Chapter 2: The Appearance of a Gentleman, Section 9

Since arriving in this world, Black Hair had laughed so unrestrainedly for the first time. Amidst that increasingly frantic laughter, a familiar sensation began to arise within him, as if he had experienced it before.

For ordinary people, a mech might have countless uses, but for a thug like Black Hair, it would always signify only one thing… a weapon.

It was undeniable that in this new world dominated by magic-based civilization, mechanical mechs had lost their former glory. Just like the nameless mech assembled by Black Hair—though possessing formidable power—its appearance was tattered, as if it had just been picked from a trash pile. There wasn’t a trace of freshness about it. The sensor device on its head wasn’t even enclosed in a casing, exposed carelessly to the air, while the paint on its various components came in different colors, looking as garish as a clown’s outfit. It was extremely unappealing.

But none of this mattered. As the first weapon Black Hair assembled himself after arriving in this world, its significance far exceeded all its capabilities. Its depth of meaning was likely understood by no one other than Black Hair himself.

Or perhaps, it was a rebirth in hell.

“Little Devil.”
That was the name Black Hair gave to this mech.

Compared to the mental control of magic-based mechs, operating mechanical mechs was always tedious and complex—a fact that couldn’t be changed anywhere. “Little Devil” was no exception. Aside from two main control joysticks and four pedals, it had hundreds of functional buttons. As a result, Black Hair devoted all his remaining time to recovery training, unaware that over a month had already passed outside.

That day, after a day of adaptation training the previous night and making minor adjustments to the mech, he hadn’t even left the hangar of the disassembly factory when he heard faint noises coming from outside. At the same time, he saw the scavengers in the workshop stop what they were doing and rush toward the door in droves. Each of them wore a look of panic, which piqued his curiosity.

“What’s going on?” Black Hair quickly grabbed a scavenger rushing past him and asked urgently.

“It’s people from the Warrior Association! Mr. Black Hair, we need to go quickly! OldBuick is in trouble!” the scavenger replied in a hurry.

“The Warrior Association? What are they doing here?” Black Hair quickened his pace, matching the scavenger’s steps, and pressed further.

But this time he didn’t need to answer, because in the next moment, a dark figure shot in from outside the door, rushing toward him with a sharp whistling sound. Reaching out, using momentum, leveraging force, pressing down, then pulling back—everything happened in one smooth motion. The sudden attack posed no trouble at all to the black-haired man. With just a few simple, precise movements, he effortlessly caught the incoming shadow. It fell softly at his feet, gasping heavily but unable to say a word. It was none other than OldBuick. “Good!” With a sharp shout, three burly figures entered from outside the door. Bald heads, bronze-colored skin. Their strong muscles bulged, with veins visible on their surfaces like the roots of an old tree, glowing faintly under the workshop lights. These uninvited guests looked exactly like bodybuilders from Earth’s past. The only difference was their sharper eyes and an air of menace about them. “Whoa…” The figures around them moved, and the scavengers quickly formed a small circle around them. But for some reason, despite their numbers, none of the scavengers showed any sense of triumph; instead, they appeared panicked, with some even trembling. It wasn’t that they were weak. As scavengers who often walked on the edge of danger, they had seen too many deaths and separations to care much about their own lives. But facing these three burly men, they simply couldn’t muster any desire to resist. Because they recognized these men and their profession. “Impressive skills. Kid, you must be the oneBuick picked up from the desert. I heard you replaced George as the bodyguard here?” asked the tallest of the three loudly, his face filled with undisguised mockery, deliberately provoking those around him. The black-haired man frowned slightly but didn’t respond. Instead, he reached out to help OldBuick up and patted off the dust from him before looking up, his face still wearing that familiar gentle smile. “It’s me, sir. Nice to meet you. How may I help you?”

“What should I do? Ha, haha. What should I do… hahaha… It’s so funny. Look, this fool replaced George and still asks me what to do. Is there anything funnier than that?” As if hearing the best joke, the leader suddenly burst into laughter. Behind him, the other two men also twitched their lips, revealing their snow-white teeth. Their laughter was so arrogant that they paid no attention to the scavengers around them, as if they were air. Their attitude was utterly presumptuous.

“Black Hair, save me quickly. They say I killed George and demand a million Kari as compensation, or else they’ll kill me. Save me…” The arrogant laughter didn’t elicit any reaction from Black Hair, but it woke up OldBuick, who was collapsed on the ground like mud. Seeing Black Hair beside him, he saw a lifeline and rushed over, grabbing his clothes and crying out loudly.

“A million Kari? That’s enough money for all of us to live comfortably for more than half our lives. How could I possibly have that much money? Besides, George died in battle; I’m not responsible at all. Black Hair, you must save me.” OldBuick’s fat body trembled violently, like a pig about to be taken to the slaughterhouse, his face covered in tears, a pitiful sight that even moved the scavengers a bit.

Although OldBuick was known for his stinginess, he didn’t really cut corners on his subordinates. Thanks to him, the scavengers could survive. Seeing their boss in such a miserable state, it was false to say they weren’t heartbroken. But no one dared to speak up in front of those big men. After all, the Warrior Association was extremely powerful—a violent organization dominated by warriors. Its influence had penetrated every corner of human society. Whether it was exploration missions in alien systems or conflicts among humans, they were everywhere. Xieke Planet was no exception. Although Cukaire Town wasn’t a particularly important strategic location, its proximity to the “Lost Lands” had drawn the Warrior Association’s attention.

The arrogant-laughing leader was the head of the Warrior Association in Cukaire Town—a three-star mercenary who hadn’t yet officially become a warrior.

“Old bastard, you’re way too bold. You hire warriors from our association but don’t even provide insurance. Now that something’s gone wrong, you expect to shirk your responsibilities? I’m making this clear today—if you don’t give an explanation to our association, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” The leader stopped laughing and suddenly shouted loudly!