A day later.

Chimu returned to the estate, having spent the day showing off shamelessly atop his golden lion with seven silver wolves trailing behind, only to find Yue Yang and Mingzhu deep in work on an entirely new category of puppet beast — not the constructs the original plan had called for.

This new creation also topped out at gold tier.

And there wasn’t just one.

Two massive golden spider constructs, similarly colored but distinct in form, scuttled across the ground, executing a string of commands from Yue Yang — crawling, halting, going still, leaping, accelerating, striking, dodging. The fluidity of their movement made Chimu’s mouth water on sight. These weren’t puppet beasts in any conventional sense — they moved with more agility than a genuine spider war beast, and unlike a living war beast, they would never betray their master.

The one thing Chimu couldn’t make sense of was the abdomen. Why was it so enormous?

Compared to an actual spider, the abdomen on these constructs was easily ten times larger than proportion would suggest.

If not for that oversized growth dragging behind it, the construct’s speed and striking power would both have nearly doubled.

In plain terms: this seemingly useless bulk was actively dragging down its own combat performance. Chimu might carry a streak of carefree foolishness, but he was still one of the Light Alliance’s Four Young Lords, and his intelligence — while not in the same league as Yue Yang’s or Mingzhu’s — comfortably outpaced people like Yangping or Jinji. If even he could spot the oddity in that abdomen, there was no chance Mingzhu had missed it. Whatever the monstrous Titan was doing with that design, it had to be deliberate.

Chimu held his tongue.

He didn’t even greet either of them, afraid of disrupting their testing.

He waited quietly, with surprising patience, until the test sequence concluded, then strode forward with a broad laugh.

“Before I share some genuinely earth-shattering news with you both — care to explain how this spider construct, which wasn’t even on the original plan, came to exist? And here I thought I was one of the three masterminds. Researching behind my back hardly seems in the spirit of partnership. Though, I suppose, if you give me one, I’ll generously consider forgiving the slight.” Chimu had decided he badly needed a second gold-tier construct in his collection — a man of his stature couldn’t be seen in public without one trailing him.

“You’re sure you want to know how it was made?” Something in Mingzhu’s eyes carried the unmistakable sentiment of your intellect couldn’t possibly follow the explanation.

“Mingzhu doesn’t care for spiders. This one’s yours,” Yue Yang said quickly, worried Chimu might spiral into despair over his own inadequacy, transferring ownership of the crimson-toned spider on the left over to him.

“Wow, wow — you’re a true friend, brother!” Chimu knew perfectly well the two spiders had been a joint creation between Yue Yang and Mingzhu, with no involvement from him whatsoever — but the moment he’d walked back in, Titan had handed one straight over, proof that neither of them had forgotten about him. Every benefit, shared equally — how could that not be moving?

“And what exactly did our esteemed third mastermind learn out there, while he was off shirking duties?” Mingzhu’s jab was barely concealed.

“Ha!” Chimu’s face reddened slightly, and he laughed it off. “As it happens, I do have genuinely earth-shattering news. Ji Wuri — the Sky Capital Prince, the one everyone calls nearly divine — took his Vengeful Prince and a construct army two days ago and wiped out the Crow Bandits of Clamoring Valley. He’s now preparing to march on the City of Sin behind it. He’s issued a formal call to arms across the entire younger generation of Human Valley — a righteous crusade against evil, supposedly. Word is half the clans and powers have already responded, including Jinji of Gold Leaf City and Yangping of Flame Sun City—”

“Marching on the City of Sin? Ridiculous.” Mingzhu clearly held little faith in the venture’s success.

“Is that the same City of Sin that even Heaven Defier, the rebel army’s leader, couldn’t conquer?” Yue Yang’s brow drew down slightly.

He’d only recently arrived in Human Valley, but he’d already heard the name in passing. The City of Sin had once been called White Water City — famed, by reputation, as a city of song and dance and renowned beauty.

For generations, White Water City’s lords had governed with benevolence and earned deep loyalty from their people, making it one of the most beloved cities in all of Human Valley. Tens of thousands of years ago, it had been a flourishing land, rich with talent — geniuses as numerous as stars in the night sky.

Then something genuinely impossible happened.

The reigning city lord went mad. He murdered his own beloved wife. He murdered his own son. He slaughtered every loyal retainer who’d served him faithfully. Then, before the eyes of the entire population, he climbed to the top of his castle and set himself ablaze, burning alive in full public view.

That alone would have been horror enough. What followed was worse: the wife, the son, and every retainer he’d butchered came back to life. By day, they appeared entirely human — the lady of the city, her son, the returned retainers — indistinguishable from anyone else.

