Yet now, someone dared to disrupt the security and impartiality of this black market! This was tantamount to destroying the market's entire livelihood, and as the adage goes, cutting off a man's source of wealth is akin to murdering his parents! Thus, swiftly, over a dozen hulking brutes swarmed out from the surroundings, brandishing all manner of weapons, and without so much as a greeting, they unleashed a furious barrage upon the monster!

The sheer destructive power of the weapons held by these men wasn't overwhelming; the single-soldier combat armor on the cubical monster seemed to absorb most of the bullets' force. Only one electromagnetic oscillation round struck its chest, causing it to stagger back two or three steps, but it only left behind a scorched mark and a wound the size of a bowl.

But by now, the monster had reeled in the iron chain, issuing a hysterical roar from the depths of its throat, and then swung the chain in a wide arc, whistling through the air laced with blood and shattered bone!

It sent several of the gunmen, who had positioned themselves bravely at the forefront, flying backward. The unfortunate soul leading the charge was torn violently in half at the waist, dripping gore, while the others were flung away like bowling balls, hitting the walls with sickening thwacks before slowly sliding down to leave streaks of vivid crimson.

After the chain, crackling with electrical energy, had slain a full five men, its momentum was still unbroken. With a loud clang, it lashed out at a nearby pillar, wrapping around it several times with a metallic clatter. As dust and brick chips flew, the muscles on the cubical monster’s arms swelled, and with a mighty tug, every light fixture on the adjacent wall began to jingle in protest, causing the entire building to tremble with a resonant shudder!

The monster used this leverage to spring forward in a flash of light and lightning, rolling upon landing. It charged into the midst of the thugs, its two impossibly long giant arms whipping up and down, seizing anyone or anything it could reach and violently flinging them away! Some were even hurled clean out of the windows, falling with agonizing screams.

In a blink, the thugs lay sprawled on the ground, moaning in unison, looking as if they had drawn their last breaths.

At this moment, an old man seated in an electric wheelchair rapidly approached from a nearby passage. Though his eyebrows were entirely white, they were interwoven with a savagely cross-hatched pattern, giving observers an immediate, false impression: that his crippled legs were not a burden at all, but rather a powerful asset worthy of display!

Of course, what commanded even greater attention was the presence of a full eight android servants flanking him. These eight weren't the clumsy, menial types like the original Old Charlie.

Their status was that of Alliance soldiers captured from the front lines by the Empire, subjected to the deepest levels of personality erasure, yet retaining all their lethal combat skills.

These beings were kept in a state of perpetual high arousal through massive doses of stimulants, requiring no sleep, with a lifespan capped at ten years. The muscles in their faces were twisted and distorted, their eyes vacant and hollow, entirely glazed over, making them appear utterly senile. Yet, these eight android servants were the most terrifying assassins, madmen. At their master’s slightest command, they would obey without hesitation, even if it meant ripping off their own arms to consume.

It was evident that the puppet master behind the black market had realized the situation had spiraled beyond his control, forcing him to rush out. The old man glared at Grang in a private booth and said, deliberately and calmly, word by word:

“Grang. You’ve done well.”

Hearing the old man’s tone, which seemed devoid of any earthly heat, Grang inexplicably shivered. Only now did he recall some of the legends surrounding this old man known as "Lame Wolf." Even the cubical monster roared in frustrated immobility, for one of the android servants had lifted a gourd-shaped firearm and taken aim directly at it.

This single gun held more terror for the creature than ten others!

Because this was a liquid nitrogen dispersal gun, a weapon typically reserved for boarding enemy starships. Under normal circumstances during a boarding action, the objective is to seize the hull intact, so using a flamethrower causes too much collateral damage; igniting anything flammable could lead to an explosion.

Therefore, to ensure structural integrity, the preferred weapons for boarding are sonic disruptors, which cause minimal physical damage. However, because sonic weapons are easily countered with specialized defenses, weapons like the liquid nitrogen dispersal gun—capable of instantly dropping the ambient temperature to several hundred degrees below zero—become the weapon of choice.

No matter how powerful the transformed monster was, it could not withstand temperatures hundreds of degrees below freezing, and since the gun was an area-of-effect weapon, evading it would be extremely difficult given its bulk.

But just as Lame Wolf seemed to have subdued the entire scene, seeing the tide had turned, Grang displayed no sign of panic. Instead, he sneered:

“Lame Wolf, do you take me for an idiot?”

Lame Wolf replied coldly:

“You used to be sharp, but today you look particularly foolish.”

Grang sighed, looking towards the cubical monster:

“You claim to be well-traveled and experienced, yet you can’t even recognize the model designation of this bio-weapon?”

Lame Wolf had rushed over in haste; frankly, ninety percent of his focus was not on the corpses of his subordinates—he could conjure more of these dogs anytime he scattered a bone—but on the five particles of Xu Element, totaling eighteen point nine grams!

