Chapter 10 - Old River Foundry
Old River Foundry had been abandoned since 1987.
At least publicly.
At eleven fifty-eight the next night, thirty luxury cars filled its cracked parking lot.
Mason arrived in the twenty-dollar Rook.
It backfired while he parked.
Every head turned.
Tessa covered her face.
“Perfect entrance.”
“I like to establish expectations early.”
Inside, the foundry floor had been transformed.
Portable lights illuminated a circular fighting platform surrounded by old furnaces. Men and women in tailored coats stood beside people wearing work boots, biker jackets, business suits, and one guy Mason was ninety percent sure he had seen selling real estate on local television.
Cultivators.
Hidden in plain sight.
Logan waited beside the platform.
He looked at the Rook visible through the open doors.
“You came in that?”
“It has character.”
“It has tetanus.”
A tall older woman stepped forward.
Silver hair.
Black suit.
No jewelry except a steel ring.
The system displayed nothing over her.
That was worse.
Tessa whispered, “Evelyn Mercer. House head.”
Evelyn looked at Mason.
“You established reclamation rights on the Blackstar fragment.”
“I fixed a wire.”
A few people laughed.
Evelyn did not.
“Repair is a claim under old law. Mercer House disputes the object was abandoned.”
“It was in a scrapyard.”
“It was secured.”
“On top of two crushed Hondas.”
More laughter.
Logan’s mouth twitched.
Evelyn studied Mason.
“You have humor. Useful when one lacks power.”
Mason smiled.
“I hear money works similarly.”
The room went quiet.
Tessa whispered, “You are addicted to making situations worse.”
Evelyn raised one finger.
A young man stepped onto the platform.
Jace Mercer.
Twenty-three, expensive haircut, shoulders like he had been designed by a supplement company.
The system finally produced a panel.
[JACE MERCER]
REALM: TIN SKIN — NINTH LAYER
PATH: FURNACE FIST
STRENGTH: 17
ENDURANCE: 16
Mason looked at his own Strength: 8.
“Oh.”
Jace smiled.
“You can surrender the claim.”
“And then?”
“We remove your cultivation seal and let you go.”
Mason frowned.
“Remove my what?”
Tessa’s face went cold.
“They mean cripple your meridians.”
Jace shrugged.
“You weren’t born into this world. You won’t miss it.”
That did it.
Mason stepped onto the platform.
The system chimed.
[CLAIM TRIAL ACCEPTED]
[VICTORY CONDITION: REMAIN STANDING FOR THREE MINUTES]
Mason blinked.
“I don’t have to beat him?”
[NO.]
“Great.”
[OPTIONAL OBJECTIVE: MAKE HIM REGRET HIS HAIRCUT.]
Mason almost laughed.
The bell rang.
Jace crossed twelve feet before Mason finished inhaling.
The first punch hit his guard and launched him backward.
He rolled across steel.
His arms went numb.
[SECOND WIND READY]
Jace walked toward him.
“Still funny?”
Mason pushed himself up.
“Ask me in two minutes and forty-one seconds.”
Jace’s smile vanished.
Around the arena, abandoned furnaces began to glow in Mason’s vision.
Scrapfield Breathing activated.
The dead foundry inhaled with him.
And something ancient beneath the floor woke up.
---
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