Chapter 15

The onboarding procedure was very simple.

Fill out an information form, a danger waiver, and that was it.

I voluntarily accept the cremation work, and agree to bear all risks during the work process entirely.

Signatory: Feng Mu

Signing date: March 22, Year 233

A very brief line of explanation, signed and sealed with a red handprint.

"Last life's danger waivers would at least inform you of what the dangers were; here there's no explanation at all, or rather, the two words 'all risks' are enough, heh~"

Feng Mu turned his head and glanced at Wang Jian, but the latter didn't feel anything was wrong.

This must be the awareness of a Blank Citizen.

"Besides pollution and disease, are there any other risks to cremation?" Feng Mu didn't ask Wang Jian; he felt the latter wouldn't know either.

"Forget it; since E Corpses can burn out fragments of Netherworld Yin Fiend Nine Abyssal Calamity Iron, a bit of unknown risk isn't unbearable." Feng Mu could only toss this question to the back of his mind for now.

Wang Jian was very happy Feng Mu came to keep him company; he took Feng Mu around the plant.

"The plant is divided into nine areas total, marked with numbers. Area 1 and Area 2 are the cremation zones, Area 3 is the Corpse Storage, Area 4 through Area 6 are zones for burning pollutants, Area 7 is the Isolation Zone, and I don't know about Area 8 and Area 9 either."

Wang Jian's mouth smacked nonstop as he introduced things,

"Anyway, our daily work is to go to Area 3, transport the E Corpses over, and find an idle incinerator in Area 1 or Area 2 to burn them."

"The other areas have nothing to do with us, and we're not allowed to enter them."

Feng Mu listened quietly, suspicion growing in his heart: "Just an incineration plant, yet the controls are like a military factory."

Of course, he was only suspicious, not curious, and had even less desire to investigate.

He thought: "No secret has anything to do with me; I just want to cremate corpses quietly every day and open 【Blind Boxes】."

Cremation is pure physical labor, no technical content; put on a mask and you can do it.

A total of 3 E Corpses were incinerated in the morning.

Body types varied: one had a head split open into a trumpet-flower shape, one had a humped tumor on its back, one had a sunken chest forming a human face.

The common point was that all vaguely showed a humanoid outline, and none produced loot — only a puddle of white ash remained.

Feng Mu and Wang Jian both showed a hint of disappointment on their faces.

"Generally 10 corpses yield 1 Black Core; depending on quality it can sell for dozens to hundreds on the Black Market. Don't rush; next time one drops I'll take you to the Black Market to sell it." Wang Jian said.

Feng Mu nodded, went over and gathered up the ashes.

E Corpse ashes need to be collected into special paper bags, then placed in the iron box at the gate; workers from Areas 4-6 will come in the afternoon to recycle and process them.

Absolutely cannot just scatter them.

He asked: "Why do Black Market people buy Black Cores? Does this thing have some special use?"

Wang Jian took off his mask, took a drag of his cigarette: "Don't know; anyway it sells for money, someone buys so we sell it, that's all."

Feng Mu shrugged and smiled: "True enough."

At noon they ate in the cafeteria; the food was outstandingly bad, ingredients were the cheapest synthetic meals, but it was all-you-can-eat; Feng Mu pinched his nose and ate five bowls.

Couldn't not pinch his nose; the smell permeating the air mixed into his taste buds, made him want to vomit.

Wang Jian only ate half a bowl, staring at Feng Mu with his mouth agape, a look of admiration on his face.

During the meal, they ran into Wang Jian's father; his temples were white, he didn't speak much, was an Area 5 worker.

"Why didn't you go to the class reunion yesterday?" While washing plates, Wang Jian suddenly asked.

Feng Mu froze for a moment, then seemed to remember something, gave a bitter laugh: "These past few days I've been sleeping in a daze at home, forgot yesterday was the weekend."

This week he'd packed his schedule too full — both destroying corpses and cultivating; yesterday he finally got a day to rest and catch his breath, and genuinely forgot about the classmates' dinner appointment.

