Magical Girl's Knight Brother

Chapter 530 Standoff

Leisen's imposing figure strode out of the shadows and headed straight for the half-closed iron gate that exuded an ominous aura.

He no longer tried to conceal the fierce aura that belonged to the wasteland legend. Every step he took carried a heavy sense of power, and the gravel and metal fragments under his feet crunched under his feet.

The two men at the door, dressed in greasy overalls with rough metal braces embedded in their arms, immediately tensed up, like hyenas whose tails had been stepped on. Their casual expressions were instantly replaced by vigilance.

They recognized Lei Senyi, or rather, they recognized the indelible smell of gunpowder and blood on him.

One of the shorter, stockier men, with an old laser scar running across half his face, instinctively gripped the rough handle of the welding torch tucked behind his waist.

Another tall, thin man with sinister eyes and exposed subcutaneous nerve amplification lines on his neck narrowed his eyes, his scarlet prosthetic eye locking onto Leisen's face and emitting an extremely faint focusing buzz.

However, the anticipated obstacles did not occur.

When Leisen was three steps away from the door, the short, stocky guard relaxed a little, though a forced smile appeared on his lips—not exactly welcoming, but certainly not entirely hostile either.

In his eye, which wasn't covered by the scar, gleamed an extremely complex and elusive light. "You are..."

"I'm here to see the old chimney."

Leisen's words were incredibly concise, his tone seemingly suppressing something. He knew very well that if you showed weakness in the face of these watchdogs, these scumbags would take advantage of you.

The red light in the tall, thin guard's prosthetic eye stabilized slightly, no longer in a state of alert, but more like a cold scan and confirmation.

His gloomy face remained expressionless; he simply stepped aside slightly, making way for the narrow passage leading into the doorway.

He didn't even ask any questions, but simply gave Leisen a deep, meaningful glance with his cold, electronic eyes. "You certainly chose a good time."

This unusual "smoothness" made the air even more viscous.

There was no commotion, no warnings, no body searches, only two silent and meaningful gazes.

Leisen's single eye, sharp as a knife in the shadow of his hood, accurately caught the strange "deep meaning" in the other's eyes.

Alarm bells rang in his mind.

In this wasteland where people devour each other without spitting out the bones, especially at the entrance to a venomous lair like "Old Chimney," an overly calm passage is itself the greatest danger signal, meaning that the other party either already knew he was coming, or...

Leisen did not pause in his steps, nor did he show the slightest fear.

He let out a low, rumbling snort, not bothering to inquire about his informant's location or what had transpired, but instead, with a sudden jerk of his shoulder, he almost brushed past the tall, thin guard, and swept through the half-open, heavy iron door. Clang!

The pungent smell of cheap tobacco, burning grease, and a faint hint of chemical stimulants mixed with the strong smell of engine oil hit Leisen like a tangible force, forcefully filling his nostrils.

The dim, flickering light of the oil lamp struggled to cut out blurry shadows in the thick smoke.

The scene behind the door came into Leisen's view.

It's more like a huge, abandoned industrial equipment repair shop turned into a nest.

Rusty metal supports, massive, scrapped gears, and tangled, snake-like pipes formed a chaotic backdrop. The ground was covered with thick layers of oil and unidentified stains. In the center of the space, a man leaned against a throne made of huge, old tires and covered with filthy animal hides. He was emaciated, like a piece of rotten wood dried by time, wrapped in a greasy, shiny leather coat.

His face was covered with crisscrossing scars, like the cracks of a dried-up riverbed, and his right eye had been replaced by a cheap, mechanical prosthetic eye that flickered with an unstable red light. Most striking was the pipe he was holding, made from the leg bone of an unknown animal, which was now slowly and almost greedily exhaling choking blue-gray smoke, making him seem as if he were shrouded in a poisonous miasma.

His one remaining, cloudy human eye was slightly narrowed, its murky gaze sweeping downwards like a venomous snake, carrying an extremely unsettling scrutiny.

But what made Leisen's muscles tense up and his pupils shrink instantly was not the old chimney himself.

Instead, it was three other people standing in the dim light.

They were out of place in this filthy environment.

Although they wore similarly practical, wasteland-dust-covered overalls, their posture, their gaze, and the sharp, honed edge that unconsciously emanated from them all indicated that they were no ordinary people.

The first person stood out. He was not particularly tall, but he was exceptionally lean and wiry. His left sleeve hung empty, replaced by a mechanical arm that gleamed with a cold, hard metallic luster and was covered with rough, non-slip texture.

