Oh, Damn

Ducking behind a wall and stepping back out, he had slipped completely out of everyone's perception.

The conceptual definition bestowed by the Divine Authority removed him from attention rather than line of sight.

I am right here, but you ignore me.

Thus, while monsters swarmed all around to besiege the female officer, Lynch strode along openly and boldly. The tide of monsters brushed past him, some even bumping into him, yet none ever realized someone was there, pushing past him to rush toward the female officer instead.

Seeing fewer and fewer monsters around, with the sound of slicing blades and monster roars echoing behind him, Lynch picked up his pace without looking back, transitioning from a fast walk into an all-out sprint.

That woman seemed to suffer immense pain every time she slashed someone; this had to be ended quickly.

Gritting his teeth, Lynch quickened his stride and rushed toward the boiler room following the smell of smoke. The moment he charged through the door, he immediately backed out.

The heat was overwhelming.

The boiler was far larger than he had imagined—a massive metal chamber seven to eight meters tall, with dozens of thick, long metal pipes protruding from its walls and plunging into the walls and floor.

On its front was a square furnace door half the height of a person. Inside, the light was blinding, and raging flames danced endlessly. Before he could even get close, an unbearable wave of heat blasted against him, scorching Lynch so fiercely he could barely breathe. There wasn't even any sweat—the moment perspiration seeped out, it was instantly baked dry by the extreme heat.

The entire furnace was forged from cast iron, even sturdier than the factory building itself. Never mind holding just a revolver; even if he had brought an RPG, he might not be able to destroy such a solid boiler.

Damn it, how am I supposed to destroy this? Only now did Lynch realize the biggest problem.

Kill these slaves?

Lynch had already drawn his gun, but his hand still trembled slightly.

These were humanoid beings, and most likely normal people originally. As a transmigrator, overcoming that psychological barrier was truly not easy.

Besides, he also realized that stopping them from adding fuel was useless. There was plenty of fuel left in the boiler to burn for hours, and he couldn't let the female officer hold out outside for hours on end.

Blowing up the boiler directly would be much more thorough.

In theory, boilers should have weak points.

Lynch remembered watching a few obscure movies in the past that featured scenes of steam locomotives exploding, but he had only watched them for entertainment back then, and couldn't recall the specifics off the top of his head.

“Roar!”

A spine-chilling roar suddenly came from behind. Lynch's scalp tingled, and he instinctively rolled to the side. Immediately after, a monster overseer flew past and slammed heavily into the spot where he had just been standing, shaking the sturdy factory wall without affecting its overall stability in the slightest.

Yet in the next moment, an accident occurred.

As the monster struggled to get up, its whip snagged on a pipe extending from the boiler room. The hard barbs on the whip were tough and sharp, easily slicing through the thick insulation wrapping the pipe's surface.

The air temperature instantly rose by several degrees, and the monster next to the pipe instinctively backed away a few steps. With another roar, it turned back to continue besieging the female officer. Only after it left did Lynch creep closer to the exposed pipe.

Memories of the movies gradually surfaced: it seemed that in large-scale steam equipment, the boiler and steam engine were separated for certain reasons. The boiler mainly boiled water, while what actually produced the real output was the steam engine.

Then what was I dawdling around in the boiler room for?

Knocking himself on the head in self-reproach, Lynch looked up and searched around once more.

Steam engine, where are you, where...

Billows of black smoke still surged overhead, but Lynch suddenly realized that white smoke was mixed in among the black.

It was such a normal sight—he had seen it every single day since transmigrating, so he had never paid attention to it before. Only now, thinking carefully, did he realize its peculiarity.

The white smoke was more like mist, spewing out from a short, stubby stone smokestack. Lynch didn't quite understand what it was, but since it was unique in the entire factory, it was very likely the most crucial facility.

Coincidentally, that high-temperature pipe from just now was extending in that very direction. Every unusual arrangement had to have a reason.

And that reason was exactly what he needed.

Immediately giving up on the boiler, Lynch turned toward the smokestack emitting white smoke. It wasn't far away, and there were no monsters in the street. In less than a minute, Lynch appeared at the entrance.

Instantly, Lynch knew he had come to the right place.

Because the sight inside was utterly disgusting.

Inside was a colossal machine he couldn't comprehend at all, covered with rotating gears and oscillating connecting rods. A massive roar echoed from within, as though half of the entire factory's noise originated right here.

On the machine's base were several levers and valves, completely unmanned, yet opening and closing on their own from time to time. With each shift, a series of shrill hisses of venting gas sounded inside the machine, and vast plumes of steam blasted out, gathering into the chubby tower and turning into dense white mist.

Lynch felt disgusted because the entire room was coated in a network resembling blood vessels. These “blood vessels” stretched all the way outward until they sank into the concrete floor. At the other end of the vessels stood that striking steam engine, its surface already smothered by massive clumps of flesh, beating rhythmically like an enormous heart. Every time the “heart” contracted, the blood vessels squirmed, as if something were being pumped out.

“Roar—” Another roar echoed in the distance, followed by a massive burst of black mist erupting into midair. Lynch knew this meant Officer Natalie had slain another unkillable monster overseer. However, he immediately noticed that the moment the black mist erupted, the “heart” contracted violently, and the blood vessels in one direction squirmed at high frequency, only stopping after a moment.

Neighbor above, so the memory's power source was literal—this thing was driving the entire memory.

Destroy the entire steam engine? Or would just purging this flesh be enough? For a moment, Lynch couldn't find an answer.

Then there was no need to look for one.

Without wasting another second pondering a solution, Lynch directly put on The Passion of the Blazing Lady.

Burn all these disgusting things to ash first.

The next moment, flames engulfed the empty steam engine room. The network of flesh crawling across the room turned to charcoal in the blink of an eye under the blistering heat.

The air instantly filled with a foul stench. Large charred chunks of flesh clung to the walls and machinery, creating an even more visually striking and gruesome sight.

A few minutes later, the entire room was cleared. The squirming, dark-brown flesh completely vanished, and the valves and levers lost their ability to move automatically, sitting as motionless as inanimate objects.

Reverting to his human form, Lynch looked at the quieted engine room, then glanced outside.

The monsters outside seemed to have received some sudden provocation; completely abandoning Officer Natalie, they were now converging toward the engine room.

Was burning the flesh not enough? It looks like the steam engine itself must be destroyed. That's troublesome.

No, judging by the monsters' reaction, it should have been effective, but why did the equipment seem unchanged? It hadn't stopped either.

While muttering inwardly, something caught the corner of his eye.

Looking closer, it was a dial on the machine. The needle pointed to a red zone on one side of the dial; despite already hitting the end of the gauge, it continued violently banging against the edge, as if trying to push past its maximum limit.

At the same time, the levers and valves that had stopped moving began to tremble faintly. The shaking grew more and more violent, even emitting faint clicking sounds.

Ah, I remember now. The movie said this thing is a cylinder pressure gauge—excessive pressure means the cylinder could at any moment... explode?

Just as he realized this, the vibrating machinery suddenly froze, plunging the engine room into a momentary, dead silence.

Oh, damn.

Boom.