High Martial Arts: From Mechanic to Sword Immortal

"The third harvester broke down last night."

"Without this axle, a lot of things would have been delayed!"

He turned around abruptly and roared at the top of his lungs into the distance.

"Erga Zi!"

"Bring the crane over here! Hurry!"

"Be gentle, don't bump our precious little one!"

After yelling, he turned back.

He pulled a crumpled, unopened pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Without saying a word, it was forcefully shoved into Han Feng's hand.

"Young man, this plane of yours is fucking a gem!"

"Look at this load capacity!"

"Look at that sturdy belly!"

"Just looking at it makes me feel at ease!"

Zhou Ping's tone was full of the highest praise for industrial creations.

"It's so much better than those flashy, useless gadgets!"

Not far away.

Gu Yun, who was still maintaining his handsome pose, froze completely with a smile.

He froze on the spot.

A gust of wind carrying the earthy smell swept by.

A few withered yellow wheat leaves swirled around.

It landed lightly beside his shiny white flight boots.

Flashy and frivolous?

A little gadget?

Gu Yun took off her sunglasses and looked incredulously at the middle-aged fat man who was so fond of the "gray donkey".

His "Alice".

That artwork, designed by the chief designer of Xinghai Technology, cost enough to buy an entire outer city factory.

The aircraft, painted with a limited edition "White-Haired Witch," represents the ultimate creation of absolute aesthetics and performance.

They actually... lost to a fat and ugly logistics transport plane?

"Pfft."

A suppressed yet still clear laugh came from the side.

Wang Meng couldn't hold back any longer.

He walked over.

His huge hand slammed heavily on Gu Yun's shoulder.

It almost slapped Gu Yun's thin body so hard it was embedded in the ground.

"Did you hear that, Young Master Gu?"

Wang Meng was so happy that he showed off his big white teeth.

"The farmer said that yours is just a fancy little gadget."

"Looks like your 'wife' isn't very charming."

"In this area, those who can haul goods and do the work are the real bosses."

Wang Meng leaned closer and said in a low voice.

"Can your paper-thin wife even get to work and fix a tractor?"

Gu Yun slapped Wang Meng's hand away and angrily put her sunglasses back on.

The movements were extremely rapid.

"shallow!"

"Utterly vulgar!"

"This is a blatant desecration of art!"

He turned away with a pained expression.

He gently wiped away a non-existent dust spot on the wing with a silk handkerchief.

"Alice, don't listen to these barbarians."

"They have no idea what elegance and nobility are."

Gu Yun gritted her teeth.

With his other hand, he instinctively pulled out the golden lucky coin.

It flips rapidly on the fingertips, producing a crisp clinking sound.

"snort."

"If you don't get MVP in today's battle, I'll... I'll go back and put that 'battle-damaged' paint job on you!"

"So you'll look like a barbarian too!"

Wang Meng burst into laughter.

Carrying his enormous battle axe, he walked contentedly towards the assembly point.

Han Feng was directing the farm workers to unload the goods.

Seeing this, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

These teammates have such distinct personalities, it's almost excessive.

After unloading the goods, Zhou Ping warmly invited everyone to board an open-top electric bus.

The vehicle was covered with four large, faded characters that read "Golden Harvest Farm".

"The conditions are basic, please bear with us, all you elites."

Zhou Ping, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and smiled.

"The dormitory is right behind the office building."

"The cafeteria has already prepared the food."

"All freshly slaughtered black mountain pigs, plenty to go!"

Gu Yun looked at the dusty chair with a look of disgust.

He took out a sealed, disposable, sterile cushion from his backpack and carefully laid it out.

He then used two fingers to hold onto his trouser leg and barely managed to sit down.

"I'd like to stay in a single room."

Gu Yun spoke, his tone revealing his undisguised spoiled brat attitude.

"I'm not used to being squeezed with other people."

"Especially with certain savages who snore in their sleep."

Wang Meng sat in the back row with his legs crossed, and scoffed when he heard this.

"Who would want to live with you?"

"I'm afraid you'll talk in your sleep to the paper figures on the wall in the middle of the night and scare me to death."

Zhang Hao sat at the front, holding a terminal and checking the map, speaking without turning his head.

"Stop being picky."

"This is a frontline farm, not your backyard."

Two people per room, you can choose your own.

The car started and bumped along the dirt road in the fields.

Tall purple wheat trees line both sides of the road.

The heavy purple ears of wheat swayed in the wind.