He had a grotesque old scar that almost ran across his left cheek, and his eyes were sharp as a hawk's, filled with undisguised scrutiny and... a hint of surprise? When Leisen burst in, the scarred man's only remaining left eye snapped shut on him, and his brows furrowed instantly.

The other two, a man and a woman, were equally silent. The woman had an extremely short buzz cut, and intricate subcutaneous implanted tubing on her neck gleamed faintly with a blue light. The other man was taller, wearing fingerless combat gloves with clearly visible signs of modification and enhancement at his knuckles. The three of them formed a delicate triangle, subtly encircling the throne area where the old chimney stood, the atmosphere as heavy as a fully drawn bowstring.

These people didn't have obvious gang insignia, but Leisen was all too familiar with their iron-fisted and stoic aura—they were resistance fighters, and hardened individuals who had seen blood and experienced real battles.

The old chimney didn't seem surprised by Rayson's intrusion. He didn't even put down his pipe, but let out a hoarse, scoffing laugh from behind the thick smoke, like sandpaper scraping.

"Heh, look who's here. Isn't this the legendary scavenger, Mr. Rayson? A rare guest indeed. But you've come at a very inopportune time." His scarlet prosthetic eye flickered eerily in the smoke, sweeping meaningfully over the three opposing resistance fighters before finally settling on Rayson. "I'm currently entertaining some... old friends."

Rayson recognized the scarred man leading the resistance as Ironfist Hawk, a mid-level leader of the resistance listed on the inner city's wanted list, who had joined some alien resistance forces in his earlier years.

Hock stared intently at Leisen, his eyes sharp as knives, his voice low and carrying a hint of cold warning and displeasure. "Leisen? What are you doing here?"

He clearly knew Rayson and was very surprised and wary of running into him here.

To be honest, in this wasteland, almost everyone with a name knows Rayson. After all, he's the only one who has managed to escape from the AI-controlled prison in all these years.

That's why he's known as the "legendary scavenger".

At that moment, Leisen's heart was filled with shock. He quickly considered the current situation. Several rebel cadres had appeared on the territory of Snakehead Old Chimney. This was definitely not a simple visit.

But his face remained expressionless; his gaze merely swept coldly over Hawke and the other two before finally settling on the old chimney's face, hidden behind the smoke, his expression direct and carrying the characteristic bluntness and a hint of threat of a wastelander.

"Enough nonsense, I'm here for three fast boat tickets to 'the South,' name your price."

Upon hearing this, the old chimney did not answer immediately, but slowly took a puff of smoke, the smoke swirling upwards.

His gaze darted back and forth between Leisen and Hawke, his cloudy eyes gleaming with calculating cunning.

"Ticket prices? No problem," the old chimney said, his voice drawn out with a slick tone. "But now, things are a bit complicated. Brother Hawke and his crew have a 'big deal' they want to talk to me about."

He casually tapped Hawke with the stem of his bone pipe. "Overthrow those high and mighty iron lumps and charlatans, Lord Omnic and the Church of the Ages...tsk tsk, quite the ambition."

His tone made it impossible to tell whether it was praise or sarcasm.

Hawke stepped forward, and the cold mechanical arm instinctively clenched into a fist, emitting a slight metallic scraping sound.

He looked at the old chimney. "We're not talking business with you; we're giving you an opportunity. The omnics have drained every living being on Earth, and the Church has numbed people with lies. How long can you keep making your meager fortune here? Cooperate with us, open up the underground tunnel network you control, and after it's done, you'll have absolute control over the transportation hubs under the new order!"

"Opportunity? Heh heh." The old chimney let out a series of low, grating laughs, like a broken bellows pumping.

He could tell that Hawke's first few sentences were empty words, and there was no need to repeat things that everyone already knew. However, he could hear that Hawke's attitude had softened slightly in the last sentence.

"Brother Hawke, the pie in your mouth looks very tempting, but it's a pie in the sky. If it falls down, it will kill someone."

"You know better than I how troublesome the Purifier squad of the Church of the Ages is, and you also know better than I how much firepower the Omnic patrols have. I'm an old man, and I want to smoke a few more cigarettes."

He slowly and deliberately stroked the greasy leather jacket with his good hand.

"Moreover, Brother Leisen has come with genuine sincerity." He emphasized the word "sincerity," clearly intending to raise the price.

"You need to understand, this is not the time to talk business. Before we begin, we need to eliminate any entities that could potentially disrupt our plans."

Hawke's eyes instantly turned extremely dangerous, and the buzz-cut woman and burly man behind him tensed up, their hands reaching for the outline of the weapon hidden under their work clothes.

"Old smoker... You're definitely on this team today."