A Villain's Journey Begins in the Type-Moon World

"Director! Are you out of your mind? Those protective suits were so hard to make, and you just burned them like that?" A worker rushed forward, questioning him anxiously and angrily.

Peter struggled to turn his eyes, glancing at the gang members outside the workshop who were there to guard their whereabouts.

The workers immediately understood, suppressed their anger, and quickly carried Peter deep into the workshop, while alertly assigning men to guard the entrance to prevent gang members from suddenly breaking in.

"Water...give me water..."

Peter lay on the makeshift mat, his voice hoarse. The workers treated his lacerated whip wounds with makeshift medical supplies, while someone brought him water and carefully fed it to him.

"Ahem... Brothers, listen to me."

Peter paused to catch his breath, then looked around at the weathered yet furious faces that had gathered around him, and continued:

“I know… what you’re thinking. The Ironblood Axe… those beasts have never treated us like human beings! It was like that in the past, and it’s still like that now!”

He took a deep breath, and a long-suppressed flame ignited in his eyes:

"The Gulag... that brat's father is long dead! The shackles that weigh us down should have been broken long ago! The Reunion Movement's propaganda brochures... you... have all seen them, right?"

The workers remained silent, nodding vigorously. In this city, no one hated the endless oppression and bloodshed brought by the Originium industry more than they did.

"It's me... I've always been the one who's let everyone down..."

Peter's voice was filled with deep pain and self-reproach:

"I kept thinking... just bear with it... just bear with it a little longer... maybe the misfortune will eventually pass, maybe things will get better..."

He shook his head in anguish, tears mingling with blood streaming down his face, and said in a hoarse voice:

"It wasn't until the whip lashed my skin that I truly understood... that forbearance only brought more and more oppression! Look at Chernobog now, isn't it because we've become so accustomed to enduring?!"

He struggled to sit up, his gaze sweeping fiercely over every face: "How many workers' relatives and friends...died in today's crackdown? Even they had the courage to resist, so are we all cowards?!"

"I stopped everyone just now not so that you would continue to endure it!"

Peter's voice suddenly became strong and powerful:

"I want everyone to be fully prepared! To officially... launch the rebellion!" (The rest of the text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the preceding sentences.)

"There's a firefight outside right now, and the army can't control us anymore. There are only the remaining gang members in the industrial zone."

"They boast about having weapons, but they've forgotten that those weapons were all produced by us. Those supplies are still sitting in the workshop."

"Ha, the Gulag is just a brat who hasn't even grown up yet, he's way dumber than his father... He actually let those equipment just sit there in our hands like that..."

"You should understand what this means, right?"

Peter's intentions were now crystal clear. The anger in the workers' eyes was replaced by a surge of fighting spirit under the influence of Peter's words. They clenched their fists, awaiting instructions.

"Director, what do you suggest we do?" a worker asked in a deep voice, his tone filled with determination.

“Go, quietly invite all the other workshop foremen over,” Peter instructed with difficulty. “If those gang members outside ask, just say you're collecting protective suits, and those scum will let you through…”

A resolute glint flashed in his eyes: "Let them all see my miserable state, I will personally shatter their last shred of hope..."

"If we're going to resist, then let's mobilize all the workers in the industrial park!" Peter's voice was weak, but it carried the force of a thunderbolt. "Now, it's time to completely remove this venomous snake that has been sucking our blood for so long!"

Chapter 374: Dawn Tears Through the Night

No one could have predicted that in the dead of night, amidst the chaos of war, a cataclysmic change was brewing in the Chernobog industrial zone. Gulag was completely oblivious, preoccupied with how to quickly gather supplies to appease all of Dor, unaware that a deadly crisis was quietly approaching.

"Dong dong dong..."

A knock on the door interrupted Gulag's thoughts. He snapped irritably, "Who is it?!"

A response came from outside the door: "Boss, Director Peter said that everything is ready. Do you want to inspect the goods? After you've inspected them, the brothers can deliver them directly to the officers."

"All done? Damn, finally finished! If we had dawdled any longer, it would have been dawn!"

Gulag first breathed a sigh of relief, then his dissatisfaction surged, and he questioned sharply:

"Did they burn all those cumbersome work clothes they made them burn?!"

"Burn them all, boss. Those old foxes were dragging their feet, they wouldn't do anything until we had a crossbow to their heads." The person outside the door sounded clearly impatient.

These words, ironically, pleased the Gulag.

"Yes! That's the way to do it! These old bastards think that just because my dad's dead, no one can control them? If we don't teach them a lesson, they'll really think they can ride roughshod over me! You guys did a great job, you'll all get a reward later!"

After saying that, Gulag stood up and shouted at the gang members in the room:

"Come on, let's inspect the goods! There can't be the slightest mistake on this batch!"

Gulag led his men briskly toward Peter's production workshop. Among the crowd, the henchman who had previously pleaded for Peter's life was frowning, his mind filled with doubt.

