novelnext Page 10
Page 10
“Very good.” Kane leaned forward slightly, his voice lower but crystal clear:
"I need to use your connections in the underworld to find me some things, maybe Originium artifacts, weapons and equipment... or other stuff on Colombia's list of prohibited items."
John's eyes widened. He had assumed Kane's needs would be more mundane—after all, he was still young and not a Syracusean.
"...If this were a border city, your request would be a piece of cake; but this is Trimont, the heart of Colombia, so it's very difficult."
"But it's not impossible?"
“The authorities are everywhere, and the warning lines have already been drawn. We… can only walk a tightrope every month, and our quota is limited.”
That settles it. Kane isn't trying to open a factory or arm a force; satisfying his personal hobbies is enough.
The conversation then became more amicable. John, the old-school mobster, expressed his sincere respect for Kane, his calm, powerful, and goal-oriented "benefactor and potential collaborator." He warmly invited Kane to visit Naples often and mentioned his daughter Maria—though still recovering in the hospital—who couldn't wait to thank her savior in person.
Kane readily agreed. For him, the Naples pizzeria was more than just a place to eat. It was a hub to the shadowy side of Tremont, a future trading node. How could he not come?
Chapter 27 Cellina Texas
“Mr. Kane, here’s what you requested.” John Polk placed an unassuming metal briefcase on the table with a cautious motion.
"This is a mixed source stone ore with acceptable purity, so please be careful."
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. After all, I don't want to become an infected person myself."
In the Naples shop, Kane received his first batch of "black goods" in the second-floor living room. The boxes contained nothing of alarming or contraband, just unrefined, mixed Originium slag. It might have come from an industrial waste dump, a clandestine workshop in the wilderness, or even the remnants of an explosion left by an unfortunate infected. Kane didn't care about its sordid origins. All he needed was the energy contained within the Originium itself.
In theory, his potential in Originium Arts is high enough to make even the Witch King of Letania take notice. The Witch King is a master of Originium, while Kane is someone who can see its true nature. Carrying this "energy battery" allows him to instantly cope with most unexpected situations. Previously, he could only "pry" tiny Originium circuit cores from various machines as a medium, and his energy reserves were woefully inadequate.
"Also, do you have any ideas about the firearms circulating in Syracuse?" Kane changed the subject, his gaze turning to the gloomy sky outside the window.
These days he's been cramming on information about Syracuse. The Sicilian lady's ability to remain so powerful isn't just due to her own skill and the fearsome "Mouth of the Giant Wolf" under her command, but also because she has Lateran backing her—she personally went to the Holy City and brought back "Gun and Order."
“I personally recommend that you go through Blacksteel International’s official channels, Mr. Kane,” John said sincerely, his brows slightly furrowed.
"Within Colombia, their goods are...cleaner and more legal." After all, the founder of Black Steel was himself a Sakota, and their foreign trade firearms are arguably the most verifiable.
"Black Steel International's review process for individual purchases of firearms is too strict. Even if I submit my application today, I'd be lucky if the goods arrive by this time next year."
To reiterate—in Colombia, you can only move freely if you possess either money or power, and Kane currently has neither. However, he is unwilling to abide by those troublesome rules, so the gangster method suits him better.
"By the way, is this girl also your daughter?" Kane's gaze suddenly fell on the figure standing quietly in the corner of the room.
She was a Lupo girl with deep blue hair. Her long hair cascaded down like a waterfall. She was slender, unlike Saria who exuded strength, but the calluses on her hands and knuckles from years of gripping hard objects were clearly visible. Beneath her signature "M"-shaped bangs were a pair of calm, amber eyes, which were now quietly watching Kane. There was no emotion in her gaze, like a frozen lake—she was either a master of emotional control, or… her soul was currently utterly empty. Wearing the slightly oversized uniform of the Naples shop, she could easily be mistaken for John's youngest daughter.
“Uh…” John sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"Hidden from you... there's probably no point. Yes, she is the one I mentioned before... the last of the Texas family bloodline, Cherlinina Texas."
“The Texas family is finished. She has been granted permission to live, but her wealth and status… are gone. I am merely… giving her a place to stay temporarily.” He emphasized “temporarily.”
Kane naturally recognized the girl, Luper; she was the most familiar stranger in Kane's "memory".
