Deposed? I couldn't be happier! I wouldn't even be a dog to the crown prince.

A cluster of welding sparks fell from the construction site above the clouds.

The light pierced through the thick industrial fumes hanging over Chang'an.

Driven by the strong winds high above, it drifted and descended.

Beyond the stratosphere, beyond the dazzling neon holographic signs of the city that never sleeps.

The temperature of the spark gradually decreased.

Finally, he fell into the lowest level of the slum alleys in the western part of Chang'an City, where the sun never shines.

There is no anti-gravity levitation shuttle here.

The only thing underfoot was rotten mud that oozed black water.

White, foul-smelling steam billowed from the iron railings of the sewers on both sides of the alley.

The air was filled with the smells of cheap engine oil, sour synthetic food, and the stench of people who hadn't showered for years.

A spark landed on a thick, muscular arm.

It made a soft "hissing" sound and then went out instantly.

There was no burnt skin.

Because it wasn't a human hand at all.

It was a crude, cheap robotic arm.

Zhiyuan stopped in his tracks.

He is a retired Shaolin monk.

The spot on his bald head where he once had tattoos left six dark red dents.

He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of greasy gray trousers.

Below the right shoulder, where flesh should have grown, is now replaced by a pile of scrap metal.

It was a hydraulic transmission rod salvaged from a decommissioned light military mech.

The paint on the outside had long since peeled off, revealing the rusty dark gray alloy underneath.

A few finger-thick copper wires connect to a cheap neural conversion chip.

They brutally drove several steel nails directly into the flesh of his shoulder.

The skin and flesh at the junction were rolled up, showing a sickly purplish-red color.

After the foundation of the Tang Dynasty's heavy industry was solidified, the benefits began to spill over to lower levels.

Those military scrap steels that were destroyed on the battlefield, and the obsolete parts of the first-generation mechs.

Large quantities flowed into the black market through underground channels.

Ordinary people at the bottom of society cannot afford the compliant gene-based drugs from the Tian Shu system.

They also can't afford those advanced bionic prosthetics that don't cause rejection.

But they have to work.

They had to carry those superconducting building materials, weighing hundreds of kilograms, in the newly built blast furnaces and mines.

Thus, this cheap modification, which involved welding scrap iron directly onto bones, spread like wildfire through the slums.

Zhiyuan raised the mechanical right arm.

The bearings inside the hydraulic rod emitted a stiff, creaking sound.

It feels like there's sandpaper rubbing back and forth inside.

He used the fleshy palm of his left hand to slap the joint of the robotic arm twice.

Two muffled thuds.

The stuck gears meshed back together.

This thing lacks the underlying protocol support of the Tian Shu system and does not have a compliant maintenance solution.

It will rust and short-circuit within a few days.

But he didn't have the money to buy a new one, so he could only resort to this makeshift method of patting it on to make do.

Ahead is a cargo loading and unloading distribution point.

Several unlicensed heavy-duty tracked vehicles were parked in the mud.

The truck was piled high with cut-up scrap metal ingots.

"Bald monk! What are you dawdling about!"

A fat man who looked like a foreman stood on a high place, holding a blue-glowing stun gun in his hand.

He had a cheap-quality voice-generating device attached to his neck.

His voice crackled with static.

"If you don't finish moving this truckload of goods before dark, none of you will get paid today!"

Zhiyuan remained silent.

He walked over and bent down.

The mechanical right arm extended two thick steel claws and directly gripped a metal ingot weighing four hundred pounds.

The fleshy palm of the left hand is supporting it from below.

Thigh muscles tense, lower back muscles exert force.

The servo motors inside the robotic arm emitted a piercing screeching sound.

He carried the heavy object on his shoulder.

The skin and flesh at the shoulder joint were violently pulled downwards.

A piercing pain shot straight to my head from my nerve endings.

Zhiyuan gritted his teeth, and the fat on his face twitched.

Black engine oil was seeping out from the loose valve.

Mixed with the blood that had been rubbed off his shoulder.

It flowed down the ribs, sticking to the stomach in a sticky consistency.

He carried the heavy load forward.

With each step, his bare feet left a deep hole in the mud.

