Half an hour later. Sewer Zone C, Abandoned Pump House.

  "Gently! Gently! This is the liquid Mithril conduit you wanted; if you break it, selling you won't be enough to compensate!"

  Val Goldtooth panted, dragging a heavy lead box in; those expensive crocodile leather shoes were now covered with sewer sludge.

  "Shut up, put it down, and roll to the door to keep watch."

  Carlisle didn't look back. He was squatting in front of a dismantled industrial water pump; dazzling blue light reflected on his goggles.

  He held a high-energy etching pen modified from a discarded staff crystal; the pen tip was spitting extremely unstable arcane electric arcs. To prevent mana backflow from burning his brain, he bit a piece of grayish anti-magic ore dead tight in his mouth; teeth bit deep marks on the ore surface.

  In front of him was that freak device pieced together from sewer broadcast loudspeakers, mining oscillators, and a pile of messy coils.

  "Hold it." Carlisle said indistinctly.

  Savage didn't talk nonsense. He pressed that huge bass resonance chamber with his only remaining left hand; although the severed right arm was still bandaged, he still used the stump to press against the base of the device dead tight to fix it.

  Even disabled, he was still the best assistant.

  Carlisle carefully dripped those expensive liquid Mithril on the rough copper coils.

  Sizzle—Hiss—

  The etching pen slid across the Mithril surface. That wasn't simple welding, but forced fusion. High temperature vaporized part of the Mithril instantly; a metallic smell sweet enough to make one dizzy permeated the air.

  Under the traction of the electric arc, silvery-white liquid Mithril seeped into the rusty coils like alive, building precise mana circuits emitting glimmer.

  "Kid, are you sure this thing works?"

  The dwarf looked at this freak constantly emitting sparks, shell already burned red, cold sweat seeping from his forehead: "The magic pressure on this is too high; I feel it will explode anytime."

  "Ptooey."

  Carlisle spat out that anti-magic ore already hot and discolored, picked up a bottle of low-quality coolant stolen from Val's shop, and poured it directly on those red-hot coils.

  Boom—

  A burst of hot white fog rose. Coolant evaporated the moment it touched metal, but those coils miraculously stabilized; a strange blue crystal shell condensed on the surface, emitting a low-frequency hum like a beating heart.

  Zzzzt—Hummmm.

  That freak device vibrated, emitting a low hum acting directly on the diaphragm.

  "In principle, it is indeed an unstable bomb. But this is exactly what we want."

  Carlisle wiped the fluorescent dust off his hands, pointing at that still slightly vibrating device, eyes fanatical:

  "Chaos Kin, those shadows, their essence is a kind of 'Unstable Ether Wave.' They have no fixed physical form, so physical attacks are ineffective. To hit them, we have to forcibly 'Collapse' them into entities."

  "Speak human language." Savage rolled his eyes.

  "Meaning, this machine can emit a specific frequency of 'Mandate Oscillation.'" Carlisle patted that huge horn mouth. "This noise will forcibly synchronize the vibration frequency of their bodies, forcing them to obey physical laws."

  He picked up a piece of glass casually, throwing it on the vibrating machine shell.

  Snap.

  The glass piece didn't shatter into chunks but disintegrated instantly into uniform white powder, as if crushed into sand by invisible hands.

  "See?" Carlisle sneered. "We are going to vibrate those arrogant shadows into stones."

  Lyria stood aside, looking at that device full of violent aesthetics, frowning slightly. She could feel the originally calm elements in the air being roughly torn and stirred by this machine.

  "This is unnatural." The elf commented. "This is... rape of sound."

  "This is war, miss."

  Carlisle stood up, carrying that extremely heavy device on his back—he used a few leather belts to make a simple carrying system, looking like an ascetic monk carrying a huge coffin.

  "Let's go. The show is about to begin."

  ...

  The Forked Tower.

  This was the old industrial area at the edge of Blacktooth City, and also the end of the entire city's sewage system.

  Two huge, twisted chimneys pierced the sky like snake's tongues, spewing colorful toxic exhaust gas. The ground was covered with a thick layer of black oil sludge, the result of industrial waste precipitation for hundreds of years.

  There were no guards here. Because no one wanted to come here to seek death—except those mutated creatures feeding on radiation and filth.

  But today, it was unusually quiet here. Even mutated rats were gone; only the dead wind sound passed through those rusty holes, emitting whimpering moans.

  "They are up there."

  Lyria pointed to a damaged platform at the top of the tower. In the gray toxic fog, several black silhouettes could be faintly seen busy.

  "That box is there too." Carlisle's left eye flashed with glimmer; tracking signals on the retina jumped madly. "Signal source is strong; that 'Pale Walker' is trying to open it."