Hearing Grang’s words, Lame Wolf immediately frowned, and then his face drastically changed, laced with hesitant panic:

“That modulation style… it looks like the work from the Andromeda Sector? A modified warrior? Could it be….”

“You actually know your stuff.” Grang chuckled maniacally. “So, who is the one who looks particularly foolish today??”

Lame Wolf’s expression was ashen, his facial muscles twitching uncontrollably. Grang continued his prodding:

“You always boasted that you knew everything happening in the Northern Sector, down to a simple yawn. What? Is your intelligence network failing today? Why was your auction held prematurely?”

A young man standing near Lame Wolf couldn't help but shout angrily:

“That’s because a very important person arrived from above, and Mongo ordered the area cleared! Isn’t that the truth?”

Grang forced a sickly smile:

“The person currently wasting Mongo’s time is merely the Master’s deputy. This foolish man thinks he has hitched onto a different line, wavering in his loyalties, and is utterly unqualified to speak directly with the Master! The Master was bored and heard about a fun little spot nearby, so he came to relax. Unexpectedly, he found something truly appealing… Lame Wolf, the Master finds your offering worthy; that is an honor! Why haven't you sent the item over to the Master yet?”

Lame Wolf’s face was now rigid, looking as if covered by a mask. After a moment of stunned silence, he suddenly pointed toward the young man beside him:

“Go deliver the goods.”

The crowd immediately erupted in an uproar, but then a very faint sound came from behind Grang, as if someone had whispered a few words. Grang’s eyes narrowed immediately:

“Lame Wolf, the Master explicitly commanded you to deliver the item! Not someone else!”

Lame Wolf was still seated in his wheelchair; how could he deliver it? But he clearly didn't care about his dignity. With a numb expression, he struggled out of the chair and began crawling on the ground, dragging himself forward, writhing and twisting his body like a pathetic, deformed worm. All pretense of authority or killer aura had been tossed out to the furthest reaches of the galaxy.

Just then, the cubical monster suddenly erupted once more, launching itself forward in a violent forward roll!

Its movement, despite its bulk, suggested overwhelming momentum, akin to a steamroller crushing everything in its path. It seized the android who had been aiming the freezing gun, slammed its head into it, delivered a knee strike, and then, in a show of brazen spectacle, lifted the android high into the air, spun it several times, and slammed it down heavily onto the nearby steps! The sound of the spine snapping was sickeningly clear, followed by several savage stomps that ended its life right there.

Lame Wolf showed no reaction, nor did he dare to.

Grang sneered:

“No one who points a weapon at Test Subject One ever lives to tell the tale.”

As he spoke, the androids near Lame Wolf were being systematically slaughtered by the rampaging monster! The androids would not attack without Lame Wolf's direct orders, and death was arguably a release for them. Many watched Lame Wolf’s face on the ground, but he remained masked, his thoughts utterly inscrutable... He simply gripped the handle of the new mecha crate and then casually reached for the cloth bag made from that foul-smelling sock.

But at that precise moment, Old Charlie, who had been standing quietly nearby, suddenly moved. He brought his foot down hard onto Lame Wolf’s fingers. With the strength he possessed now, the sound of shattering bone was immediately distinct, eliciting a shrill scream of agony from Lame Wolf!

The stooped Old Charlie coughed lightly twice, but then ground his foot down with increased pressure twice more. Lame Wolf’s screams intensified, and only then did Old Charlie slowly say:

“The transaction hasn't been completed. How dare you touch my Master’s property?”

Old Charlie’s action was so abrupt that many people couldn't process it immediately! Their minds seemed to glitch, freezing for a moment before snapping back to reality.

“He… how dare he attack?”

“Is he tired of living?”

Old Charlie completely ignored the periphery chatter and slowly bent down, picking up the bag. Grang, however, chuckled maliciously:

“Charlie, do you still think you’re some kind of Marquis? Is that bag something you’re allowed to touch?”

Old Charlie looked at Grang with his dim, aged eyes and said slowly:

“This bag contains the funds my Master intended to use to bid on the mecha. I don’t care if you dogs fight amongst yourselves; the mecha sale wasn't concluded, so we are reclaiming the funds we brought for the auction. Is there a problem with that? Is it a mistake? Which article of the constitution, enacted by the great Emperor of the Empire, has this violated?”

Old Charlie’s words effectively choked off Grang’s retort, but a thin, reedy voice, lacking substantial power, drifted out from the private booth nonchalantly:

“What damn constitution? My word is the constitution! Daring to waste my time with nonsense is a serious offense! Kill them!”

This was immediately followed by a solemn reinforcement from a much older voice:

“Do not use energy weapons. The Xu Element is highly unstable under extreme heat.”

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