It's just a little small now.
"So she's minding the pizzeria now?" Kane's gaze swept over the living room he had visited once before; it had previously been a shared space.
The second-floor living room was indeed originally intended for John and his children to rest when they were tired from work. Now it was allocated to Cellinina as her residence. Most noble ladies would find it unbearable to be reduced from a luxurious mansion to its current state; but Cellinina would not. Perhaps this was the life she wanted, or even the ending she chose herself.
“Not only that…this kid also delivers takeout.” John’s voice carried a hint of complexity.
Using a Texas to deliver food would be considered a sign of poor taste in the underworld.
""
It seems she really likes this life, because Kane knows that Cherlina Texas's future belongs to a logistics company.
“Alright, this is your family matter, and I overstepped my bounds. John, I'll need your help in the future.” Kane picked up the heavy Originium box and left.
The silence on the second floor was broken only when Kane pushed open the door and stepped into the rain, and the sound of rain outside regained dominance.
"Is he...trustworthy?" Cellina's voice rang out, calm but clearly expressing concern for John.
The Texas family was indeed destroyed at this point, but the subsequent distribution of the spoils was not satisfactory—Mrs. Sicily gathered multiple families to cleanse Texas, and the families that contributed were entitled to a share of Texas's inheritance.
The bad news is that Cellina eventually "had a change of heart" and sacrificed her own family for the greater good. She personally killed Texas's disobedient father, an act that exempted her from punishment—therefore, according to the laws of Syracuse, she remains the sole surviving direct heir of the Texas family. This means that as long as she lives and her status is not stripped, the vast family wealth nominally still belongs to "Texas," only now it is managed by the Grey Hall until she chooses to rebuild the family.
This result was enough to make many covetous people smash their glasses, and some reckless individuals might do foolish things, such as sending someone to assassinate Cellina.
She was weary of the bloody infighting within her family, weary of the deeply ingrained rules of Syracuse. She did not want her presence to drag the Polk family, who had taken her in, into an abyss.
Kane learned of her identity and her existence today, and that is a potential problem.
“The best way to keep someone from revealing a secret is to prevent them from ever speaking—that’s what we always do; but Cellina, you’ve said you’re no longer a Syracuse, so… there’s no need to follow the old rules anymore. Besides, she’s my benefactor—Maria, my daughter, whom you met once when you were children. Kane saved her, and without his help, I can’t imagine what I would be like now.”
Having said all he could, John said no more. His heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs as he called to his sons to relight the fire in the oven, hoping the lively atmosphere of the Naples restaurant would dispel the gloom upstairs.
Cellina Texas stood alone by the second-floor window. Outside, the rainy season in Tremont seemed endless, the cold rain relentlessly pounding against the glass. Her face remained expressionless, her amber eyes reflecting the gray sky, hollow as if her soul had long since departed. She had tried to sever all ties with Syracuse through the destruction of her family, exiling herself to ordinariness, only to discover with despair that the shadow called "Texas," like a leech, had never truly left.
The sound of the cold rain was just like the ceaseless, nauseating undercurrents of Syracuse.
“This rain is…so annoying,” she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the sound of the rain, carrying a deep-seated weariness and disgust.
Chapter 28 Holiday Plans
“Mr. Kane, your package.” Cellina Erling (Part 8) Texas’s voice was flat and calm. She opened the trunk of the land vehicle, revealing a rather sturdy and large box.
"Cellina? You were the one escorting her the whole time this time too?"
“Mr. Polk needs to be in charge at the store, and everyone else has their own responsibilities.” Texas responded briefly, her amber eyes scanning the surroundings to make sure it was safe.
“Only I can get away.” This “escort” job was certainly more than just delivering pizzas. The weight and nature of the items inside the box meant it couldn’t pass through any regular security checkpoints. John Polk had no choice but to entrust this former gangster to personally drive the land vehicle for point-to-point “black cargo” transportation.
"Did you get your driver's license?" Kane asked casually, bending down to pick up the box. As the box was taken out of the trunk, Kane realized it was quite heavy.
"I just passed the test a week ago." Texas cooperated by lifting up the other end of the other hand, her movements coordinated and smooth.
“Driving skills… are part of the family’s basic training.” Her tone was emotionless, as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.