Suddenly, a violent tremor came from above.

Above is a cargo silo that has been in disrepair for many years.

Several load-bearing iron bars broke due to overload.

A heavy bluestone slab weighing over a thousand pounds, interspersed with steel bars.

It crashed straight down from a height of three stories.

Directly below, there were several thin children picking up coal cinders.

The children were so frightened that they forgot to run and stood there dumbfounded.

Zhiyuan threw the metal ingot off his shoulder.

The heavy object crashed into the muddy water, splashing his face with dirty water.

He took a step forward.

My left foot slammed into the puddle, splashing mud everywhere.

The most basic horse stance in Shaolin Temple.

Its lower body is as stable as an old rock that has grown in the ground.

The waist twisted, and the spine made a series of popping sounds.

This is the traditional way of generating power in martial arts.

But when the force is transferred to the right shoulder, the path changes.

Zhiyuan took a deep breath.

The chest cavity bulged high.

He forcefully channeled the energy from his dantian through the nerves in his shoulder to convert it into a chip.

It was forced into that dilapidated robotic arm.

The motor was running wildly.

The internal coolant instantly boiled, releasing white steam.

He raised his right arm.

The metal fist slammed down hard on the falling bluestone slab.

boom!

A dull, resounding crash echoed through the alley.

There are no fancy moves.

A collision of pure physical kinetic energy.

The heavy bluestone slab was shattered into pieces by this punch in mid-air.

Large chunks of gravel crashed onto the surrounding tin roofs, making a clattering sound like ping-pong balls hitting a table.

Dust filled the air.

Several children fell to the ground, but were unharmed.

The seeds of cyberpunk martial arts have sprouted their brutal fangs in this sunless, underworld corner.

Zhiyuan hadn't had time to retract his fist.

A loud bang suddenly came from the robotic arm.

Click.

The already severely worn drive shaft could not withstand the violent reaction force from just now.

It disconnected immediately.

A broken piece of steel pipe pierced the outer shell at the elbow.

Immediately afterwards, the substandard valves completely collapsed.

Scalding hot engine oil gushed out like a fountain.

It splashed onto half of Zhiyuan's face.

The heat made him gasp, and his skin instantly became red, swollen, and blistered.

"Damn it..."

He swore, his voice trembling.

The robotic arm has completely gone out of control.

The broken gears were spinning erratically inside, making a screeching, teeth-grinding sound.

His neural chip started to short-circuit.

High-voltage bioelectricity surged through his body.

The metal fingers began to twitch uncontrollably.

He clenched his fist tightly and couldn't let go.

Sparks flew as the steel plates on the knuckles rubbed together.

"Get out of the way! Everyone get out of the way!"

Zhiyuan used his left hand to tightly hold onto his convulsing right arm.

He staggered and ran deeper into the alley.

He was afraid that the thing would explode completely and sweep the people around it in.

Unmaintained black market prosthetics, once they go berserk, are like fragmentation grenades that could explode at any moment.

He stumbled through the narrow alley.

He knocked over a stall selling synthetic starch sausage.

The boss was about to start cursing.

Seeing his mechanical arm emitting black smoke and twitching wildly, he was so frightened that he quickly shut his mouth.

The acrid smell of burnt engine oil in the air grew stronger and stronger.

Zhiyuan felt that half of his body was numb.

It felt like hundreds of needles were pricking my brain at the same time.

My vision started to blur.

He followed the route he remembered and turned into a dead end.

At the end of the alley was a brick wall covered with moss.

Zhiyuan leaned against the wall, panting heavily.

Sweat washed away the machine oil and blood on my face, flowing into my eyes and stinging painfully.

He lifted his left foot, which was still relatively intact.

At the very bottom of the brick wall, there is an inconspicuous black iron plate.

He kicked me hard.

Clang.

The iron plate was not locked.

He kicked it open, revealing a dimly lit staircase leading downwards.

A stronger smell of engine oil and burnt inferior coils wafted up from below.

Zhiyuan covered his right arm, which was starting to spew out sparks.

Gritting his teeth.

Stumbling and staggering, they pushed open the hidden door that didn't even have a sign.