  "How do we do it?" Savage tightened the iron pipe in his hand (his hand cannon was scrapped; now this was a big hammer). "Rush up directly?"

  "No. We go through the front door, knock to enter."

  Carlisle pointed to that rusty iron door at the bottom of the tower, a hideous smile curling on the corner of his mouth.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The three stopped in a patch of knee-deep black oil sludge. Before them, "Serpent's Tongue Tower" pierced the low lead-gray cumulonimbus clouds.

  That was not a traditional mage tower, but a deformed relic belonging to the heavy industry era of the Second Epoch—two huge exhaust chimneys with diameters exceeding thirty meters twisted at an altitude of one hundred meters, entangled dead tight like two copulating iron snakes, finally forking at the top, pointing to the sky.

  No magic glory here, only industrial hideousness.

  Looking up along those maintenance ladders full of oil stains, locking onto the high-altitude working platform at the fork of those two chimneys.

  That was full two hundred meters from the ground; gale roared.

  Zoom in. That snatched metal suitcase was now placed at the edge of the platform, half suspended in the air.

  "Pale Walker" stood in front of that metal suitcase. His hand covered with black patterns turned into countless tiny probes like liquid smoke at this moment, seeping into the rune lock hole on the box surface bit by bit.

  "...Almost... open..."

  That voice carried a tremble of about to touch taboo: "...First layer physical lock melted... Analyzing Primordial Sequence..."

  Pale Walker's voice was hoarse and excited. He could feel that majestic power in the box; that was the "Source Quality" that could evolve the entire Shadow Demon race.

  "They are picking the lock."

  At the bottom of the tower, Carlisle withdrew his gaze, smashing that heavy "Sonic Coffin" behind him heavily on the ground full of oil sludge.

  "The structure here is more perfect than I imagined."

  He reached out to pat a thick main load-bearing column beside him leading directly to the top of the tower. Although rusty, the metal column still emitted a slight hum due to internal high-pressure stress.

  "This is a natural conduction medium. As long as we knock at the bottom, a magnitude ten earthquake will happen above."

  Carlisle turned to look at the two companions beside him, took out two pairs of heavy industrial soundproof earmuffs from his pocket, and threw them over:

  "Put them on. Unless you want brain fluid flowing out of your nostrils."

  Just then.

  Hummmm——————

  An extremely low but ubiquitous hum suddenly came from the metal floor underfoot.

  At first very light, as if a huge heart beat at the bottom of the tower. But only a second later, this sound enhanced exponentially.

  The entire Serpent's Tongue Tower began to vibrate.

  That vibration wasn't shaking, but a high-frequency, fine tremble. Dust in the air stood still instantly, then danced madly.

  "What... thing?"

  At the top of the tower, a black-clothed Shadow Demon responsible for vigilance was about to speak, but his voice changed tone.

  He discovered in horror that his hand—that hand originally composed of black fog and capable of changing shape at will—was hardening and becoming brittle rapidly; rough textures like rock emerged on the surface.

  "Enemy attack!"

  Pale Walker stood up abruptly. But his movements were no longer smooth, like a machine rusted for hundreds of years; every joint emitted jerky friction sounds.

  "There!" He looked at the bottom of the tower.

  There, a visible transparent ripple was spreading upward along the tower body. Wherever it passed, rusty metal emitted sharp whistling; glass windows along the way exploded into powder instantly.

  [Initiate Mandate: Enforce Physics]

  [Frequency: 4000Hz - 20000Hz Sweep]

  [Power: Maximum]

  At the bottom of the tower, Carlisle carried that madly roaring machine, like a necromancer DJing in hell.

  His left hand pressed on the control panel of the machine, right hand covering his ear dead tight (even wearing earmuffs, that vibration still made his heart beat wildly, vision blurred).

  "Show me... Shape!!"

  With Carlisle's roar, he pushed the power lever up fiercely.

  BOOM!!!

  Not auditory sound, but a substantial air hammer.

  Several men in black at the top of the tower were hit by sonic waves instantly. Didn't fly away. Instead, they were like bugs sealed in amber, stiffened on the spot instantly.

  The originally ethereal "Shadow Form" immune to physical attacks was forcibly destroyed in stability under this high-frequency oscillation.

  Zzzzt—

  Cracks began to appear on their body surfaces; black fog was forcibly compressed and condensed, finally turning into a brittle substance similar to obsidian.

  "Ahhh——!!"

  Pale Walker let out a painful howl, but that sound sounded like stones rubbing. He tried to turn into black smoke to escape, but the surrounding air seemed to become solid, locking him dead tight.

  "Showtime!"

