The thirty-ninth fortress, lower level.
Liu Lang's blacksmith shop had recently beco deserted, with everyone in the lower level trapped in a state of panic.
The frequent disappearance of a large number of people was one thing, but the patrols coming door to door to search was another.
Such circumstances had persisted for almost a month.
Under the pervasive anxiety, the efficiency of mining also declined.
It was common to hear team leaders from the mining area venting their frustrations and complaints at Liu Lang's place, and Liu Lang would just chuckle in response.
After all, he too had only been released not long ago.
Due to the demonic child invasion incident, many old miners who had associations with certain individuals had been taken in for questioning, until an event over twenty days ago, after which everyone was released back.
But Liu Lang, just as familiar with the lower level as Tang, had noticed sothing else.
A good number of the old miners had disappeared. So of them knew Tang Xian, while others had never seen him at all.
In the patrol teams, the regular military was no longer the sole presence; the bronze-clad knights were unusually conspicuous.
Sumr was nearly over, and even though the seasons in the fortress were indistinct, Liu Lang still had a premonition that a troubled autumn was looming.
Looking out at the quiet today, even Decay Street across from him was silent, he knew business was going to be even tougher.
Liu Lang lit a cigarette, but his mindset remained optimistic. After a short while, he went back to his smithy.
There was actually a secret room within the blacksmith shop's forging chamber.
It chiefly stored so odd and interesting items which were components Liu Lang tinkered with in his leisure ti. Rings, long swords, scepters, golden statues—whatever he thought of, he made.
This secret room was very well hidden, concealed behind the furnace wall, and even during several thorough searches, Liu Lang's secret room had gone undiscovered.
Liu Lang shared a similar history with Tang, both scoring extrely high in their survival examination culture subjects, of course—he didn't exaggerate by getting a perfect score.
But his scores in all subjects were not low. It was just that he lacked talent, and in a system like the Trial of the Chosen, such individuals also had prospects.
If Tang Xian had not scored perfect marks but deliberately gotten a few wrong, perhaps Tang would also be having a decent life now.
Of course, the difference in the level environnt wasn't important to Tang.
Liu Lang could have developed on the third level; many design companies were interested in him.
He had gladly accepted and stayed on the third floor, choosing a local self-employed business.
But after he got to the third level, Liu Lang discovered a harsh reality.
No matter how outstanding his work was in the company or how high his professional level, no one appreciated him.
It was because he lacked talent.
Even a subordinate with just one talent would often look at Liu Lang with disdain.
This disdain was like the way so locals in a city look down on outsiders or the way people of different skin colors regard one another—contempt that cos from deep within the bones.
Liu Lang wouldn't deal with this condescension; his life was like his na.
He resigned from the job many from the lower level envied and went down to the bottom.
The lower level was chaotic, with people being beaten every day for no apparent reason.
Like the incident in the Xiang Family casino, where a masked stranger, without any obvious reason, slapped the casino manager several tis, then smashed up the place and drifted away.
There was much of this senseless chaos.
But Liu Lang adapted well.
Compared to the orderly but coldly chanical life on the third level, Liu Lang thrived amidst the chaos of the lower level.
Although his blacksmith shop was not large, it was a rare place that seldom had trouble and, while business was not booming, it was certainly enough to get by.
He didn't have to mine; he could live off his craftsmanship.
Most importantly, everyone here lacked talent. People didn't distinguish between high and low, noble and humble, they relied on skill alone to speak for themselves.
After he returned from the house arrest at the Li family, Liu Lang made so improvents to the secret room.
Afterward, he t soone who should have had no connection to him at all.
Li Xiaoyu.
The intelligent Liu Lang quickly pieced together so facts.
First was the release of himself and his group, followed by the relaxation of the visa requirents.
Then, the patrols in the lower level intensified, with major searches happening almost daily.
Subsequently, he saw the Miss Li, disheveled and disreputable, which led him to certain possibilities.
He still rembered the words Li Xiaoyu had said to him.
It was like a gambler who, at his wits' end, staked everything on a final desperate bet.
"I've looked into all the connections Tang Xian had over the past six years. There were twenty-six temps who could be called acquaintances, and five owners of various businesses on Decay Street.
Among them, Luo and you are the ones he got along with most. But you're different from Luo, at least later on my people couldn't buy you off. I want to ask you sothing, and you'd better answer honestly."
"Ask away," Liu Lang was a bit baffled at the ti.
"Is Tang Xian still your friend?"
Liu Lang smiled, watching the girl's strained effort to hold back, which reminded him of his sister's deanor as a child.
From Li Xiaoyu's attire, her physical condition, and the dirt on her body, it was evident she had been to the mining area.
What's more, her condition was very poor; although she spoke coherently, her breathing was extrely hurried.
Why would the noble Miss Li go to the mining area, and why would she be in such a sorry state?
As these thoughts flashed through Liu Lang's mind, he beca even more convinced of his deductions.
"Of course, Tang Xian is my friend. If there's anyone in the lower level I can talk to, it's him."
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