Since establishing this clandestine supply chain six months ago, Kane's needs have become increasingly stable, with Originium slag consistently being the largest component. In addition, through connections with the Polk family, he acquired two firearms: one a silenced pistol emphasizing concealment, and the other a sleek, powerful model—reportedly a variant of the early Iberian Inquisitor's design. Finding such an antique in Syracuse's flea market was a pleasant surprise.
With the increasing sensitivity and volume of goods, public transportation has long been ruled out. Door-to-door delivery has become the only option. This "part-time job" is usually done by Texas on her pizza delivery route, which only requires a heavy motorcycle. But today, for the first time, she used a land vehicle.
“Give me a hand, this is a bit heavy,” Kane gestured. The two of them worked together to carry the heavy box into the house. This was the first time Cellina Texas had stepped into Kane’s private space.
She had no intention of spying, but the Texas family's rigorous training had ingrained environmental assessment into her instincts. Her gaze swept over the space like a precision scanner: the space was almost rigidly clean, all items were neatly arranged, the traces of life were highly uniform, and there was a lack of any superfluous decorations that could express individuality. It was clear that the owner valued efficiency and privacy.
She lives alone, is highly self-disciplined, and extremely vigilant. The judgment was made in an instant. She immediately averted her gaze, suppressing her instincts.
“Delivery confirmed.” Texas took a step back and stood back in the shadows by the door, her posture like a sentry who had completed a mission.
"Farewell."
“Be careful on the road.” Kane nodded, watching her turn away. The engine of the land vehicle roared low over the overcast streets, gradually disappearing into the distance. The heavy doors closed, shutting out the noise from the outside world. Kane's gaze returned to the heavy box; a new “research” was about to begin.
Half a year has passed like sand slipping through his fingers. Since the conflict on that rainy night at the Naples store, Kane's life has returned to a highly structured routine: the classroom, the training ground, and his "laboratory" at home. A precise, clockwork-like routine between these three points.
His academic performance was impeccable. Professor Benitez of Originium Applied Science and Professor White of High Energy Physics both favored this meticulous and well-grounded student. This was not due to his deliberate scheming—Saria's academic rigor and Christensen's brilliant ideas were like two stars, and Kane, who could consistently produce equally high-quality thinking and closely follow in their footsteps, could not be ignored.
The professor's favor brought a valuable byproduct—invitations to numerous cutting-edge academic conferences and technology launches. These events, which gathered advanced information and industry trends, provided Kane with an unparalleled "information gap" on another front.
He skillfully channeled these advantages into the turbulent waters of the Colombian financial market, particularly into the vast and dynamic field of Originium application technology. The initial account of 50,000 gold vouchers snowballed several times over within six months. Ironically, this wealth, which would be considered enormous by most, barely supported Kane's rather "luxurious" needs.
What he was after was the very pinnacle of the pyramids on this land.
Initially, Kane only intended to purify some Originium into high-purity form for strategic reserves and as a medium for spellcasting. However, the near-absolute control that Level 1 Originium access granted over Originium far exceeded expectations. In the Originium industry, different purities of Originium correspond to vastly different high-end applications, and the higher the purity, the more dangerous the purification process and the exponentially higher the cost.
"Pure Originium"—its purity requirement is an astonishing 99% or higher. It is the fuel for advanced mobile city core reactors, the energy core of top-tier staves, the cornerstone of strategic weapon systems, and even the key element of ancient Originium Arts rituals... Its value is truly the jewel in Terra Industries' crown.
This level of purification is the domain of giant conglomerates that control vast industrial chains and cutting-edge protective facilities. The enormous profits of the Originium trade are largely built upon this insurmountable technological barrier.
Kane... he could do it all at his own lab bench in his study.
Industrial refining requires layers of protection to prevent disasters caused by Originium running out of control under extreme conditions. But for Kane, the process is like performing a precise "programming". He only needs to inject specific instructions into the Originium slag, and the impurities inside will be precisely "annihilated" as if by the Originium itself. There is no blinding light, no terrifying heat, and no destructive explosion - only the impurities are completely decomposed and dissipated at the microscopic level.
