Chapter 23

Sweet, cloying poison gas seeped through the door crack like a parasitic leech into the cramped metal compartment. Lin Mo pressed a wet cloth over his mouth and nose; his lungs burned, and waves of dizziness crashed over him. Time was running out!

His gaze locked onto a rusted, bowl-sized metal vent opening on the wall. The opening was sealed by a thick metal grille fastened with rivets, its gaps too narrow even for a finger to slip through.

The only way out!

Lin Mo seized the heavy pipe wrench and slammed it with all his strength against the rivets holding the grille in place!

“Clang! Clang! Clang!” The shrill clang of metal echoed through the bunker! Sparks flew! The sturdy rivets slowly deformed and loosened under the wrench’s brute force!

The poison gas outside seemed stirred by the noise, seeping in faster! Lin Mo’s vision darkened, his arms numb; each swing of the wrench felt heavier than the last.

“Clang!” Finally, one rivet shattered and flew off!

“Clang!” A second one!

“Clang!” A third one!

When the last rivet snapped, the heavy metal grille crashed onto the compartment floor with a thunderous clang! A dark, gaping vent opening lay before him! A stale but relatively “clean” airflow rushed in!

Lin Mo greedily sucked in several breaths; the dizziness lessened slightly. He didn’t care where the vent led—dead end or escape—it was better than being trapped in the poison chamber! He shoved the two manuals and the toolbox into his chest, grabbed the wrench, and scrambled headfirst into the icy vent!

The vent was narrow and steep, caked with thick dust and cobwebs. Lin Mo crawled forward on his belly; the wrench dragged behind him, scraping loudly. In darkness, he crawled for who knew how long—until a faint glimmer of light appeared ahead!

He strained toward the light, discovering another grille blocking the vent’s end. Beyond it seemed to be a larger space. He raised the wrench again, ready to smash through.

Just then!

“Squeak! Grrr! Who?! Who’s tinkering with Toolman’s roof?! Come out! Or I’ll blow you to bits!” A shrill, manic, rapid-fire voice erupted from beyond the grille!

Lin Mo flinched. That voice… wasn’t human. More like some… unstable goblin?

He cautiously peered through the grille’s gaps. Outside was a chaotic room piled high with discarded machinery, parts, and explosives! A creature under a meter tall, dressed in patched rags and metal scraps, its head crowned with wild green hair and eyes comically oversized, waved a metal can wired with cables and detonators above its head, dancing wildly, spitting saliva, its expression a mix of terror and madness!

A goblin! The race famed on the wasteland for mad inventions and explosions! How was it here?

“Don’t move! I’m not your enemy!” Lin Mo shouted, his voice muffled in the vent. “I was trapped by Black Scorpion’s poison gas! I escaped through the vent!”

“Black Scorpion?! Those black-leathered, black-hearted bastards?!” The goblin’s green skin twitched violently; hatred flared in his eyes. “Toolman hates Black Scorpion most! They stole my ‘Boom-Baby’ blueprints! Blew up my lab!” He waved the “bomb” wildly, agitated.

“We’re the same! Black Scorpion attacked our outpost!” Lin Mo seized the common ground. “I’m Lin Mo! I need help! I’ll trade you clean water!”

“Clean water?!” The goblin’s tiny green eyes widened to saucers, gleaming with greed. “Really?! You’re not lying to Toolman?!”

“True! My outpost purifies water!” Lin Mo affirmed. “Let me out—we can work together! Fight Black Scorpion!”

The goblin scratched his head, wrestling with inner conflict. Clean water was priceless on the wasteland. In the end, his hatred for Black Scorpion and his thirst for purified water overcame his suspicion.

“Fine! Sneaky human! Toolman believes you once! If you lie, I’ll blow you and the Black Scorpions to hell!” He grumbled, set down the “bomb,” grabbed a crowbar, and pried open the vent grille in a few swift motions.

Lin Mo crawled out, filthy with grease and dust. He eyed the manic goblin inventor warily.

“Water! Clean water! Give it to Toolman now!” The goblin stretched out his grimy hand eagerly.

Lin Mo unslung his canteen—still holding the last few sips of Lingna’s purified water—and carefully poured a small cup for him. The goblin cradled it like holy water, sipped slowly, and his green face instantly softened into rapture: “Oh! Sweet! Pure! No radiation stink! Real!”

His gaze toward Lin Mo turned distinctly “friendly”: “Sneaky… uh, friend Lin Mo! Toolman, greatest goblin inventor! Now we’re allies! What do you need? Toolman’s got junk—plenty! Just… need more pipes!”

Looking at this deranged but clearly capable goblin, Lin Mo felt a flicker of hope. He immediately described the materials he needed for a water purifier: a larger container, finer plastic tubing, substitute activated charcoal—lots of charcoal, a pump…

“Water purifier? Easy!” The goblin thumped his chest, grease flying. “Toolman’ll build you one ten times bigger! No—a hundred times more efficient! With my ‘Super Filter Core’! But… need a few little parts…” His tiny green eyes darted toward Lin Mo’s toolbox.

Lin Mo’s heart tightened. This goblin wasn’t easily fooled. But he needed the purifier. He gritted his teeth: “You can borrow the tools—but you’ll return them. In exchange, you’ll help me make a few… defensive gadgets.” He thought of the incendiary bottles and tripwires—if the goblin’s “tech” enhanced them…

“Defensive? Explosives?! Toolman’s favorite!” The goblin leapt up, dancing wildly. “Fire? Flying? With nails? Tell me! Leave it to Toolman! Hahaha! Let Black Scorpion and Bloodclaw taste Toolman’s genius!”

A mad human warlord and a deranged goblin inventor forged a volatile alliance in a ruin-littered lab piled high with explosives. The tech tree of Hope Outpost was about to be warped in a brand-new direction by this green-skinned dwarf. And the shadow of Black Scorpion still loomed over the Graveyard of Gears.