Chapter 92: Secret Modifications in the Underground Grotto

In the deep passage, the captain of the Royal Guard, Peter Cech, was bare-chested. His muscles, hard as if carved by knife and axe, bulged like stone. Below, he wore simple breeches designed by Sun Fei, recently popular across Shampoo City. He swung a massive hammer weighing at least five hundred pounds like a windmill. With loud CRASH! THUD! sounds, a murky yellow Earth Elemental Combat Aura flickered wildly around him. Cech, like a humanoid demolition machine, relentlessly tore down the iron bars of stone chambers, a brutal act of forced removal.

Cech had fully absorbed the remaining power of the [Hulk Potion] in his system. The faint green hue on his skin vanished, changing his whole being from the thin, dispirited state he was in before. His muscles had become strong and large. Besides his physical strength, his relentless cultivation over this period had even restored his Earth Elemental Combat Aura to its former peak Two-Star Level. His rapid recovery within just over a dozen days was primarily because he had originally possessed this strength. In the past, Peter Cech was known as the top defender in the Two-Star Domain thanks to his impenetrable Horizontal Lock Sword Technique. His defensive capability was unparalleled. Furthermore, he had considerable skill in military command. Therefore, Cech’s recovery was, for Sun Fei, no less valuable than gaining another military commander to lead an army independently, next to Brook.

Prison Warden Oleg’s obese figure weaved back and forth through the crowd.

Seemingly inspired by Cech’s bare-chested display, the Prison Warden also stripped off his top. Whenever huge boulders or chunks of iron were too heavy to move, Oleg would chortle, his bulk wobbling as he stepped in personally to help, showcasing the immense strength he had gained from the [Hulk Potion] transformation.

Like Sun Fei, he was a fellow who liked to show off.

Upon hearing the soldiers’ gasps and comments, Oleg would always puff up proudly. Perhaps driven by just such vanity, his Combat Aura level still lingered around the One-Star mark, but his physical might had surged wildly to Two-Star Level. He seemed to have channeled all the [Hulk Potion]’s energy purely into physical transformation. Oleg now exuded a certain fierce, vicious aura, boasting a visible six-pack abs on his belly. He had shed the image of the timid and seedy fat rat he was only half a month ago.

Watching from afar as this cowardly, money-grubbing fat man actually bonded with the soldiers and earned respect from some veterans, Sun Fei, though slightly surprised, also felt satisfied. Was that rascal Oleg sprinting blindingly fast on his path to redemption? He had practically left everyone else eating dust!

“King Alexander!”

“Your Majesty the King!”

As Sun Fei appeared, faces lighting up with worship, the soldiers bowed respectfully. Sun Fei walked slowly, smiling and greeting each soldier by name. After days of interaction, he could now accurately call out every soldier’s name. For Sun Fei, this was a small way to win hearts. Yet, when the young soldiers heard their King knew their names, they were invariably moved to feverish devotion.

The demolition of the Iron Prison Water Dungeon was proceeding with tense, orderly efficiency.

Sun Fei brought new blueprints for the second phase, handing them to the busy chief blacksmith.

Shampoo City had over thirty blacksmiths. The most skilled and respected among them was a middle-aged man named Samuel. His short black hair stood stiffly on end like steel needles. Usually taciturn and as steady as solid rock, people fondly called him [The Rock]. While reserved in personality, he was remarkably loyal and passionate, a classic rough-hewn man — cold exterior, warm heart.

By the searing furnace, Samuel carefully studied the patterns on the animal hide provided by the King. His brow furrowed tightly into a solid mass. He stopped working, deep in thought, his expression shifting between surprise and confusion, changing rapidly.

Sun Fei, finding his expressions amusing, went over and explained each blueprint one by one. He carefully detailed important points to remember during the forging process. Samuel remained mostly silent, but his comprehension of the craft was clearly exceptional; he grasped many complex points instantly. Finally, his brow smoothed out, an expression of sudden understanding settling on his face. With a firm nod, he declared: “Your Majesty the King, you can rest assured. We will definitely forge these iron pieces within ten days.”

Sun Fei smiled. “It’s been hard on everyone. Time is short, and the task is heavy. So, if you have any requests regarding payment or food, feel free to ask Warden Oleg. He will satisfy your needs.”

At their King’s generous assurance, the blacksmiths cheered joyfully.

Sun Fei made a careful inspection of the entire Underground Grotto Labyrinth, refining his designs based on the site conditions. He then summoned Cech and Oleg to his side and headed towards the prepared King’s Chambers, located next to the immense stone hall.

He had matters to assign to them.

