Chapter 276: Underworld Sequence, Sequence Nine: Wandering Spirit

As it turned out, with the cooperation of many new nobles and capitalists, the union developed even faster than Lu Yan had anticipated.

In just half a month, over eighty thousand workers had joined the union.

Back in the old factories, a factory manager who paid wages on time and didn’t intentionally withhold pay was already considered a decent boss.

But after the union’s arrival, factory managers began improving working conditions, reducing exploitation, and even compensating workers injured on the job—this was a dream life the workers never dared imagine.

Moreover, union members were protected from the exploitation of local gangs.

In just half a month, more than half of the ten-plus gangs scattered across the industrial district had been eliminated. The remaining ones either had noble backing or the protection of Transcendents.

For a time, the entire industrial district was swept clean.

The true reason behind the union’s rapid growth, beyond Lu Yan’s deals with nobles and capitalists, was the upheaval at the Weirton family’s mine.

By Lu Yan’s design, Sain led the fledgling union in participating in the mine uprising. He personally killed Weirton’s Sequence Eight Transcendent son, Clio, along with several guards, and hung their bodies on a lamppost.

That incident made the union infamous. And afterward, in order to prevent the church from intervening, the noble council intentionally suppressed the incident, further increasing the fame and legitimacy of both the union and Sain.

Combined with Lu Yan’s deal with the nobles and capitalists that brought better treatment for workers, the union’s rapid growth was inevitable.

Half a month later, with over 80,000 members, the union had become an unignorable giant within the industrial district.

However, having reached this point, the union’s expansion began to slow.

The nobles and capitalists who had made deals with Lu Yan had already integrated their factories into the union system, and their workers had become union members.

But the industrial district of Oranke was the largest in the entire Victoria Kingdom, and the nobles and capitalists who attended the Violet Manor banquet accounted for only a small portion of it.

There were still large numbers of workers employed by common factory owners or under the control of high-ranking nobles.

The common factory owners were relatively easy to deal with. The union’s massive size and Sain’s power as a Sequence Seven Transcendent gave them plenty of leverage. Through negotiations, the union was gradually expanding its influence.

But those great nobles who controlled large numbers of factories were currently beyond the union’s ability to confront.

They didn’t even need to act directly—a single push for legislation in the council could bring the full force of Oranke’s government down on the union.

That said, the banquet at Violet Manor wasn’t exactly a secret. Most of the great nobles were already aware that there was a Saint behind the union.

As long as the union didn’t threaten their core interests, they were willing to maintain superficial peace.

After all, even the most long-standing noble houses didn’t always have a Saint in every generation.

Lu Yan understood this well and didn’t rush to act.

The union had only just formed. The workers had banded together for better treatment, but they didn’t yet have a clear understanding of what that truly meant.

Lu Yan was waiting—for the right moment.

He was waiting for the non-union workers to realize the cruelty of their exploitation.

He was waiting for union members to see the stark contrast between their lives and those of ordinary workers and to grasp the true value of the union.

Only when they themselves began to recognize the problem could the union’s full potential be awakened.

Of course, Lu Yan hadn’t been idle during this half month.

Ever since collecting a vast amount of knowledge on Transcendent paths that day, his ideas for the Underworld sequence had become increasingly complete.

And now, all he needed was a catalyst.

…

The Blacklight Clinic sat deep within a dark alley in Oranke’s eastern district, bordering the industrial zone. The buildings around it were stained by soot and smoke, making the area appear shabby and run-down.

A wooden sign swayed in the cold wind, and inside the clinic, only a few lamps dimly lit the room.

Such a dilapidated clinic was only visited by the lowest-tier workers—no average Oranke citizen would come here for treatment.

Anna’s body was frail. Her hair was dry and yellow, and she wore the worn-out uniform of the textile factory as she slowly approached the clinic.

She had been dismissed from the factory for several months but still wore the uniform—it was the best piece of clothing she had.

All employees at the textile factory were required to wear the uniform, which cost three days’ wages despite its poor quality.

Yet people still clamored to work there.

After Anna fell gravely ill and was fired without pay, her family’s situation deteriorated rapidly.

With trembling hands, she tightly gripped a kitchen knife hidden in her sleeve.

Though illness had drained the color from her face, her eyes burned with hatred.

A few months ago, she’d started coughing at work, her fever never subsiding. The factory foreman heartlessly tossed her out.

Her younger brother, Little Wood, was forced to plead with the factory boss, George, for an advance on his wages. George initially refused but, upon learning Anna was sick, suddenly agreed and personally brought them to the Blacklight Clinic.

Doctor Gioya had accepted them, claiming he could cure Anna.

Over the following months, Anna faithfully took her medicine, though her condition never improved. Still, she remained grateful to George and Doctor Gioya.

But everything shattered three days ago.

Little Wood was brought back to their basement home, barely alive, covered in bruises and bleeding from the mouth.

“Anna… Sister,” he rasped. “I went to get our money from Boss George… They tricked us.”

He told her, in a broken voice, that the medicine had been nothing but flour and sugar. The clinic and the boss were running a scam.

After confronting George, Little Wood was beaten by the factory workers on George’s payroll and lost his job.