The only bottleneck is the poor quality of the raw materials. The quality of Originium ore available on the black market varies greatly, sometimes good and sometimes bad. After purification using the "programmed annihilation" method, the purest Originium crystals obtained can only produce a mere one crystal per month according to Columbia standard units, an efficiency that is frustratingly low.
Today, he withdrew a month's worth of funds in one go because time was of the essence. The first academic year was almost halfway over, and the long holiday was just around the corner. Kane decided to use this window of opportunity to make a real gamble.
The civil war in Kazdel, a catastrophe that has swept across the Sarkaz homeland, has lasted for nearly eight years. Because of the appalling conditions in Kazdel, no war correspondents have long since stopped reporting on it, but Kane has a feeling that this is the final chapter.
He was not without options. To continue to lie low in the shadow of Colombia, accumulating power with the help of this vast country until he had the leverage to engage in equal dialogue with Rhode Island… This was a safe but long path.
But that would be too inefficient! More importantly, there are variables—by that time, Rhodes Island's "Doctor," one of his creators, had probably lost most of his memories, so who could guarantee that he would still remember the details of Project Ama?
And now, that "evil spirit of Babel" must still remember that Kane could probably answer his questions if he asked them.
On the back of every Columbia banknote is a proverb: 50% return is worth any risk, 100% return is worth trampling on all laws.
For Kane Mordred, perfecting his flaws—this "profit"—was worth risking everything he had to find a glimmer of hope amidst the bloodshed of Kazdel.
His vacation plans were already finalized: to delve into Kazdel and find an opportunity to confront the infamous "evil spirit of Babel."
Chapter 29 Heading into the Wilderness
"Okay, we have verified your identity and welcome you to the team—but please note that to ensure your safety during the journey, we have established the following regulations."
The Black Steel International security personnel meticulously repeated the lengthy instructions to Kane. Kane nodded expressionlessly in confirmation, successfully obtaining the qualification to travel with the Colombian transport convoy.
He found himself at the bustling docks of Trimont. Land vehicles laden with cargo, roaring construction machinery, and a constant flow of people—Terra, ravaged by natural disasters, was shattered, and severe transportation disruptions had hampered commerce, but had also increased the value of rare goods capable of traversing vast distances. Colombian precision instruments, Sargon's glittering gold, Victorian exquisite handicrafts… On this land torn apart by natural disasters, the merchant guild's giant ships, like tenacious veins, struggled yet persistently connected the fragments of civilization, pursuing alluring profits.
After successfully passing his final exams, Kane naturally began implementing his holiday plans—his two required courses and Human Biology unsurprisingly received excellent grades. As for the film appreciation and production course assignments, they were due at the start of the next semester, since making a film would take up a lot of time and couldn't be done during exam week. But as a holiday activity, it seemed perfectly appropriate.
Seria reminded Kane not to slack off in training during the holidays, as she would be competing in her professional field during the holidays and would naturally not have the opportunity to coach Kane; Kristen tried to invite Kane to her home, but Kane declined; Muirsey made plans to film a personal movie with Kane, but Kane could only postpone it until half a month before the start of the semester.
His reason was that he wanted to return to Syracuse to find his family. After spending the semester together, his three classmates knew about Kane's family situation and they all understood—although among the four of them, only Saria still had family, her family relationships weren't very harmonious. Perhaps because none of them possessed this precious warmth, they yearned for it even more, so they all supported Kane's attempt.
I'm so sorry I lied to you. If I return safely, I will definitely apologize. Kane thought to himself.
Kane, carrying his personal equipment and pushing a wasteland off-road motorcycle, boarded a professional transport landship.
This is a common way of traveling in Colombia—following transport ships operated by the Colombian government or large corporations. Among many international travel options, this is a fairly safe one.
After all, there are very few ways to hijack a land-based warship. One is to force it to stop using a high-speed military vessel; the other is to have a professional special operations team work together to subdue all the personnel on board.
Kane chose the "Thor Industries" transport fleet. In addition to Thor Industries personnel, the landship also carried guests and Blacksteel International employees responsible for security.
With a final roar as the engine finished its tuning and refueling, the gates of Tremont Harbor slowly opened. The steel behemoth growled and plunged into the boundless wilderness. Kane's first truly long journey had begun.
A week passed.
