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Chapter 116. Time Paradox
From beneath the wooden table that reeked of stale beer, Oliver didn’t waste even a second thinking. The instant the temporal bullet tore through the empty air above his head, his left hand swung the Glitch Blade upward. The movement was rough, brutal, pure street instinct. SHRAAAK! The purple-black blade sliced through The Adjuster’s leather coat and pierced his right thigh. No blood sprayed out. Instead, streams of golden binary code spilled from the wound, making the assassin’s leg turn pixelated. “ARGH!” The Adjuster roared in distorted mechanical pain. He was shocked. Completely shocked. In a world governed by The Grand Equation, surprise attacks didn’t exist. Especially not from someone who should have died ten seconds ago. The Adjuster staggered backward. His left hand frantically reached into his coat pocket. His black-gloved fingers clenched around the silver pocket watch. His thumb slammed against the knob on top. CLICK. The wo
Chapter 115. The Overseer
At the peak of The Apex Tower, the giant clock hands hummed softly. No dust. No wind. Up here, everything was mathematics made flesh. The Overseer stood before the projection of The Grand Equation, a massive holographic globe made from trillions of gears of light. Its liquid-gold skin reflected the hologram’s blue glow. Its face, lacking eyes and a nose, tilted slightly as it detected a glitch. In the lowest sector, The Rust District, a single red dot blinked. Abnormal. Illogical. “Productivity in the Lower Sector has dropped by 0.012%,” murmured The Overseer, its voice smooth yet colder than liquid nitrogen. “Probability curves indicate a mass spike in endorphin and adrenaline levels. They are... gambling. They are hoping.” Behind The Overseer, the air rippled. A man in a pitch-black leather suit emerged from nothingness. His face was hidden behind a white porcelain mask marked with a cracked hourglass. In his hand, he spun a silver pocket watch whose hand
Chapter 114. The Underground Casino
The atmosphere inside the cramped workshop was as tense as an interrogation room. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at a loaf of wheat bread sitting on top of a wooden barrel. The bread was already a little stale, its edges slightly burnt, but the smell... that scent of yeast and grain was like a magnet pulling at their guts. In The Rust District, you worked twenty hours straight in front of boiling steam furnaces just to earn a ration tube of synthetic lubricant that tasted like used motor oil mixed with sewer water. Real bread was a myth. And now, this strange man in a tattered suit was offering it for free. The condition? Just guess a number. It was an insult to logic. A violation of cosmic law in Aethelgard. "Determinism Law, Article 04-A..." muttered the man with the single mechanical eye, his body trembling. Cold sweat trickled past the dirty camera lens embedded in his face. "There is no result without cause. No reward without labor. This... this is a trap." "
Chapter 113. The Rusted
The steam pipe tunnel was narrow, scorching hot, and smelled like a bus exhaust mixed with dried blood. Oliver crawled behind the filthy girl ahead of him. Every so often, bursts of hot steam hissed from leaking valves, scorching what remained of his already shredded white shirt. But he didn’t complain. After being chased by homicidal calculator robots up above, this suffocating tunnel felt like a five-star hotel. “Can you move a little faster, Variable X?” the girl whispered. Her voice was restrained, but the sharpness in her tone remained. She glanced back over her shoulder. Her left eye, replaced with a mechanical lens salvaged from an old camera, rotated to focus on Oliver’s face in the darkness. Whirrr... click. “I just fell out of the sky, got chased by scrap-can maniacs, and nearly got a hole drilled through my shoulder,” Oliver replied flatly. His right hand, glowing with golden light, flickered softly and provided a faint source of illumination in the dark
Chapter 112. Variable X
The four drill-tipped spears spun at insane speed, releasing a violent hum that made the air around them vibrate. They were only five centimeters away from Oliver’s chest, throat, spine, and kidney. An absolute attack. Mathematically, there was no opening to evade it. If this were chess, Oliver had already been checkmated three moves ago. “Muscle calculation...” Oliver whispered. His glowing golden eyes tracked the spinning drills as if time itself had slowed. “You’re reading my intentions from the tension in my muscle fibers, huh?” The Gear Knight in front of him gave no answer. Its drill continued forward, aiming straight for Oliver’s heart. But Oliver possessed one thing that didn’t rely on muscles. Something that obeyed neither physics nor the biomechanical laws of this mechanical world. He had Glitch. At the very last millisecond before the drill tore through his white shirt, Oliver didn’t jump. He didn’t duck. He didn’t block. He disappeared.
Chapter 111. Falling Into the Machine
The sky was a deep shade of purple, like a bruise on the skin of a god that had just gotten the hell beaten out of it. And from the center of that cosmic bruise, a black-and-gold portal exploded open. "FUUUUCK!" Oliver's scream overpowered the howl of the wind. He shot out of the portal like a cannonball, free-falling toward the ground hundreds of meters below. "Hey, Lady! Ever heard of using a parachute?!" Oliver shouted at the purple sky. The wind slammed against his face, making the black suit freshly rendered by Lady Luck's system whip violently around him. The land beneath him started coming into focus. But it wasn't soil. It wasn't asphalt. It wasn't ocean. It was a Machine. A colossal city made entirely of bronze gears, brass pipes, and towering steam spires. There were no roads, only conveyor rails and iron bridges connecting one gigantic gear to another. Everything rotated. Everything moved against everything else. But strangely... it all sound
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