Still refusing to give up, he brought the fake medicine to Gioya and demanded an explanation—only to interrupt a meeting between the doctor and a noble investor from the upper city.

Rather than addressing his complaint, the noble dismissed him.

“People like us don’t matter,” Little Wood had whispered through tears. “He said as long as money can be squeezed from us, it doesn’t matter if we die.”

The noble praised Gioya for controlling costs so efficiently and promised to help him build a full hospital in the industrial district.

Gioya didn’t stop there. He had Little Wood beaten nearly to death and dumped in a trash pile.

If not for a chance encounter with a former coworker, Little Wood would have died there.

Even so, bringing him home only prolonged the inevitable.

That night, with confusion and grief, Little Wood took his last breath beneath Oranke’s dim, smoky sky.

Now, Anna stood at the clinic’s back entrance, her body racked with pain. Every breath felt like a blade. She knew her time was short, but her resolve was unwavering.

As the last lamp inside the clinic flickered out, Anna slipped through the door.

In the faint moonlight, she crept forward. Gioya was counting the day’s earnings in the back room.

“Who’s there?” a voice called. “Is someone there?”

Gioya opened the door and saw Anna swaying in the hallway. In the dim light, he didn’t recognize the frail woman.

“Ah, another patient,” he said with a professional smile. “Late-night visit? Must be urgent. Come in—I’ll see you right away.”

Anna kept her head lowered as Gioya led her into a small, shabby office. Her hand never left the knife hidden in her sleeve.

“What seems to be the problem?” Gioya asked, eyes scanning her for anything valuable. “I’ve got some new miracle medicine—though it is a bit pricey.”

Then he added, with a hint of pride:

“Don’t worry, though—my treatments are certified by the White family. I’m about to become deputy director of Oranke Industrial Hospital. You won’t get the chance to see me again soon.”

He’d been using this speech all week to con dozens of workers.

Even those who used to know him as a quack were beginning to believe him—after all, the White family’s endorsement was real.

Just as Gioya pondered how best to wring out her last coin, Anna suddenly spoke.

“Do you remember Little Wood?”

Gioya froze, then forced a smile. “Sorry, I see so many patients—I don’t recall.”

“The boy you had beaten three days ago!” Anna’s eyes flashed. “You and your father sold us fake medicine, drained him of his savings, and nearly killed him!”

Panic briefly flickered across Gioya’s face, but he quickly regained composure.

“Ma’am, you must be mistaken. I provide only proper medical care—such things are impossible.”

Then, with a sneer, he added coldly:

“If you’re trying to extort me, forget it. I won’t fall for your tricks. If you’ve got proof, take it to court—if you can even afford a lawyer.”

Before he finished, Anna pulled the knife from her sleeve and lunged at his chest.

But months of illness and weakness slowed her. Gioya easily dodged, and the blade only grazed his shoulder.

The wound was shallow, but the rusted kitchen knife made his blood run cold.

“You crazy bitch!” he roared, grabbing a metal medicine box and smashing it against her head.

Once.

She staggered.

Twice.

She fell to her knees.

A third blow split her temple, blood pooling on the floor.

“Lowly worker,” Gioya panted, face twisted. “Who do you think you are? One less of you is no loss!”

Anna lay on the cold floor, her vision fading.

She saw Little Wood’s eyes before death—full of sorrow and resentment.

The chill of death spread from her limbs, a feeling she’d faced countless times in recent months, each time pushing on for her brother’s sake.

Now, she could go no further.

Everything slowed—Gioya’s pacing, the ticking of the wall clock, his dragged-out curses.

Anna felt suspended in a world beyond reality.

In the silent void, a figure emerged from the darkness.

He was dressed with elegance, holding a silver cane—an appearance that seemed familiar, as if Little Wood had mentioned him before.

But Anna could no longer think clearly.

“Hatred, despair, death…”

Lu Yan’s voice echoed like artful appreciation.

It rang from a distant shore—and from the depths of Anna’s soul.

“Anna Wood, I can offer you a chance. A chance for vengeance.”

His cane tapped the ground, its clear sound resonating through the clinic.

Anna’s soul floated above her ruined body, awareness caught between existence and oblivion.

She saw Gioya’s terrified expression, saw her cooling corpse—it was all like looking through fogged glass.

“You can become a guardian of order… or a spirit of vengeance that all will fear. The choice is yours.”

As Lu Yan spoke, Anna’s awareness sharpened.

Her scattered thoughts condensed. She remembered her brother’s dying eyes, the factory’s oppressive roars, the two-faced city above and below.

“What’s the price?” she asked, her voice now soft as a night breeze.

Lu Yan smiled faintly and drew a symbol on the floor with his cane—a majestic city shaped like mountains.

“Walk the path no one has ever walked before—for me.”

Anna gazed at him. Though he stood in shadow, his presence was divine, almost pulling her soul into submission.

“I accept,” she whispered.

Lu Yan stepped forward, touched a finger to her brow.

“Drink the potion named death. Thus begins the path of the Underworld.”

Her life force vanished, but her soul formed anew outside her body.

She felt herself torn and reassembled, falling and rising in darkness, passing through corridors of wailing and whispers.

“Sequence Nine: Wandering Spirit.”

(End of Chapter)