But at night, every one of these resurrected figures transformed into something else: a horrifying skeletal puppet construct.

The city lord’s widow and her son took control of White Water City and, for a long stretch of time, successfully concealed the secret from the general population. Anyone who discovered the truth about the nightly transformations was hunted down without mercy.

Eventually, the truth could no longer be contained. The widow and the young lord declared White Water City’s secession from Human Valley entirely.

The army that turned into skeletal constructs by night began launching attacks against the city’s own population.

Aside from a small handful who managed to flee, a hundred thousand civilians died in the resulting massacre.

The strangest part: every victim was absorbed into the same fate. Human by day. Skeletal puppet construct by night, rising again each evening to join the breakaway faction that had renounced Human Valley entirely. Various powers across Human Valley had launched campaigns against the city repeatedly, but between terrain, timing, and a dozen other complicating factors, no campaign — however successful in the moment — had ever managed to fully eradicate it.

Every assault had come at significant cost.

So the City of Sin shifted strategy: from treating every human as an enemy, to selective cooperation. They opened their gates to rebels at war with Human Valley, to bandits, to fugitives and criminals of every stripe, openly welcoming any vicious outcast willing to settle there. Even mercenaries with poor reputations weren’t turned away.

Over time, the City of Sin’s strength grew into something no power in Human Valley could comfortably dismiss.

Heaven Defier, leader of the rebel army, had repeatedly attempted to absorb the territory into his own holdings, only to find it beyond his reach — eventually settling for cooperation instead.

A man who had commanded the rebel army for thousands of years, who possessed extraordinary strength and a deeply entrenched power base, couldn’t manage to bring down the City of Sin. Did Mingzhu genuinely believe Ji Wuri — barely half a year into Human Valley — could pull it off? He found the premise laughable. No one should mistake this for genuine military strategy; Ji Wuri’s real goal was obvious enough — building a glowing reputation and gathering a corps of hot-headed young idealists to serve as his future power base.

“Whether Ji Wuri can actually take the City of Sin, I won’t speculate. But I can guarantee you this — plenty of people drunk on a sense of righteous purpose will throw themselves at his service without a second thought. Say what you will, but barring some unforeseen disaster, this year’s Warrior’s Decree is as good as his already.” Chimu laughed.

“That’s a genuinely clever move,” Yue Yang admitted. Ji Wuri wasn’t merely a talented showman — his near-divine standing hadn’t been built on bluster alone.

“Even a lazy man like me felt something stir hearing about it. Half tempted to go watch it unfold myself.” Chimu paused, then added with a grin, “Before long, I’d guess Young Lord Yangquan and Young Lord Zhaohui will both sign on. Might even send letters trying to recruit the two of us…”

“I have no interest whatsoever in that nonsense,” Mingzhu said flatly, shutting the idea down without hesitation.

“Different philosophy or not, outsiders see us as the Light Alliance’s Four Young Lords as a unit. If we refuse too bluntly, people might start whispering about cowardice, and that reflects badly on our families. My suggestion: keep our language vague, agree in principle, but signal we don’t recognize Ji Wuri as our commander, and maybe stir a bit of discord in the ranks while we’re at it. There’s no shortage of ambitious people unwilling to take orders from someone else — might as well let them serve as our convenient excuse. And honestly, even if we technically join the young army, there’s no chance they mobilize immediately. Going along just for the spectacle wouldn’t be the worst use of time.” When Chimu turned serious, he was a fully competent Dusk Young Lord — not just the reckless, arrogant young noble he often appeared to be.

“Whatever. I can’t be bothered with any of it. You handle the diplomatic end.” Mingzhu’s priority, as far as he was concerned, was getting Yue Yang through the newcomer championship first.

“Fine — you two keep researching, then. I’ll head out.” Chimu had already known Mingzhu’s answer before asking; the report-back had simply been a courtesy.

He mounted his golden lion, ready to leave.

Then turned back.

He pointed at the spider with the absurdly large abdomen and asked Yue Yang directly: “Almost forgot to ask — what’s the purpose of that enormous belly? Stored venom? Something it sprays, or some other function?” He couldn’t imagine a design choice that dramatic being some kind of accident. There had to be a reason.

Yue Yang didn’t answer in words. He simply tossed a small, round metal sphere into Chimu’s hands.

The instant it landed in his grip, eight legs unfolded from the sphere.