However, as Sun Fei passed the furnace area once more, another idea sparked in his mind.

The large, heavy iron equipment the Shampoo City smiths like Samuel were forging was relatively simple and less challenging. The other smaller, more intricate components – gears, screws, and such – requiring high precision, Sun Fei had already entrusted to the female blacksmith Charsi in the Diablo World. That arrangement should be fine, and he could find a way to exchange these parts out of the Diablo World later.

But the cost of exchanging items out of the Diablo World was tremendously high, requiring massive amounts of Gold Coins. If only Charsi could follow Ileena’s path and come to the real world! That would be ideal. It would save a lot of exchange fees, and Samuel [The Rock] could learn some advanced forging techniques from Charsi. For Shampoo City’s current situation, master craftsmen were as crucial as skilled fighters. Getting the well-endowed female blacksmith Charsi to quickly train a batch of such talent would be excellent.

This notion flashed briefly through Sun Fei’s mind, immediately triggering further plans. He decided to test this plan thoroughly in the coming days.

The three soon reached a comfortable stone chamber carved into the grotto wall – a temporary residence prepared for the King.

Sun Fei produced another vial of [Hulk Potion] and handed it to Cech. He instructed him to dilute it thoroughly in water, as before, ensuring the soldiers ingested it without noticing.

These hundred soldiers were Shampoo City’s covert force. Having received the first diluted dose, their bodies had been sufficiently primed and were ready for a second round of enhancement. Sadly, for Cech, Brook, and others who had taken the maximum undiluted dose initially, their entire potential had already been unlocked. Further doses of [Hulk Potion] would yield no effect. To further boost the strength of these few, Sun Fei would need another method.

As Cech took the [Hulk Potion] and turned to leave, Sun Fei recalled something.

He suddenly called him back. “Oh, Peter… Among those blacksmiths, if any prove truly loyal, let them drink the diluted potion too. I believe, if their physical strength reaches a level similar to the soldiers, they’ll complete the next round of forging even faster.”

Delight flashed in Cech’s eyes. He bowed deeply in acknowledgment and departed.

Only Sun Fei and Oleg remained in the hall.

Sun Fei looked Oleg up and down several times. His gaze lingered pointedly on the cowardly fat man’s six-pack abs for a full second. Oleg shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, hands and feet awkward. Finally satisfied, Sun Fei nodded. “Good. You are… good. Very good… Oleg, you are a cunning fellow. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Oleg nodded rapidly.

He understood perfectly what the King meant by ‘Very good’.

Shampoo City’s power structure had been completely reshuffled. The former Herald, Bazel, was now a nationally wanted fugitive, charged with high treason. Bazel’s faction had been largely eliminated through the iron-fisted campaigns led by the two commanders-in-chief, Best and Brook. Bazel’s cohorts, besides the Military Judge Conca, who had been personally slain by the King on the ramparts, had recently all been executed or captured – the net drawn tight. If any accomplice could be said to have escaped, it was him, Oleg. Labeled deeply as part of Bazel’s faction, he, too, had once acted as a cruel enabler, committing many wrongs. As a chief culprit, escaping punishment was unthinkable. Yet, the King had mercifully considered Oleg’s participation in the Stone Bridge battle. By sheer royal authority, His Majesty had shielded the wretched man Oleg. The King had always wanted Oleg to truly reform, to change public perception through deeds, earn the people’s forgiveness, and reintegrate into the leadership. Otherwise, Oleg’s mere survival, even propped up by royal support, would become a thorn inside Shampoo City’s heart of power, a perpetual seed of internal strife and factional infighting.

Oleg had long grasped King Alexander’s intention. A supremely cunning man, adept—if nowhere else—at social maneuvering, he naturally understood the path to earning the acceptance of principled men like Brook. Thus, during this time, Oleg diligently executed every task and indeed performed quite a few genuine good deeds. His efforts finally paid off as he gained the acceptance of Shampoo City’s majority.

“Oleg… thanks His Majesty Alexander for this rebirth of grace.”

Touched by this realization, gratitude welled in Oleg’s heart.

This time, the renowned bootlicker knelt properly on the ground. He performed a formal bow of respect. There were no flowery words of flattery. Nor did he stoop to kiss Sun Fei’s boots.

It was in this moment that his mind achieved unprecedented clarity, enlightenment striking him. Suddenly he understood: Respect and value resided only in the posture of one whose back is usually held straight. Solemnly bending that proud, upright back before the King was true reverence. In stark contrast, a spine forever primed for subservient curvature, bending easily anytime, offered before such a King as this? That was no honor. It signified nothing but humiliation.