Not long after, Ning Lu found an abandoned sewage tunnel on the outskirts of Tetzvok, hidden among the mountains of trash.
Hives always grow from the bottom up. When humans first settle a planet, they start by building communities on the surface. Over time, these expand upwards through the centuries.
Because of population shifts and urban sprawl, most of the infrastructure in the lower hives ends up abandoned.
He crawled into the tunnel, walking through sludge formed from industrial wastewater.
The tunnel was about five people wide. After walking a kilometer, Ning Lu's ears twitched—sound waves painted a scene in his mind: hundreds of people fighting.
He moved forward several hundred meters more. Now he picked up the sound of a chase—one person fleeing, another pursuing.
A scream cut through the air. The one running collapsed. Then, another scream—the one chasing fell too.
Ning Lu paused, listening carefully. Besides those two, he heard no other movement. Strange—how did both end up down?
Soon, he arrived at the scene. Both people were already dead, lying in the filthy water.
Even in the dim light, he clearly saw the bizarre state of their feet—shoes torn, soles shredded and bloody, crisscrossed with hundreds of tiny wounds.
He scanned the area and quickly spotted something in the murky sewage—a glint of clustered crystals in the corner.
[Not a creature. Spirecrystals.]
Ning Lu knew what they were. Spirecrystals grew in the waste pools and drainage tunnels of the hive cities, especially in areas where generations of pollutants had built up. They weren't quite plants—more like mineral growths, resembling coral made of sharp, brittle crystal clusters.
Anyone unlucky enough to fall into one quickly learned how nasty they were. Their razor-sharp spines could leave thousands of tiny, burning cuts.
But the real danger wasn't the cuts. It was the toxins and corrosive chemicals that coated the crystals. Once in a wound, even the tiniest scratch could rot and fester without treatment—and most people in the lower hives didn't have any medicine.
Stepping on one usually meant your miserable life was about to end even faster.
[Didn't expect to find a crafting material this soon.]
He crouched down and searched the sewage, quickly finding two intact clusters.
He pulled out a spare set of clothes from his backpack, wrapping each Spirecrystal—one in the shirt, one in the pants—and stashed them away.
In a good mood, Ning Lu moved on. Several tunnels converged ahead, leading to a platform.
There, two gangs were fighting around a forge. They were shooting at each other with makeshift laser guns built from scrap.
On the left side of the platform, the leader of the red-headband gang dropped an enemy with his laser pistol, then dove for cover. His eyes suddenly lit up.
He saw a boy—clearly not from the lower hive—standing nearby. Even in rags, the kid's handsome features stood out. He was probably worth more than that whole forge.
The man rushed at Ning Lu, reaching for him.
"Come here, brat!"
Ning Lu sidestepped. The gang leader grabbed empty air—and before he could recover, the boy caught his wrist, yanked him forward, and drove a silver-gray shard into his gut.
From the corpse, Ning Lu took five energy cells and stuffed them into the many patched-together pockets of his clothes. Mutants often sewed dozens of mismatched fabric pockets onto their outfits to carry "treasures" they found.
He picked up the man's laser pistol, a rough weapon built from various junk parts. As soon as he held it, he checked the energy cell with practiced hands.
[Vostroya's gangs make better gear than most planets. This scrap-built laser pistol is above average—can fire 23 times total. 17 shots left.]
Ning Lu raised his voice and shouted, "Stop!"
Despite being just a boy, his voice carried no trace of youth—only cold authority.
The two gangs froze. The command felt like the icy bark of a hive arbitrator—one of those rare enforcers who descended into the lower depths.
Their heads snapped toward him, eyes wide.
On the right side of the platform, the opposing gang leader peeked out and spat.
"When did a punk like you get to—"
He didn't finish.
A beam of light pierced straight between his eyes, and he dropped dead.
Everyone gasped. The boy had shot him from over thirty meters away—far beyond the range of any junk-built laser pistol—and hit a kill shot. Impossible.
On the left side, a few sharp-eyed gang members noticed the boy was holding their own leader's gun—and their boss's body lay at the tunnel entrance.
"Our boss is dead!"
The shout snapped the gang members to attention. Several pairs of eyes gleamed—they were all captains or lieutenants, and now that the boss was gone, it was a chance to move up.
They instantly turned their guns on each other, opening fire to fight for control.
As for the boy? Powerful or not, he was just a kid. Once one of them took charge, they could gang up and catch him.
Ning Lu was ready to dodge, but realized with some amusement—they were even dumber than he thought.
He moved fast. Since they'd stumbled into his path, they'd become his first crew in conquering Vostroya. Time to show them who's in charge.
"I said… stop."
He spoke calmly, then fired three quick shots, killing three men from the left gang. Two more were gunned down in the crossfire.
He then took out the winner from the right-side gang.
Ning Lu looked over the rest.
"From now on, I'm your boss. Disobey me, and you'll end up like them."
The gang members were frozen in shock. Not one dared move. They'd never seen marksmanship like that—every shot a kill, fired without hesitation. They'd only ever heard of that kind of skill in stories.
And so, on his first day in Vostroya, Ning Lu formed his own gang—310 members strong.
He dumped the fungus he carried into a huge vat. Every gang member stared with glowing green eyes. If not for fear of his deadly aim, they would've swarmed him like starving wolves.
Ning Lu stood atop the platform, looking down. Knowing the lower hive folk had little education, he kept it simple.
"I treat my people right—but I don't carry dead weight."
"What you get depends on what you can do."
"Soup or scraps—it's up to you."
He scanned the crowd. Most were craning their necks and staring at his feet in awe. Only a few still scratched their heads, confused.
"I've got questions. Answer right, and you get soup."
"First question. Where can I find giant rats—at least a meter long?"
The better the material, the stronger the potion.
Ning Lu wasn't afraid they'd figure out his alchemy recipes. He only needed two ingredients.
"Me!" the fastest to react was a skinny bald guy. "Boss, there's giant rats all over! Plenty of 'em over a meter. I can't give you numbers, but every tunnel and pipe's crawling with 'em!"
Ning Lu looked over the others. No one contradicted him—just regret and frustration on their faces.
"Good. You can come up and scoop the first ladle."
The bald man bolted forward, tripping once on the way up. He caught himself with one hand, scrambled upright, and—like he feared the boss would change his mind—scooped a full spoon in a flash.
The smell hit him and he immediately crouched down to slurp the broth.
The rest watched with envy, ears perked, waiting for the next question.
"Second question. Who knows where to find wiregrass?"