A strange, sweet fragrance filled the air.

Han Feng sat at the back of the car, but his gaze did not linger on the scene of the harvest.

He looked at the drainage ditch by the roadside.

There was some freshly turned, damp soil, which was much darker in color than the surrounding dry soil.

"Director Zhou."

Han Feng suddenly spoke.

Zhou Ping, who was explaining the situation to Zhang Hao, turned around.

"What's wrong, young man?"

"Has there been a lot of activity underground these past few days?"

Zhou Ping's smile faded slightly.

She glanced at Han Feng with some surprise.

"You noticed it too?"

He sighed.

"It's certainly not peaceful."

"These past two days, there have been 'wriggling rats' digging up the foundation."

"The guard team also took down two mutated 'mad rabbits' last night."

"They're just insignificant little things."

Han Feng's nose twitched slightly.

The extraordinary perception granted by the Sword Control Technique allowed him to discern extremely subtle energy fluctuations in the air.

That earthy smell wasn't just the simple scent of soil.

Instead, it was mixed with a faint, cold, and sticky "evil aura".

That's the unique smell that comes from the gathering of a large number of low-level demonic beasts, whose life magnetic fields pollute and distort each other.

"The flavor is a bit strong."

Han Feng said in a low voice.

Zhou Ping clearly did not have Han Feng's keen perception.

He waved his hand, not paying much attention.

"Hey, it's harvest season."

"It's normal for these beasts to come and snatch food just because they smell it."

"Our high-voltage psionic grid isn't to be underestimated either."

The car quickly stopped in front of a two-story building.

"We're here. This is the dormitory."

Zhou Ping pointed upstairs.

"Men on the left, women on the right, please tidy up and meet at the cafeteria in ten minutes for lunch."

Gu Yun was the first to jump off the car.

Carrying his exquisite suitcase covered in anime stickers, he headed straight for the room with the best view on the second floor.

"This one's mine!"

"I want a bed by the window, where the light is good and it's perfect for taking pictures of my figurines!"

Zhang Hao looked at Han Feng and gave a helpless smile.

Looks like we'll have to squeeze in.

"I don't care."

Han Feng shrugged.

"As long as the bed doesn't collapse, it's fine."

After settling their luggage, everyone went to the cafeteria.

As soon as you enter, a rich aroma of meat forcefully fills everyone's nostrils.

That's not the chemical flavoring of synthetic meat.

Rather, it is the original fragrance that comes out of truly fresh meat after it has been stewed.

Several large pots, each nearly a meter in diameter, were tumbling on the stove.

It contains large chunks of pork with bones stewed inside.

The soup is bright red and glistening with oil.

Next to it was a small mountain of white steamed buns.

Each one was as big as an adult's fist, steaming hot.

Han Feng was carrying a stainless steel plate.

The meat was piled up without any hesitation.

I found a corner to sit down and began to enjoy my meal.

Cultivation consumes a great deal of qi and blood.

His stomach is now a bottomless pit.

Gu Yun held the plate, picking at the fatty parts of the meat with a look of disgust.

"It's too greasy."

"This is bad for my skin."

He took small bites of the steamed bun.

Looking at Han Feng's ferocious eating habits, I couldn't help but frown and complain.

"Are you a reincarnated starving ghost?"

"If you eat so much, aren't you afraid you'll throw it all up in your helmet when the G-forces kick in during flight?"

Han Feng didn't even look up.

He was holding a steamed bun in his left hand and gnawing on a big bone in his right.

He replied vaguely.

"rest assured."

"My stomach is more stable than your plane."

Gu Yun's face instantly turned green.

I almost threw away the steamed bun I was holding.

"vulgar!"

"Nausea!"

"You...you're making a personal attack!"

Just then, heavy footsteps came from the cafeteria entrance.

Boom, boom, boom.

Each step caused the concrete floor to tremble slightly.

Han Feng raised his head.

A burly man walked in.

His body blocked out most of the light from the doorway.

The man was wearing a faded military green vest.

Beneath his bronze skin were terrifying muscles, as bulging and knotted as rocks.

What is most striking is his right arm.

From the elbow down, it is not flesh and blood.

Instead, they are mechanical prosthetics with a cold, metallic sheen.

The prosthetic limb was crudely and wildly made.

It was covered with scratches of varying depths and solidified oil stains.

Exposed hydraulic lines can still be seen at the joints.

It is full of primal, violent aesthetics.

Lei Zhen, manager of Jinsui Farm.