The trash compaction station.
As Kane input the complex passcode once more, the vertical shaft leading underground groaned open before him and Crag.
What rushed out to meet them was no longer mere heat.
It was an aura of madness.
The screech of metal being cut to its limit, the hum of energy overload, and a strange, burgeoning "vitality" that radiated from life being forcibly catalyzed.
The interior of the workshop had transformed into a temple of insanity.
Kyrie Bowen looked like a true lunatic.
He was stripped to the waist, revealing lean, hardened muscle covered in old scars, wearing only a pair of oil-stained work pants.
His eyes were no longer just bloodshot; they had become two swirling vortices of burning flame.
Countless data streams and blueprints flickered, collided, and restructured themselves frantically on the holographic screens surrounding him.
"You're here!"
Kyrie didn't turn around, yet he sensed Kane’s arrival instantly.
His voice was hoarse and torn, but it carried the raw passion of a volcanic eruption.
"Get over here!"
He spun around violently, beckoning Kane with a gesture that bordered on assault.
The moment Crag’s massive frame entered the workshop, he felt a pressure rooted in pure instinct. He stopped at the entrance, refusing to go any further.
Kane walked alone to the central workbench.
There, resting in silence, was a pair of "legs."
They were not the heavy, clunky exoskeletons of traditional design.
Quite the opposite.
They were incredibly sleek, utterly elegant, and possessed a heart-stopping biological beauty.
The entire frame was a deep, matte black, perfectly mimicking the muscular contours of human legs. From the thigh to the ankle, every curve was pregnant with imminent, explosive power.
Through the translucent composite shell, the internal structure was clearly visible.
That living sinew from the Phase-Rat King was flickering with faint blue electric arcs.
Like a captive silver lightning dragon, it had been perfectly installed onto the core drive shaft.
Countless silver neural filaments, thinner than human hair, extended from the King's Sinew, weaving densely through the entire power leg before converging at the neural interface above the thigh.
They were breathing.
Kane could feel it—these legs were alive.
"I call them The Predator," Kyrie said, his voice carrying the pathological pride unique to a creator.
"It's not just a piece of equipment; it's a new organ!"
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"I didn't use a traditional energy cell to drive it. That's too slow, too stupid!"
He pointed at the King's Sinew, his gaze twisted with fanaticism.
"I preserved all of its bio-electric activity! Through neural bridging, it will become a part of your body! Your every thought, every muscular impulse, will be instantaneously amplified a hundredfold by it!"
"Put them on!" Kyrie urged impatiently. "Don't just stand there like a block of wood!"
Kane didn't waste words.
He stripped off his trousers, revealing his own legs—scarred, yet defined by sharp muscle.
As he slid his legs into The Predator, a freezing metallic sensation washed over him.
Click! Click!
With two sharp snaps, the power legs sealed perfectly against his body, leaving not a single gap.
Then came the critical step.
From the neural interface at the top of the thighs, dozens of micro-probes flickering with eerie blue light extended outward.
"It's going to hurt a bit."
Kyrie grinned, revealing teeth yellowed by tobacco.
The next second.
Sss—
The probes ruthlessly pierced into the nerve clusters at the base of Kane's spine.
An indescribable agony, mixed with a tsunami of bio-electric current, slammed into his central nervous system!
Kane’s body arched violently. Every muscle in his frame tensed to the breaking point, and the veins on his temples bulged and throbbed.
His consciousness was ripped into fragments by the wash of savage electricity.
He felt his nervous system being forcibly invaded and seized by a stronger, more primal will!
The leaping instinct of the Phase-Rat King surged along the neural filaments, clashing violently with his own resolve.
"Control it!!"
Kyrie’s roar exploded in his ears.
"Use your will to tell it who the master is!!"
Kane gritted his teeth so hard his gums bled, the copper taste of blood filling his mouth.
In the depths of extreme agony, a terrifying, murderous glint ignited in his eyes.
You want to control me?
You’re nothing but my trophy!
His willpower became a countercurrent in his mental world, slamming ruthlessly into that savage biological instinct!
Hum—
The blue electric arcs within the power legs suddenly stuttered.
Then, they became submissive, compliant—utterly defeated.
The nerve-shredding pain instantly transformed into an absolute sense of mastery, as if the machinery had fused with his very flesh.
Kane slowly straightened his back.
He could clearly feel that his original legs were gone. In their place were two torrents of energy containing horrific explosive power.
With a single thought, the matte black surface of The Predator flowed like a living thing, shifting rapidly until it perfectly replicated the color and texture of his original skin.
He pulled on his trousers. From the outside, there was no longer anything unusual.
"Going outside," Kane rasped, his voice sandpapery.
He walked out of the workshop step by step. Crag watched him, his eyes wide with astonishment.
Every one of Kane’s steps was as light as if he had no weight, yet each movement carried a latent, landslide-like power.
The Metal Graveyard.
Kane stood in a clearing surrounded by piles of scrapped parts.
He bent his knees slightly.
A single thought.
He didn't even exert conscious force; he simply held the intent to "jump."
BOOM!
The ground beneath him instantly shattered into a spiderweb of shallow craters!
Kane’s body launched into the sky like a cannonball!
The wind shrieked in his ears!
The ground shrank rapidly in his vision!
Crag and Kyrie instantly became two tiny black specks.
Ten meters!
Twenty meters!
Thirty meters!
He was still ascending!
The height of this single jump broke thirty meters, already surpassing his previous limit with [ Aerial Step ]!
And this was only the first stage!
The moment his upward momentum reached its zenith, Kane’s mind flickered again.
[ Aerial Step ]!
If the first jump was a shell leaving a cannon, then this second jump was the secondary ignition of a missile!
BOOM—!!!
A force several times more violent than before detonated beneath his feet!
The air itself was trampled, letting out a heavy sonic pop!
His body didn't continue upward; instead, it pulled a terrifying ninety-degree trajectory change in mid-air. He turned into a bolt of black lightning, shooting toward the distance!
Speed!
Absolute speed!
The scenery on either side blurred into streaks of color. The gale even caused his Basilisk Stone Armor to let out a strained groan!
Fifty meters!
Seventy meters!
One hundred meters!
He crossed the entire Metal Graveyard, finally landing delicately atop an abandoned signal tower nearly a hundred meters away.
He dropped to one knee, steadying his frame.
The entire process was silent.
He looked back toward the entrance of the trash compaction station a hundred meters away, now barely visible.
Crag stood there with his head tilted back, his massive body frozen in place, completely petrified.
Kyrie, however, wore an expression of satisfaction, like a proud, twisted father.
Kane slowly stood up, perched at the peak of the signal tower, overlooking the vast and ruined wasteland beneath his feet.
Cold killing intent slowly solidified in his heart, clear and unwavering.
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