The transformation of the Iron Blood Sect was ugly. It sounded like grinding gears and smelled like ozone and sulfur.
Three days had passed. The main courtyard, once a place for elegant sparring, was now Floor Zero. Makeshift conveyor belts made of wood and leather (powered by a groaning, enslaved Elder spinning a wheel in the basement) transported raw iron to the furnaces.
Lin Fan stood on the balcony, watching the chaos. He held a clipboard—not a system interface, but actual paper.
"Yield is down 14%," he muttered. "The outer disciples are hesitating before the mold cools. They're afraid of the fire."
"They're afraid of you," a voice came from the shadows behind him.
Su Mei leaned against a pillar, sharpening her daggers. She wasn't wearing her Shadow Pavilion uniform anymore. She wore a modified combat suit Lin Fan had sketched out—tighter, with more pockets for ammo and gadgets.
Lin Fan didn't turn around. "Fear is a motivator, but it causes tremors in the hands. Tremors ruin precision engineering. I need to adjust the incentive structure."
"Is that all we are?" Su Mei asked, her tone uncharacteristically sharp. "Structures? Variables? You enslaved an entire sect, Lin Fan. You have a Golden Core master screaming in your furnace. And you're worried about mold cooling times."
Lin Fan finally turned. He looked at Su Mei. [Seal 2: Sovereign's Blueprint] flickered in his eyes.
He saw her stats. [Name: Su Mei] [Class: Assassin] [Loyalty: 65 (Wary)] [Status: Fatigue / Doubt]
"Why are you here, Su Mei?" Lin Fan asked. "You could have taken your share of the loot from the Tower and vanished. The Shadow Pavilion would welcome a survivor with your experience."
Su Mei paused. She looked at the dagger in her hand—a Spirit Artifact she had stolen from a dead prince on Floor 9.
" The Shadow Pavilion..." she started, her voice distant. "They take orphans. They put us in a jar like poisonous insects and wait to see who survives. I killed my first room-mate when I was six because there was only one bun."
She looked up at Lin Fan. "They taught me that I am a tool. A tool has no will. It just cuts where the master points. If the tool breaks, they buy a new one."
"And here?" Lin Fan asked.
"Here, you are a monster," Su Mei admitted bluntly. "But you don't treat me like a tool. You treat me like an... investment."
"Asset," Lin Fan corrected. "A Premium Asset."
"Right," Su Mei huffed, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "In the Pavilion, if I failed a mission, I died. With you... if I fail, you just come up with a darker, cheat-code plan to fix it. It's terrifying, Lin Fan. But it's the first time in my life I don't feel like I'm walking on a tightrope."
"Security," Lin Fan nodded. "A valid commodity. As long as you remain useful, Su Mei, I will never let you 'break'. My inventory is for hoarding, not discarding."
The heavy wooden doors of the hall slammed open.
Fatty Wu stumbled in, carrying a ledger that was nearly as wide as he was. He looked exhausted, his silk robes stained with soot.
"Boss! We have a problem!" Wu wheezed, collapsing onto a chair.
"If it's about the food, eat less," Lin Fan said.
"It's not the food! It's the supply chain!" Fatty Wu slammed the ledger on the table. "We're out of High-Grade Iron. The mines in the back mountain are depleted. We need to buy from the outside."
Lin Fan frowned. "So buy it. You have the funds I won at the Casino."
"It's not about money!" Wu whined, his hands trembling. "To buy that much iron, I have to go to Blackwater City. My... my family runs the trade guild there."
Lin Fan raised an eyebrow. "The Wu Clan?"
Fatty Wu shrank back. "They kicked me out, Boss. They said my Spirit Root was trash. They said a merchant who relies on 'Luck' is a gambler, not a businessman. If I go back there... my brothers will skin me alive. They'll take your money and send my head back in a box."
Lin Fan stared at the fat merchant.
[Name: Wu Jin (Fatty)] [Trait: Heaven's Favorite (+50 Luck)] [Background: Disowned Scion of the Wu Merchant Clan] [Desire: Recognition / Revenge]
Lin Fan walked over to the table. He picked up the Desert Eagle and placed it on top of the ledger.
"Wu," Lin Fan said softly.
"Y-yes, Boss?"
"Do you know why I keep you around?"
"Because I'm a Luck Battery?" Wu offered meekly.
"That's part of it. But Luck is passive. I need you to be active." Lin Fan leaned in. "Your family rejected you because you couldn't cultivate. They value traditional strength. But we are changing the currency of this world."
Lin Fan tapped the gun.
"Su Mei will go with you as bodyguards. I will give you a crate of the prototype muskets we just finished."
Wu's eyes went wide. "You want me to sell them?"
"No," Lin Fan grinned. "I want you to use them. Go to Blackwater City. Buy the iron. If your brothers try to stop you... show them that a fat man with a gun is more dangerous than a genius with a sword."
Wu swallowed hard. He looked at the gun, then at Lin Fan. For the first time, the fear in his eyes wasn't directed at Lin Fan. It was a spark of something else. Ambition.
"I... I can take the North Warehouse," Wu muttered, doing the mental math. "If Su Mei takes out the guards, I can leverage the iron price... I could bankrupt my Second Brother in an afternoon."
"That's the spirit," Lin Fan said. "Go. Get me my iron. And Wu?"
"Yeah?"
"If you die, I'll be very annoyed. It's hard to find a Luck stat that high."
Wu managed a shaky laugh. "I won't let you down, Boss."
As Wu and Su Mei left to prepare for the trip, Lin Fan turned back to the balcony.
He was alone again. He preferred it. People were messy variables. But these two... they were becoming calibrated instruments.
He looked down at his hand. The Sovereign's Blueprint was pulsing.
Objective: Secure Raw Materials. Sub-Objective: Establish Dominance in the Local Market.
"Phase 1 is almost complete," Lin Fan whispered to the smoke-filled air. "Now, let's see if the world is ready to bleed."