Chapter 00224: Rebirth of a Servant in the Abyss
# Rebirth of a Servant in the Abyss
Chapter 224
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 224: Rebirth of a Servant in the Abyss
“It is said it was sent over from the south.”
“He’s still alive? Truly lucky indeed.”
“They say he’s been hiding in the crevices, managing to survive, but the master has died; he’s crippled himself, and ignoring him means death is not far off.”
“Is it worth wasting so much medicine on such a waste?”
“Doesn’t he still have hands? There’s a shortage of labor everywhere. Even the useless have their uses, or else how could he be assigned here?”
“Shh, lower your voice… that fellow is looking over here!”
“What’s there to fear? Look, he’s even smiling at us.”
...
In the sweltering heat, a constant rumble filled the air.
Ji Jue grinned foolishly at the two apprentices, but unfortunately, his once handsome and approachable face was marred by burns, now twisted and hideous, with scars torn apart, seeping crimson blood.
This sight stung the eyes of those nearby.
The hushed whispers abruptly ceased.
How strange, being ugly brings such benefits; he had experienced it firsthand.
Ji Jue withdrew his gaze, leaning on a crutch, awkwardly pushing himself forward, trying to hasten his pace.
The middle-aged man leading the way noticed the increased rhythm of Ji Jue's knocking; he glanced back and slightly slowed his speed.
Seeing Ji Jue forcing a smile, he sighed and said, “Most people who come here are like this. Just a little more chatter, and everyone will get familiar.”
Ji Jue nodded, revealing a smile that fit his role.
It was a smile tinged with desperation and an undercurrent of flattery.
The middle-aged man, Sun Ci, returned his gaze, showing no reaction as if he had grown accustomed to the sight of weakness and degradation.
Inside the enormous workshop that resembled a factory, they were at the very bottom, suffocated by heat and humidity, where the air was perpetually thick with acrid odors; faint coughing broke the monotonous thumping of hammers.
Each section operated tirelessly throughout the night; countless artisans guarded their stations, laboring without rest.
For the apprentice laborers, there was no thought of slacking off or sleeping; each face was pallid, and bloodshot eyes reflected their exhaustion.
Sun Ci, a small manager among the apprentice laborers, was Ji Jue's immediate overseer, one of the leaders in his tier.
“Here, look at how miserable you are; start by doing these,” he pointed to an empty spot.
The chair still bore dried bloodstains, and the workstation was piled high with scraps. “Finish this by today.”
With that, he turned and left.
At almost any moment, a torrent of waste rolled down from the passage in the corner.
It came down continuously, as if flowing like water.
The work of those at the bottom tier was to sort through the waste, extracting anything salvageable as quickly as possible for recycling.
No one remarked on what would happen if the task wasn’t finished, but each person worked with all their strength, fearing the consequences would not be gentle.
In the association, if the workload was too great, at least one could cry.
But here, even crying was a waste of time.
“Oh, destiny, what have you done…”
Sitting in this spot, Ji Jue looked around at the chaos and bustle, and suddenly felt a wave of disorientation—he had once been in the recycling division of the association, trying hard to infiltrate the enemy's ranks as an undercover agent, now he was desperately working on waste!
Isn’t this a bit of a waste of a fortunate resurrection?
Despite the grumbling in his heart, his hands moved deftly, quickly beginning to sort the scraps.
Nearby, Sun Ci glanced over and saw Ji Jue working skillfully; he nodded slightly and withdrew his gaze, feeling a little relieved—looks like they could afford to take a shorter shift today.
Among the six teams on this level, their group was perpetually understaffed, yet the workload remained the same; they endured more suffering and faced numerous hardships, often without recognition.
Meanwhile, Ji Jue quietly observed the work processes of others through the mirror-like reflection of scrap metal... mainly noting the efficiency, ensuring he didn’t inadvertently push the production too far.
Things turned out better than expected; the efficiency here was significantly higher than in the recycling department of the association.
The main reason was that no one needed to wear protective gear; many steps were skipped.
The association was still cautious about human rights, but the artisans in the Abyss didn’t have such a tradition of caring for their tools.
What perplexed Ji Jue was that—discarding protective steps, the efficiency wasn’t far off from the association's recycling department? What’s the point of revering filth, was it a bit of wasted reverence?
Regardless of whether it was the association or the Abyss, the pursuits of artisans and masters might differ, but the laborers were always just laborers.
Thus, from the initial clumsiness to getting the hang of it and finally adapting completely, it had taken a full three to four hours, and no one, including Ji Jue, had so much as paused.
His previously anxious heart finally settled.
Blending into the environment.
The task of infiltrating the corrupt cult wasn’t as difficult as imagined; there was little specialized questioning for him, the sole survivor.
The security bureau was launching an all-out attack; everyone was too busy to have the time for tedious confirmations back and forth.
There were records of him in the central bank and verification of his soul quality; he was identified as a corruptor, still dressed in the apprentice uniform of the Abyss artisans, and that was mostly sufficient.
After checking the ethereal records, reviewing surface memories and finding nothing noteworthy or revealing, they rudely administered a few treatments and then sent him back in to work.
As long as he could continue tofunction, they would let him.
If he couldn’t, then he would simply become material.
As long as they confirmed he could survive and move, that was it; the question of any lingering side effects… they didn’t need to think too much, as they were all already in this together.
The good news was that pretending to be an apprentice made it easy to slip in.
The bad news was that even if he got in, he was still a plain, unadulterated apprentice, undoubtedly just a lowly laborer.
And judging by the situation, it seemed that he was expected to work from dawn to dusk like a nuclear-powered donkey.
Moreover, the working environment was no different from a sweatshop.