He considered himself a social butterfly in the gang, familiar with the voices of most members. But the voice that answered from outside the door sounded completely unfamiliar; it was definitely not any of the people he knew who were responsible for guarding Peter's workshop.

An ominous premonition crept into my heart.

However, seeing Gulag's smug expression and remembering that his previous pleas had already displeased his boss, the underling ultimately chose to remain silent. He subtly slowed his pace, falling to the back of the group, and secretly became more vigilant.

The group quickly arrived at Peter's production workshop. Upon entering, Gulag frowned. The workshop was unusually dimly lit, with only a few emergency lights casting a faint glow, a stark contrast to the brightly lit scene during normal overtime work.

"What the hell? It's so dark! Turn on the lights for me!" Gulag yelled in dissatisfaction.

The "gang member" who had led the way immediately stepped forward and explained:

"Boss, this is your first time inspecting the goods in person, so you may not know. Some of the Originium derivatives that are currently being produced are too active and cannot withstand strong light, so we deliberately dimmed the environment."

Then, he turned to the depths of the workshop and said:

"Look, that small box on the table in front of you contains the high-purity Originium samples the military needs. Further back, there are stacks of armor and weapons."

Gulag gave a skeptical "hmm," though he had heard that Originium was sensitive to strong light. He patiently followed the "gang member" into the dimly lit inner room.

He walked to the table, leaned closer to the small box, and peered inside in the dim light. Inside the box were indeed several Originium stones emitting a faint glow.

While Gulag and his henchmen were focused on the small box, the "gang member" mysteriously retreated and hid in the darkness.

This scene was noticed by the wary henchman. His expression changed, and without even notifying the Gulag, he retreated and hid in a dark corner.

"That can't be right!" Gulag's brows furrowed even more. "This little bit? The goods we delivered to the army before were far more than this! Who are you trying to fool?"

"Hmph! It's certainly not enough for the army." A cold, hateful voice suddenly rang out from the shadows, "But it's more than enough to send you beasts to hell!"

Gulag looked up abruptly and found that the "gang member" from before was nowhere to be seen.

Realizing he had fallen into a trap, the Gulag was about to flee when the Originium in the box suddenly erupted with a blinding crimson light! A burst of violent energy was instantly detonated!

"boom--!!!"

A deafening explosion shattered the workshop's tranquility! A blast of scorching heat, carrying metal fragments and Originium debris, swept out like the Grim Reaper's scythe!

The closest Gulag was the first to be hit. A hole the size of a bowl was blown open in his chest, and blood mixed with fragments of internal organs spurted out. He didn't even have time to scream before he was violently thrown like a rag doll and crashed heavily to the ground, leaving only weak twitches and eyes full of terror and resentment.

The surrounding henchmen were also affected by the blast wave, screams echoing throughout. Those who were close by died on the spot, while those who were a little further away were all injured and bleeding profusely.

The lights blazed on instantly after the explosion! A group of workers dressed in Ursus uniforms and carrying sharp crossbows emerged like ghosts from the dark corners of the workshop and behind the machines!

Their eyes were cold, their movements swift, and they pulled the triggers without hesitation against the gang members who were still struggling or trying to resist!

Precise crossbow bolts, fueled by vengeful fury, mercilessly reaped lives. Screams echoed through the workshop before quickly fading into silence.

The henchman, hiding in a dark corner, was only grazed on the arm by flying shards because he was far enough away and reacted quickly. He watched the bloody scene before him in horror, cowering in the corner, trembling.

At that moment, supported by two workers, a figure wrapped in bandages and walking with difficulty emerged from around the corner. It was Director Peter, who had been beaten to the point of near death by the Gulag.

He walked with difficulty to the Gulag's mangled corpse, looked down at the once arrogant face now frozen in fear, his eyes showing no pity, only a complex sigh.

"Gulag... such a way of dying is too easy for you."

Peter's voice was hoarse and weary. He knew in his heart that besides his twisted family background, the cannibalistic world was equally to blame for turning this underage boy into such a violent monster. But at this moment, pity was meaningless.

"Wait! Don't kill me! Please! Don't kill me!" came the wounded henchman's tearful plea from the corner.

Peter looked up at the sound and recognized the person. "You Yongne Mei Mei Kong Ni Lin Zai Zai Meine..."

"It's you?" He gestured for the workers who were about to take action to stop. "Tie him up. This guy pleaded for me once before, so I owe him a favor. If it weren't for him, I might not have made it back alive."

Peter turned to the terrified younger brother, his tone stern:

"You saved my life once, so I'll spare it. But your position means we can't set you free. If you want to live, stay here obediently and wait for us to finish what we have to do!"

He waved his hand, and immediately two workers stepped forward and tied the young man up tightly with sturdy ropes.

"Yes...yes...thank you, Director! Thank you, Director!"