Wang Jian didn't think much, opened the chat box: "Everyone's changed a lot; Dong Ni got a tattoo on her arm, Tao Fei can't find work and is preparing to join a Gang, Luo Ji joined the Vanguard Team, next week he's going with the team into the Hidden Gate to clear new ground, don't know if he'll come back alive."

"The meal money was paid by Luo Ji; he said if he dies inside, keeping the money is useless anyway."

"Oh, right, this is for you."

Wang Jian took out a folding dagger from his pocket, handed it over and said: "Luo Ji prepared a gift for everyone; joked that if he doesn't come back, let everyone remember him later and burn some paper money for him."

Seeing Feng Mu didn't reach out, Wang Jian forced it into his pocket laughing: "Take it; everyone accepted, and we all agreed — if Luo Ji doesn't return, next year we'll go together and burn paper for him."

Feng Mu slipped his hand into his pocket, lightly pinched the dagger, silent.

It's a gift, also counts as a relic; a joke, and even more a death resolve.

Feng Mu has been transmigrated for three years; this is the first time he's received a gift; the gift-giver isn't even a friend.

They hadn't spoken more than a few sentences before; yesterday might have been their last intersection, and he missed it too.

The gift is a dagger; placed in the last life it would be very strange, but placed in this world, it's very fitting.

What could be more fitting than giving a Blank Citizen a knife? And the giver is a Blank Citizen currently rushing toward death.

Feng Mu's current mood is very strange — not grief, not sorrow, but a tiny bit... seems like anger!

Feng Mu cursed in a low voice: "This dog-fucked world!"

Wang Jian didn't hear clearly: "What?"

Feng Mu released his grip on the dagger, spread his hands: "Give me a cigarette."

Wang Jian lit a cigarette for Feng Mu, lit one for himself too; the two sat on the steps at the cremator entrance, blowing smoke rings together, neither speaking.

Afternoon.

Another two E Corpses arrived.

Loot dropped: a Black Core the size of a red date, quality better than the one Feng Mu had before.

Feng Mu yielded it to Wang Jian; the two agreed that from now on when loot drops, each person gets one in turn; good or bad quality all depends on luck.

Wang Jian agreed happily, then lent Feng Mu 300 yuan.

"Thanks; I'll pay you back next month when salary comes." Feng Mu thanked Wang Jian.

Wang Jian looked at the Black Core in his hand, then squeezed his flattened wallet, forcing out a complex smile.

There were still two hours until quitting time.

Feng Mu had nothing to do, so he practiced the Basic Fist Technique inside the Corpse-Burning Room.

He had not practiced the Body Forging Exercise, because he had no iron in his belly, so practicing it was meaningless; besides, he now had an extra dagger in his hand, and suddenly became interested in practicing fist techniques.

Why not practice Blade Technique?

Blade Technique is a weapon art; the School does not teach it for free, and Feng Mu had not learned it.

Basic Fist Technique is like the Body Forging Exercise; both are free.

Basic Fist Technique is very low in difficulty; even with Feng Mu's Bone Quality, he could perform it completely and correctly, even without following the video, every move engraved in his muscle memory.

Wang Jian had forgotten to smoke the cigarette in his mouth; he looked at Feng Mu in surprise and doubt, his mind full of questions.

What the hell, we've both dropped out and given up the College Entrance Exam, what are you doing?

"First form, Straight Punch."

"Second form, Thrusting Punch."

"Third form, Elbow Strike."

"Fourth form, Short Thrust."

Feng Mu practiced stiffly, just as before, rigid and without spirit, but he could feel that something was a little different.

"The movements are still stiff, the punching speed is still slow, the footwork is still uncoordinated, but..."

He threw a punch, his ribcage drawing back like a bow and arrow, his spine twisting with a crackling sound, like an iron pole being twisted by brute force.

The next moment.

A crisp explosive sound came from the air.

"Hiss, I pulled something." Feng Mu gritted his teeth in pain; he felt his arm was strained, and the skin on his wrist burned as if congested with blood.

Wang Jian stood stunned, the burnt-out cigarette butt falling onto his shoe, he stammered in a lost voice: "The air made a sound?!!!"

Thank you Shan Fengziyouyinzui for the reward, mua.

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End of Chapter