

A dull voice came from beneath a thick dust-proof mask.

“I—I don’t know, Boss Wrench!”

The leading thug stammered incoherently,

“Master Wu, he suddenly went crazy afterward! He killed Brother Wang first, and then started fighting that cop…
The scene was so damn terrifying—like two monsters tearing down a building!
How the hell were we supposed to stay there?!”

“Trash.”

Before he could finish, a slap struck his face hard, sending the rest of his words—and two teeth—flying.

The one who struck him was a lean, sharp-looking old craftsman. He turned respectfully toward the figure sitting up high:

“Hall Master, it seems nothing useful can be pried out of these mutts’ mouths.”

“Forget it.”

The elevated figure slowly moved.

A bear-like body rose from the shadows, casting a mountain-like sense of oppression.
His thick mechanical prosthetic limbs stepped onto the metal floor with a creaking sound.

He was the West Hall Master of the Red City Gang, the legendary mad craftsman—“Wrench.”

He once had a real name, but now, everyone in the gang remembered him only by his codename.

He wasn’t called “Wrench” just because he handled all equipment modifications for the gang—
but because, on his modification table, humans and machines were no different.

“Just forget it…?”
The sharp-looking old craftsman asked reluctantly.

Wrench didn’t answer. He only slowly turned his head.
Under the half-face respirator, two terrifying red lights suddenly flared to life.

“The modification room is still short on a few materials… Send them over.”

“Yes!”

A hint of cruel delight flashed through the old craftsman’s eyes.

“No—no—Boss! Boss please! I—”

The wailing and begging were soon replaced by several dull thuds, eventually vanishing behind the slowly closing iron door leading deeper into the workshop.

The room returned to deathly silence.

Wrench sat back down, lifted his head, and sighed lightly:

“Old Wu… Old Wu…”

“You were my proudest creation. How could you just… fall like that?”

He couldn’t make sense of it.

The mechanical body Wu Jianguo carried was Wrench’s painstaking masterpiece.
A defense strong enough to withstand a direct armored-vehicle collision—
Strength that could crush reinforced concrete with ease—
How could it possibly lose to an ordinary cop?

Unless…

That cop also possessed Immortal Dust?

The thought surfaced—then he immediately dismissed it.

No.

Those trash said clearly that the cop showed no signs of modification whatsoever.
A pure human body—how could it unleash that kind of power?

Unless…

A ridiculous term floated into his mind.

“Blessed by an Immortal?”

Heh. Impossible.

He shook his head, mocking himself, discarding the absurd idea.

Just then, his trusted lieutenant returned, face grave.

“Hall Master, bad news.
The mess Brother Long stirred up is worse than we thought.
The police this time are acting like they’re on steroids—
broad daylight, sweeping operations everywhere.
We’ve already had several Immortal Dust storage warehouses taken out!

“And along with that, more than a dozen brothers in charge of distribution were arrested.
Even that leader who always tipped us off has been detained…

Looks like Xinhai City is going all-out this time!”

“Hmph. That idiot Long Aotian.”

Wrench snorted coldly, full of contempt.

“I told him long ago—stop being so high-profile. It would blow up sooner or later.
Now look—he dragged the whole gang into the mud.”

“Complaints are everywhere inside the gang,”
the lieutenant continued reporting.
“The East Hall Master and South Hall Master—several elder craftsmen have grouped up and plan to pressure Iron Elder to cut down Brother Long’s authority and territory.”

Hearing this, the two burning red lights in Wrench’s mask flickered slightly.

He fell silent.

Of course he knew—this was an opportunity.
A chance to seize Long’s richest territory—one he had long coveted.

But he also knew—the gang’s supreme leader, Iron Elder, valued only one thing:

results.

To legitimately replace Brother Long, he needed to produce a “military achievement” massive enough to reverse the gang’s declining momentum.

But that… was easier said than done.

As he pondered, a perimeter security craftsman rushed in, looking confused.

“Hall Master,” he reported,
“A few surveillance cameras in Cold Storage No. 3, zones A and B, suddenly went dark.
I’ve already sent brothers with tools to check—must be old wiring—”

“Old wiring?”
Wrench repeated, the red glow beneath his mask flickering again.

He didn’t give an order immediately. Instead, he silently walked to the massive wall of monitors.

Most feeds were stable, except several on the top-left corner—pitch-black, showing lost signal.

“A-zone, B-zone…”

Wrench’s mechanical fingers tapped rapidly on the console, pulling up the underground layout of the market.

Zone A—temporary cold storage for seafood.
Zone B—one of the main cargo routes to the surface.

And the disabled cameras?
They just so happened to cover the shortest path from Zone A to his core workshop.

“Don’t bother.”

Wrench’s voice suddenly turned icy.

“Ah?”
The craftsman blinked.
“Hall Master, you mean…?”

Wrench slowly turned.

The burning red light locked onto his trusted lieutenant as he spoke, each word deliberate:

“Remember three years ago—how the old cripple from the East Hall died?”

The lieutenant’s face instantly drained of color.

Of course he remembered.

That old hall master who ran the entire E-zone smuggling network—
was assassinated in his own headquarters by a phantom-like “female demon.”

He didn’t even have time to pull the alarm before a terrifying energy blast reduced him—
and his million-yuan antique desk—into fragments.

And that operation had begun…
with several “malfunctioning” surveillance cameras due to “old wiring.”

“The female demon is here.”

Wrench’s low voice made everyone in the room suck in a cold breath!

“W-what?!”

The craftsman reporting the issue instantly turned pale.
His body tensed, the hand holding the walkie-talkie trembling uncontrollably.

The words “female demon” were the ultimate nightmare for everyone in the Red City Gang.

They were an opponent that couldn’t be understood.
Silent assassinations. Explosions out of nowhere.
Girls in ridiculous skirts—who could tear steel apart like paper…

“H-Hall Master…”
The lieutenant’s voice cracked under fear.
“Should—should we sound the highest alert immediately?! Call every brother?!”

Yet despite the panic, Wrench was unusually calm.

He made a quiet gesture.

The burning red lights stared fixedly at the pitch-black screens.
Heavy breathing echoed inside the respirator.

A mad idea sprouted in his mind.

If…

If I can capture a female demon alive…

If I can fuse her body with my mechanical engineering…

What kind of perfect masterpiece could I create?

Then—

“Pass my order!”

He spoke in a feverish, unquestionable tone:

“Shut down all external alarms!
Seal every exit!
Call in my elite modification squad!”

“—Tonight, I’m going to personally capture a female demon—”

BANG—!!!!

A gunshot.

Wrench’s massive head—covered by the industrial respirator—snapped backward violently.

In the center of the mask…
A single charred bullet hole appeared.