A week passed in the ceaseless roar of the landship. The steel behemoth traveled eastward, efficiently traversing the complex border region between the four nations of Kazimir, Victoria, Ursus, and Letania. After crossing the Letania border—theoretically not far from Syracuse, which it claimed as its "homeland"—the transport ship turned south, its target being Rembiton's ore.
Kane has reached his destination. Further east lies Kazdel—the closest point to his "destination" that this route can reach.
"Hey kid, are you really going to get off here?" At the stern, an elderly Felin repairman frowned, his rough fingers stroking the railing.
"Are you kidding me?"
"The target is Syracuse, which is the closest, isn't it?" Kane replied calmly, his fingers stroking the cold handlebars of the motorcycle.
"Hmph! Be more careful next time, and read the flight path map carefully!" The old mechanic snorted, but his tone carried the advice of someone who had been through it all.
"There's no intention to stop in Syracuse this time!" He said no more and forcefully flipped a switch.
Om-!
A small landing board slowly descended from the lower side of the ship, crashing heavily onto the flattened wasteland, raising a cloud of yellow dust that blotted out the sky.
"Go for it, kid! When I was young, I wouldn't have let go of the gas pedal!"
“You’re just as healthy as ever!” Kane’s voice rose a few decibels for the first time, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but turn up—a lively smile that rarely appeared on his usually overly calm face.
He nimbly straddled the motorcycle, turned the key, gripped the clutch, shifted into gear, and twisted the throttle! The engine instantly roared like a beast, and the motorcycle shot off like an arrow, plunging down the sloping landing board and crashing headfirst into the churning dust.
“Wo——!”
As he burst through the dust, Kane couldn't help but let out a short shout. A powerful gust of wind rushed towards him, nearly tearing his ears apart, and his tail was whipped straight by the gale. Like a meteor breaking free of gravity, he flung the massive landship into a blurry black dot on the horizon.
The old repairman squinted, watching the small figure rapidly disappear into the smoke and dust, then shook his head, a complex and nostalgic smile appearing on his face. His son was a bright student who loved to immerse himself in his studies, but deep down he always felt that young people should have this one moment of unbridled passion, charging headlong into the unknown.
Once he was sure the landship had completely disappeared from sight, Kane suddenly twisted the handlebars, and the motorcycle drew a sharp arc, speeding eastward toward Kazdel.
The throttle was pressed deeper and deeper, the engine's roar echoing across the boundless wilderness. Kane's body rose and fell with the bumpy road, an unprecedented exhilaration spreading from his fingers gripping the handlebars throughout his body. He finally understood the heroic spirit of those Kazimierz knights charging with their camels—this was the freedom of breaking free from all constraints! The wind whistled in his ears, leaving the world's clamor far behind; the vast horizon stretched and conquered beneath the wheels; in the boundless天地 (heaven and earth), it seemed as if only he and the roar of the engine remained.
Kane was incredibly glad he made that decision to seek out Cherlinina to learn motorcycle riding skills not long ago. This capable delivery girl had received training in this area before – after all, the agility of motorcyclists in street fights was undeniable.
The road ahead is unknown. Kazdel, a world diametrically opposed to the prosperity and sophistication of Colombia. There, the oppression of foreign powers and endless civil war have drained the material foundation, and the scars of the city accumulate with each destruction and reconstruction. The law of survival is perhaps that children have already grasped the cold touch of weapons long before they learn to use utensils.
Kane, all alone, sped towards that weathered land. Yet, what occupied his heart at this moment was not loneliness or a desire to retreat. Cold rationality was replaced by a burning impulse; blood surged through his veins like Originium fuel being injected into an engine. It was an almost instinctive, soaring fighting spirit, burning silently in the howling wind.
Chapter 30 Rookie Mercenary: Cain
A Sarkaz figure, carrying a heavy, dark red cloth bag, stepped into the outer ring of Kazdel, the infamous "Scar Marketplace," a jungle made of twisted steel and Originium crystal clusters.
Twisted metal supports, like the skeleton of a colossal beast, pierced the gloomy sky, the air thick with the acrid smells of rust, Originium dust, and cheap fuel. Scarred Marketplace was an extension of Kazdel's chaotic heart, a lawless land: weapons, scarce goods, all sorts of slaves, even lives with clearly marked prices—nothing was off-limits to those who could afford it. And the common "currency" was often a blood-stained identification tag.