The younger brother nodded repeatedly, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon. He knew perfectly well that the workers in the entire industrial zone had completely rebelled! Not only had they donned the brand-new armor that should have been delivered to the army and taken up sharp weapons, but they had also caught Ironblood Axe off guard with a well-intentioned but unexpected attack.

Although the gang was about to be destroyed, at least he had survived... which was much luckier than his companions on the ground.

Under Director Peter's overall command, the revolutionary storm quickly swept through the industrial zone. Without the support of the entire Dor army, the remaining rabble of the Iron Axe were simply no match for the surging tide of workers, fueled by countless tears and anger.

The workers knew every inch of the land and every machine in the area like the back of their hand, and they used this knowledge to stealthily eliminate gang members scattered throughout the region.

Even more deadly, the workers found a token symbolizing the gang leader on the Gulag's body. Using this token, they cleverly set traps, luring gang members out one by one from their easily defensible positions, and eliminating them silently.

As the first hint of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon, and the darkness was about to be dispelled, Peter, dragging his battered body, struggled to climb an abandoned platform in the industrial area, surrounded by workers.

In the dim light of dawn, he looked down at the dark mass of people gathered in the square below—the awakened power of the entire industrial zone's workers! They wore captured armor, held various weapons, and their eyes burned with an unprecedented light.

Peter took a deep breath, mustered all his strength, and shouted downwards. His voice, though hoarse, was full of power, echoing in the silent morning air:

"Brothers! Sisters! From today onwards—"

"Our workers in Chernobog will no longer have to suffer the exploitation of those beasts!"

"Put on this armor! Pick up this weapon!"

"Go support our families! Go join the Reunion Movement!"

"Fight those scoundrel soldiers who are harming our homeland to the very end!"

Upon hearing Peter's final, loud shout, thousands of workers in the square raised their weapons and roared back with equal deafening fury:

"Join the integration! Fight to the very end!"

"Join the integration! Fight to the very end!"

The roar coalesced into a torrent, shattering the silence of the industrial zone. Dawn began to tear through the lingering night, heralding a new turning point in the battle for Chernobog.

Chapter 375: The Final Offensive

"This is getting interesting..."

Wang Chong slowly opened his eyes, a meaningful smile curving his lips.

Aside from the workers who rose up in resistance, perhaps only he, who could perceive the dramatic changes that had occurred in the industrial zone so clearly through the black fog that covered the entire city and allowed him to see every movement in Chernobog.

"I was worried about how long the ground lifting platform could hold out, but now it's great, we've gained a fresh force out of nowhere."

Wang Chong pondered to himself, a surge of unexpected joy welling up within him:

"The workers in the industrial park embraced integration directly... To be honest, this really surprised me. Although I had been trying to persuade them in the industrial park, they always lacked the courage to take the final step."

"This time, we managed to force them to our side by using that student traitor."

Thinking of this, Wang Chong's gaze subconsciously drifted towards the direction where Precys was, and he pondered:

"...Hmm, is it just my imagination? I feel like my luck has been better than ever since I took control of Precyth."

Immediately, an interesting plan took shape in Wang Chong's mind. He immediately used the power of the black mist to send a telepathic message to Precys.

Not long after, the Doctor, accompanied by Priscilla, came up behind Wang Chong.

“I’ve seen both of you perform well.” Wang Chong turned around and glanced at the two of them. “Prysus’s medical support goes without saying, but the key is the Doctor’s command ability, which has impressed me. You seem to be very good at this kind of small-scale tactical command.”

"Perhaps I've encountered something similar in the past..." (The rest of the text appears to be a series of unrelated phrases and sentences, possibly from different sources.)

The female PhD student shook her head slightly, her tone carrying a hint of uncertainty:

"It's hard to describe the feeling. Anyway, I tried it and found that I could do it, so I did it."

She paused, then added, "I don't have much to say here, but I can't bear to see those citizens waste their passion. I hope they can survive to the end."

"Also, boss..." The doctor looked at Wang Chong, his tone filled with admiration, "Your control over the entire battle situation is truly brilliant. You almost accurately predicted every move the enemy made and were always able to block their attack routes at the first opportunity."

"Hehe, I won't bother with formalities."

Wang Chong gently patted the female PhD student's shoulder, then his expression turned serious, and he said:

“Listen, Doctor, I need you to go and support the ground elevator shaft. All of Dor has gone all in and is determined to take it. I reckon he has figured out our troop deployment and is preparing to launch a final assault, using the [Comrades] formation to force a breakthrough.”

“However,” Wang Chong changed the subject, a glint in his eyes, “fortunately, not long ago, we welcomed a new group of allies. They not only have a large number of people, but they also successfully intercepted a large amount of regular military equipment.”

“Now, I need you to take this token,” Wang Chong handed the female doctor a token that resembled a design blueprint. “Go immediately to the location I indicated to meet with them. Tell them that I have appointed you as their tactical instructor and that you will teach them how to properly support the ground-based take-off and landing zone.”

"In other words, this is an important dispatch mission."