Chapter 840: 437 Iron Wang Gong

"Help!"

"Murder!"

Joshua, who had been "assassinated," had fortunately managed to turn the carriage door handle, but his collar was gripped from behind by Li Ang, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't break free; in desperation, he thrashed wildly while screaming at the top of his lungs.

The carriage driver, after all, was not deaf, and such a commotion inside the cabin could not go unnoticed.

Hearing the passenger's cries, he hastily slowed and pulled over, then opened the small window between the driver's seat and the cabin, cautiously peering inside.

"Gentlemen… what's going on?"

"It's nothing."

After clamping a hand over Joshua's mouth, Li Ang turned back with an unflinching expression:

"We're just fooling around. Keep going… wait, what's wrong with your face?"

Huh?

The driver blinked, confused, then raised his round metal palm and rubbed his slightly rusted face, eyes full of bewilderment:

"Sir, is there something on my face?"

"…"

It's not that there's something on your face—it's what the hell are you?!

Seeing the iron-skulled head protruding from the window, gleaming with eerie metallic luster, and those hollow eyes turned to brown glass, both men in the cabin drew a sharp breath.

"Mmmph! Mmmmm!"

Already startled by Li Ang's "assassination," Joshua was now further terrified by the monster peering through the window; his shock reached its limit, his body went limp, and he collapsed onto the cabin floor, staring in horror at the iron driver, speechless.

Li Ang, though startled by the iron-faced driver, had spent the past two months as a Cleaner—his mental resilience had been brutally honed; this level of anomaly no longer shocked him.

After steadying himself, Li Ang first shut the carriage door, then lifted Joshua's entire limp body and shoved him back onto the opposite seat, before cautiously asking the driver:

"Can you tell me, what does it feel like when you touch your own face?"

What kind of question is that?

Though puzzled by Li Ang's inquiry, the driver—who had picked up these two passengers outside the Parliament Gate—knew their status was likely significant, so he answered honestly:

"Same as usual—cold, hard… oh right, my face might be a bit rusty lately, probably needs some oil."

A bit rusty lately…

After hearing this strange reply, Li Ang's eyes narrowed slightly.

To believe oneself an iron being rather than a soft-skinned human meant the driver's self-perception had been corrupted—implying the anomaly responsible held considerable rank.

Should I touch his face?

Abandoning for now the idea of knocking Joshua unconscious, Li Ang stared at the confused iron head in the window, hesitating whether to reach out—yet ultimately decided against it.

If the anomaly that turned the driver into an iron doll spread through contact, touching him directly would be like delivering oneself to it; without knowing its nature or origin, minimizing contact was safer.

"Indeed."

Glancing at the driver's face, Li Ang noticed faint reddish-brown rust stains along his neck and jawline, and nodded amiably:

"You've got some rust. You really ought to take better care of yourself."

"Heh, no need."

Hearing Li Ang, the iron driver chuckled warmly, then spoke in a strange metallic tone:

"Maintenance is for folks like you, sir. We just rub on some rapeseed oil to keep damp away. Besides, with my job—out in wind and rain—no amount of care stops rust."

"That must be hard."

Following the principle of not alarming the source until its nature was confirmed, Li Ang chatted idly while gripping Joshua's hand to open the carriage door, then said calmly:

"By the way, I just remembered something. Could you stop here for a moment? I'll step out for a bit."

"Ah, sure!"

At Li Ang's words, the iron driver nodded, then turned his creaking neck, his two brown-glass eyes fixed directly on the trembling, freckled prince on the floor.

"Sir."

His rust-stained chin slowly parted, revealing the stiff, wooden smile unique to a doll, and with his iron-jointed neck unable to turn far, the driver tilted his head, speaking coldly to the terrified Joshua:

"Need a hot towel?"

"Waaah!!!"

The driver's human-like yet uncannily inhuman movements triggered the uncanny valley effect, shattering Joshua's already shattered psyche.

Letting out an uncontrollable scream, Joshua lunged for the carriage door and tumbled out, instinctively fleeing from the grotesque vehicle.

But when Joshua rose to his feet, pale as death and ready to run, he looked up—and collapsed onto the ground with a thud.

The Wang Gong, the imperial road, the square, the alleys… this place he'd seen countless times—everywhere were iron dolls!

The guards at the palace gate, once armed men, had been replaced by two rows of tall black iron soldiers; their thick gray uniforms had become actual iron plates fused to their bodies.

On the imperial road meant for carriages, steam carriages raced past—but the horses pulling them had turned to iron horses, their joints now spherical like toy parts.

Their once-smooth motion had become jerky; after each stride, their limbs realigned, and the carriage behind would lurch to a sudden stop.

Beyond them, the palace square's guard unit, the elegantly dressed nobles, the pedestrians on the streets, the stray dogs stealing goods, the shouting merchants chasing each other…

Every living thing had become iron dolls. Though the Wang Gong's surroundings remained bustling, every sight was cold, hard iron-gray—no trace of warm, fleshy color remained.

"This… this…"

This isn't just any anomaly…

Squinting toward the distant end of the street, Li Ang saw a group of children undergoing iron transformation—and drew a deep breath.

It wasn't just the driver—every living thing nearby had been transformed, and the range was still expanding. Also…

He looked down at his own still-flesh hands, rubbed them together, and felt the cold, hard texture—his brow furrowed.

Am I an iron doll now?