The toxic substances generated from extensive dismantling, the dust thick enough to prompt a crash course on silicosis, the ever-leaking filth from the waste… all combined with the twenty-four hours of high-intensity work and saturating workflows…
Even Ji Jue, who had been rolling with the punches, couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.
The association was just humanized; were the Abyss artisans completely inhumane?
One needed to understand that even Abyss artisans were still humans.
Their reverence for filth was to progress, not to be transformed into a chaotic mass of grotesque matter.
For those lacking talent, the path of righteousness seemed like an interminable journey, full of twists and excruciating trials, often leaving them unable to advance.
The gains from corruption appeared like a high-altitude zip line, slippery and dangerous.
One either soared quickly or plummeted, the thrill being the main attraction.
Despite various secret techniques and transformations enhancing resilience and reducing risks, a single misstep could lead to disaster.
The consideration of virtue or great corruption was a dilemma for the strong, while laborers typically had no choice.
The apprentices working here had all, in one way or another, begun to show signs of corruption.
The symptoms of corruption from the path of ember were the most direct—flesh becoming material, intellect fading.
Excessive internal pollution led to a loss of control over flesh and soul, exhibiting uncharacteristic signs.
Some appeared stiff and mask-like, limbs shriveled and constricted, resembling puppets, while others had fingers transformed into tools… even more alarmingly, some had altogether crossed over the line of humanity.
The distortion of soul and body was so severe that the person underwent grotesque changes amid the entanglement of pollution and blessings, losing all semblance of their previous self.
Much like the strange creation in the corner, a horrifying fusion of flesh and machinery.
In the wails, it repeatedly opened its mouth to swallow scraps, chewing, with blood splattering around.
Such scenes seemed commonplace here.
Everyone just walked around it numbly.
During the mindless work, Ji Jue's hand trembled, a drop of grease slipping through his fingers and landing beneath the table.
There, in a pool of thick grease accumulating, something suddenly stirred; a spider, the size of a pinky knuckle, crawled out from the tainted grease, silently creeping towards the shadows.
Then another one, and then more…
With a calm mind dividing focus, while dismantling the scraps, he deftly separated a part of the residue.
Between his fingers, an invisible furnace ignited, shaping the pure essence, the fluid alchemy granting form, and ultimately, the mechanical deity imbuing essence.
One oil spider after another was easily created.
As the oil spiders traversed back and forth, the intricate workshop, which had once resembled a labyrinth, gradually came into focus for Ji Jue.
Unfortunately, the entire underground was sealed by various secret techniques and essence circuits, leaving too much distance between him and any potential escape routes.
After all, a recycling department was just a garbage dump in disguise.
No one would wish to have the sewers backflow, nor would they want the laborers to discreetly climb over the barriers and escape.
Locked tight was better for everyone.
Except for the laborers.
“One hundred and fifty units?!”
As the oil spiders crawled through the ventilation ducts of the workshop, Ji Jue heard a familiar voice.
Just nearby the furnace, the cleanest and quietest spot in the entire underground workshop, there was a small partition, with two half-dead pothos plants embellishing the area.
In the office-like setting, a man seated in a chair chuckled and nodded.
“Supervisor, has there been a mistake?” Sun Ci was already sweating profusely, stammering, “Why has it suddenly doubled?”
“That was the order from above; what can I do?” the supervisor took a sip from his tea cup, smiling nonchalantly, “But you’ve been in last place for quite a while, haven’t you? How can you complain? Oh, Sun, you’re making this difficult for me.”
“But… but…”
“But what?!”
The supervisor raised his voice, suddenly changing his expression, “If you can do the work, do it! If not, get lost! Don’t just sit there taking up space; if you don’t do it, there are plenty ready to step in! Do you understand?”
“Understood, understood.”
Sun Ci dared not argue anymore and left in a fluster.
At the door, a young man with a bit of charm, observing him with a smirk, patted Sun Ci's shoulder, “Big Brother Sun, if you can’t do it, just resign early and let someone else take over.”
Sun Ci said nothing and kept his head down as he walked away.
The young man then entered the office; behind the closed door, muffled sounds of giggling and moaning could be heard.
“One hundred and fifty units?!”
When Sun Ci returned to the group and announced the news, nearly everyone lost their minds.
Noticing many resentful glances, he forced an awkward smile, “I…”
The apprentice with nearly bald hair glared, “If you don’t have the ability, don’t take on the task; why put on a show?”
“What are you saying?!” another apprentice exploded in anger, “Big Brother Sun has taken care of you before! Oh, you took advantage of him and now you’re pretending to be nice, right?”
“Living under someone else’s roof, what can you do? If he wants to assign his people for management, just let him. Why drag everybody into trouble, wearing so many hidden shoes?”
Sun Ci silently listened to the rebuttals, not interrupting.
After passing the message down, he wanted to encourage or promise something, but no one believed him anymore.
He gave a self-deprecating smile and sighed wearily.
If he could, he too would want to “resign and let others step up,” relinquishing this position, but he had no choice.
In recent months, his symptoms of materialization had grown increasingly prominent.
If he didn’t produce results soon, find an opportunity to transfer to another place, he might completely lose control.
To have him hand over this lifeline now was no different from killing him.
At last, Ji Jue, who had been slowly rising with the help of a crutch, stood beside him before he realized it.
“Manager Sun…”
“What management? Tomorrow, I won’t even be one.”
Sun Ci shook his head with self-mockery; if the metrics continued to be unmet, he was finished.
With today’s failure, he would likely be dismissed, “What is it? Do you want to switch groups too?”
“I…”
The newly arrived cripple hesitated for a moment, then whispered, “I might… have a solution…”
At that moment, Sun Ci froze.
He lifted his head and looked over.
(End of Chapter)