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墨書 Inktalez
The departure of the people from Skeleton Rose felt like the curtain falling on a performance.
They swaggered out of the branch office, dragging Zheng Xuan along, shouting and laughing as if they had just completed a street art project. Maria led the way, an assault rifle slung over her shoulder and a cigarette dangling from her mouth, her laughter loud and jarring, echoing through the silence that enveloped the air.
“Have fun, little experimenters,” she called back, “maybe next time you can be our fuel?”
She laughed heartily, kicking over a sign that lay crumpled by the door. The metal letters spelling "Foot Odor Energy" smashed into the mud with a thud, twisted and deformed, like an ideal trampled underfoot.
Lin Tianyou remained hidden under the table, his teeth clenched tightly.
The laughter faded into the distance, footsteps becoming indistinct, but the roar in his heart never ceased. It was not a roar of fear but one of humiliation and powerlessness, building up bit by bit until it felt like a volcano ready to erupt.
He trembled as he tried to rise, his legs betraying him and giving way beneath him. He knelt down, his face contorted with shame, fingers gripping the table leg until his knuckles turned white. After a few seconds, he let out a low growl and pushed himself up with great effort, swaying slightly before finally standing tall.
Before him lay the shattered wall, collapsed display stands, shards of glass and blood scattered everywhere. A few employees crouched against the wall with their heads in their hands; some had glass cuts on their foreheads while others silently convulsed with injuries to their legs.
This place had once been their sanctuary for dreams; now it resembled a graveyard trampled into ruins.
He walked to the door and looked down at the metal sign lying in the mud. He bent down to pick up the piece that had been kicked away—the character for "foot." The sharp edge sliced into his finger, but he felt nothing as he stared at it motionless.
A fire—a real fire—began to burn in his chest.
He couldn't understand why it had come to this. They hadn't done anything wrong. They simply wanted to use Foot Odor Energy to make the world better, even if that dream sounded absurd. They were just trying to rebuild a dead city; they were just trying hard.
But why—
Why had they been trampled like this?
Lin Tianyou gripped the deformed metal sign tightly, blood dripping from his palm into the mud below. He murmured softly, his voice hoarse yet crazily resolute:
"You... will regret this."
When the phone screen lit up, Lin Tianyou froze for a moment.
The name "Huang Haoran" flickered at his fingertips, as if it bore the weight of a thousand burdens pressing down on his chest. His throat tightened, and it felt as though a rope was constricting his heart. His finger hovered over the answer button, pausing for several seconds.
He was afraid.
Not because of Maria, nor because of the Skeleton Rose, but because—he didn't know how to explain this disaster to Huang Haoran. The entire branch office had been smashed to pieces, Zheng Xuan had been kidnapped, employees were severely injured, and the technical equipment was destroyed; he could barely stand himself.
If Huang Haoran saw all of this—would he be disappointed? Would he blame him? Would he completely lose faith in the engineer he had nurtured?
His finger trembled slightly before finally sliding down.
"Hello..." he answered in a low voice, his tone so weak it was almost like dust in the wind.
On the other end of the line came a hearty laugh, warm and direct, just like the man he remembered—always arrogant and always at the top.
"What's wrong? Did you want to cry as soon as you heard my voice?"
Lin Tianyou was taken aback, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, but he couldn't find the words.
"I know you're feeling really down right now, right? Even without you saying anything, I can tell you're cursing yourself for being incompetent and messing things up—am I right?"
Lin Tianyou's throat tightened again, and he could only manage a faint whimper: "I... Haoran... we... here..."
Before he could organize his thoughts, Huang Haoran laughed again. This time his tone was lighter but still carried that familiar air of arrogance mixed with kindness.
"I already knew," he said without a hint of surprise. "Zheng Xuan sent me a message and left a note saying something like—'This is the last chance to save C City.'"
Lin Tianyou opened his mouth, stunned in place.
"You think you've messed up, but I see clearly that this is not the end; it's just the beginning," Huang Haoran said with a firm tone, infused with a near-manic confidence. "Isn't it said that crises are opportunities?"
"They slapped us today, so we'll slap them back tenfold. Don't worry, I, Huang Haoran, won't let anyone tarnish our reputation, nor will I allow anyone to lay a finger on my friends."
Lin Tianyou felt his eyes welling up as he tightly gripped his phone, as if that statement—"I, Huang Haoran, won't let anyone touch you"—was a shield, the only fortress he could rely on amidst the wreckage.
At the end of the call, Huang Haoran added in a suddenly somber tone laced with menace:
"Stay steady; my plane will arrive in C City tonight."
"I'll fight this battle myself."
Lin Tianyou clutched his phone tightly; Huang Haoran's voice had faded away, leaving only the buzzing silence and the distant remnants still smoking. He stood among shattered glass and collapsed metal frames, tightly closing his eyes as a tear nearly escaped.
He suddenly raised his hand and fiercely wiped at the corner of his eye—no, this was not the time to cry.
Huang Haoran was coming.
That man who never bowed his head in the face of absurdity or difficulty was coming to this battlefield himself. If he remained crouched on the ground in sorrow, despair, and hesitation, what kind of deputy would he be? What kind of technical director?
He took a deep breath, feeling the nearly extinguished fire in his chest reignite, flames surging within him.
**I cannot fall. I cannot panic. I cannot let him see that this place is a wasteland.**
"Everyone, gather up!" Lin Tianyou shouted, his voice slicing through the oppressive air like the first thunder in a sudden storm.
The employees, technicians, and surviving guards turned to look at him. Those who had been crouching slowly stood up; some still bore injuries, but hope and order began to flicker back in their eyes.
"Injured people, gather in Experimental Zone B; our supplies haven't been affected yet. Let those who can walk help with bandaging!"
"The rest of you—whether from the technical department or cleaning crew—if you can still move, come with me—we need to clean this place up! President Huang is coming tonight; I won't allow him to see even a hint of disarray!"
His voice was somewhat hoarse, but every word struck deep into the hearts of those who heard him.
He picked up a fallen iron rod and personally began to clear the walkway, removing the shattered glass from the windows, piece by piece. Rolling up his sleeves, he helped carry the toppled equipment and gathered the scattered folders, blueprints, and remaining gas samples, shouting loudly as he worked:
"Don't be afraid! We are the Foot Odor Energy Company! We are the ones who create a new era from the foulest smells of feet. If we aren't afraid of that, why fear a little gang?"
"We have overcome doubts, public opinion, and PR hell. Are we just going to lie down after being hit once? That's laughable!"
The employees who had once screamed in terror were now moving again. Some picked up brooms, others worked together to lift fallen equipment, and some assisted the injured to safety. Amidst the chaos, a new order was being rebuilt—not through commands, but through belief.
Lin Tianyou ran through the shattered factory, sweat, dust, and blood staining his clothes, but his gaze grew ever more resolute. This was no longer just a laboratory or a factory—
This was their stronghold.
Huang Haoran was coming.
He would turn this place into the true starting point of their counterattack.
And he, Lin Tianyou, would be the spark that ignited this rebellion.
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