It clamped onto Chimu’s wrist with the same predatory grip a hunting spider would use, its underside splitting open to reveal a pair of venom-dripping fangs that immediately lunged at his forearm. Chimu, thoroughly terrified, flung the thing away on reflex. The spider-shaped sphere struck the ground hard — its compound eyes flickered briefly, and it detonated in a thunderous explosion that caught Chimu, still too slow to fully clear the blast radius, leaving his robes shredded, his face streaked black, smoke curling from his singed hair. Had he not thrown it free in time, the outcome would have been considerably worse.

“This — this thing — it explodes?” Chimu nearly lost control of his bladder on the spot, the thought of what would have happened to his arm if he’d reacted half a second slower still vivid in his mind.

“Spider bomb construct,” Yue Yang explained, smiling pleasantly. “That mother spider’s belly is packed with these little ones.”

“Merciful heavens.” Chimu sucked in a sharp breath.

A swarm of these things released en masse, transformed into spider bombs, surrounding an enemy in every direction — he didn’t need to imagine the outcome to know it would be devastating. Titan’s invention was genuinely vicious. This wasn’t a weapon designed to wound. It was designed to wipe people out entirely. And the most chilling part: this design seemed purpose-built against puppet beasts and war constructs specifically. A trained warrior reacted fast enough that landing a spider bomb on them would be difficult unless they were caught completely off-guard — but puppet beasts had no minds of their own. They didn’t dodge. They didn’t retreat strategically. They lacked the flexibility to evade. Once one of these things latched on, the construct would simply absorb the blast helplessly.

At this rate, Titan looked fully capable of single-handedly wiping out every puppet construct in Human Valley.

Chimu broke into a cold sweat just thinking about it.

A chill crawled down his spine, his whole body crawling with the sensation of a thousand worms moving beneath his skin.

Mingzhu, however, wasn’t satisfied with the result. “The grip strength across those eight legs is too weak — needs correcting, or a target will easily shake it off. The latching and biting sequence is also slightly delayed; it’s not synchronized properly, otherwise Xiaomu wouldn’t have been able to break free at all. And the explosive yield is still insufficient — increase it tenfold and it might actually be worth something.”

“I nearly got blown up by you two and you’re still not satisfied? Does it only count as a success if it actually kills me?” Chimu couldn’t hold back the complaint.

“Relax. It wouldn’t have killed you. Even if you’d been too foolish to react in time, I could have remotely shut down the spider bomb before detonation.” Mingzhu’s tone made it clear he held Chimu’s value as a test subject in particularly low regard — apparently he hadn’t even been a satisfactory guinea pig.

Chimu nearly burst into tears on the spot.

So I’m a little less sharp than you two — does that really earn this kind of treatment?

I’m one of the three masterminds too, you know. Not even a heads-up before testing live explosives on me?

Wait — actually, no. If he genuinely contributed nothing to the research, that would be embarrassing to explain later. But now that he’d participated in testing — even as the unwitting test dummy at the tail end — he’d technically contributed his share of the effort. This spider bomb construct could now legitimately carry his name into the history books: On such-and-such a date, Dusk Young Lord, in an act of selfless sacrifice, offered himself up to Titan and Mingzhu’s hazardous experiment, and it was through his heroic contribution that the spider bomb construct came into being…

The moment that reframing occurred to him, his mood improved dramatically.

He quickly swapped his expression for a beaming grin and turned back to Yue Yang and Mingzhu. “This spider bomb construct is genuinely unprecedented! We’ve created an entirely new category of construct and made history in the process — incredible, the three of us truly are unstoppable! Actually, I should head out personally — go register this in Silver Maple City, get it formally certified at the War God statue! Don’t worry about anything out there, I’ll handle it completely. I won’t let anything disturb your research. You two go on working in peace — I won’t intrude on your little world for two any longer!”

The thought of the construction guild’s reception ladies in Silver Maple City, seeing this unprecedented new construct and dissolving into fervent, ecstatic shrieks of admiration, sent a wave of pure satisfaction through him.

Excellent. Pairing up Titan and Mingzhu was clearly the right call.

You two keep researching at your own pace — I’ll go let the girls scream their approval.

Silver Maple City’s beauties, please — try not to worship me too much.

“How did I end up with a cousin like this?” Mingzhu covered his face with one hand and sighed, genuinely embarrassed to claim the relation.

“I don’t see the problem, personally,” Yue Yang offered. “Having a cousin like that seems fine to me — assuming, of course, he happens to have an equally lovely cousin on the other side.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Mingzhu’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Worst case, you could just put on a dress yourself. I’d settle for it, frankly—” Yue Yang didn’t get to finish the sentence before the golden hammer launched him through the air. Mingzhu’s fury reached entirely new heights — being asked to wear women’s clothing was bad enough, but being told he’d merely be settled for?

Settle for THIS, you absolute disaster!

(End of Chapter)