  Carlisle turned off the machine, collapsing against the column weakly, nosebleed flowing long. "Savage! Lyria! Up! While they are 'Solid'!"

  "Roar!!"

  Savage, who had held back a belly of fire, rushed out first.

  Although only one hand, although legs inconvenient, this didn't prevent him from crashing open the gate like a cannonball.

  He rushed up the stairs, sweeping the iron pipe fully at the first black-clothed guard stiffened on the spot.

  Crash!

  No blood, no dodge. That once arrogant Shadow Demon immune to physical attacks was now like a low-quality plaster statue, smashed directly into powder by Savage's stick!

  Black fragments splashed in all directions, falling to the ground making crisp sounds.

  "Awesome!! So f*cking crisp!"

  Savage laughed wildly, waving the iron pipe rushing toward the next target. He was no longer a helpless veteran facing ghosts, but a violent foreman demolishing. He wanted to return the pain of the broken arm ten times to these ghost things.

  Lyria followed closely.

  She had no bow, but she had that dagger painted with holy water bought from the black market in her hand.

  Her movements were light and deadly, like a gray lightning shuttling between those slow-moving "Stone Men." Every time she struck, the dagger could precisely pierce into the opponent's hardened joint gap, then pry hard.

  Crack.

  A black-clothed man's head was pried off by her forcibly, rolling on the ground, breaking into two halves.

  "This is your 'Eternity'?"

  Lyria looked coldly at the fragments on the ground, not a trace of pity in her eyes: "Just a pile of fragile stones."

  The battle was a completely one-sided massacre. Shadow Demons losing "Intangibility" ability were ridiculously fragile in front of physical attacks.

  Soon, only the last person remained.

  That man considered to be "Pale Walker."

  He leaned against the railing at the top of the tower; half of his body had completely petrified. That face covered with black patterns cracked countless gaps in the oscillation, but he didn't scream, nor fear.

  On the contrary, he was laughing.

  That was an extremely weird mocking smile with corners of the mouth split to ears.

  Carlisle panted heavily, walking up to the top of the tower step by step, drawing the dagger.

  "Remember this feeling?" Carlisle patted that hard face with the back of the knife. "This is called 'Natural Law.'"

  "Law..."

  That man turned stiff eyeballs with difficulty; voice no longer hoarse, but became hollow and overlapping, as if countless people were speaking at the same time:

  "Interesting... physical oscillation... indeed can shatter 'Container.'"

  What flowed in his eyes was not fear of death, but a lofty banter, just like a human lifting a needle looking at an ant:

  "But do you think... shattering the shadow's projection can kill darkness itself?"

  Carlisle's pupils constricted sharply. Wrong. This "Waveform" was wrong.

  [Warning: Target Ether Reading Abnormal]

  [Determination: Entity Mass Zeroed]

  [Conclusion: THIS IS JUST A... PUPPET]

  "It's fake! Don't touch him!" Carlisle roared.

  But too late.

  "As a gift for the first meeting... this 'Toy' is given to you."

  The smile on that man's face collapsed instantly. He didn't wait for Carlisle to push him but leaned back himself.

  "See you in... the Abyss."

  With this whisper, his body fell out of the railing.

  No whistling sound of free fall.

  In mid-air, that petrified shell suddenly self-detonated.

  Bang!

  No flesh and blood, no bones. That body exploded into thousands of black crows composed of smoke.

  "Caw—! Caw—!!"

  Sky-filling black crows circled and screamed in the air; they didn't attack the three but crashed toward that toxic oil sludge on the ground like a black rain, then melted in the shadow.

  The originally terrifying "Pale Walker" was just a clone fabricated with shadows by the real mastermind from beginning to end.

  "Damn..."

  Savage rushed to the railing, watching the dissipating black crows, face ashen: "A fake? We spent so much effort just to kill a substitute?"

  "No."

  Carlisle bent down to pick up the metal suitcase on the ground. His hand was trembling slightly, not because of force, but because of lingering fear. If they met the real body just now, with their current equipment, they might not survive even a second.

  [Analysis: Primordial Fragment (Encapsulated State)]

  [Integrity: 100%]

  "The box is real. That's enough."

  Carlisle wiped the cold sweat on his forehead, looking at the layers of dark clouds in the distance. He could feel that in some dark corner at the end of the line of sight, a pair of true eyes full of malice were watching here.

  "We just snatched a piece of meat from a lion's mouth." Carlisle's voice was low, full of crisis. "And, the lion has woken up."

  Lyria looked at those dissipating black crows; the dagger in hand gripped tighter: "We are in big trouble."

  "Go!"

  Carlisle lifted the box, no longer having any joy of victory, only urgency:

  "Leave here immediately. Before his real body arrives, we must vanish!"