The reclusive city lord, a former wasteland resident, begged for survival

The gray fog was like a greedy beast, devouring the last glimmer of light on the Oregon wasteland.

Ryan tightened his tactical boots, which were cracked and split, each step making a grating, grinding sound on the charred gravel. His lungs heaved violently beneath his gas mask; the filter was long past its expiration date, and every breath carried the stench of decay and rust. In his arms, a yellowed photograph, soaked with sweat, lay between his arms—a picture of his missing sister, Lily, and his once gentle fiancée, Alice.

Passing through the gray fog zone known as the "meat grinder of death," a monster made of scrap steel plates, containers, and reinforced concrete stands at the edge of the wilderness.

Iron Rock City.

That was the territory of Calder, the local tyrant of this lawless land.

Ryan stood beneath the city gate, enduring a brutal body search by the guards. When he explained his purpose and gave Alice's name, the guards exchanged a mocking glance before leading him to the tallest building in the city center.

In the lobby of the mansion, converted from an old-fashioned office building, the bright lights made Ryan feel dizzy. But even more dazzling than the lights were the familiar faces sitting on the sofas.

"Lian? You...you're still alive?"

The speaker was his mother-in-law, Martha. She wore a well-tailored silk dress and held a half-empty glass of red wine; her elegance, a marvel in the wasteland, now seemed like a dull knife. Her eyes held no joy at their reunion, only disgust at having her comfortable life disrupted.

Henry, the father-in-law, was even more direct. He put down his cigar and frowned in disgust: "What are you doing here at a time like this? Do you think this is still an old-fashioned community gathering? Look at yourself, all disheveled. Don't get Mr. Calder's carpet dirty."

Ryan's gaze passed over the snobbish couple and landed directly behind them.

Alice, dressed in a form-fitting black leather dress, leaned against the armrest of the main seat. She was more beautiful than before, less naive and more cold-blooded, having survived the wasteland. Her gaze swept over Ryan's tattered clothes, landed on his calloused and frostbitten hands, and finally moved away indifferently.

“Alice,” Ryan’s voice was hoarse, “I’ve come to pick you up, and… to get Lily’s things back.”

"Pick her up?"

A scornful laugh came from the shadows.

Calder slowly stood up. He was a burly man, with a mutated wolf king's pelt draped over his shoulders, exuding the oppressive aura of a high-level superhuman. He walked to Alice's side, casually putting his arm around her waist, and even greedily sniffing the crook of her neck.

Alice trembled slightly, then obediently nestled into Calder's arms.

"Hey guys, did you hear that? This piece of trash who can't even beat the mutated rats in the gray fog says he wants to take my woman away?" Calder laughed loudly, and his entourage around him burst into laughter as well.

Ryan clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, and blood dripped from between his fingers.

"Where is Lily's pocket watch?" he asked through gritted teeth, each word seeming to be squeezed out from the depths of his throat.

That was the only memento Lily left behind in the lab explosion. On that terrifying night, he lost his sister in the flames, and that pocket watch was not only a memento, but also held a glimmer of light about the evolution of superpowers.

You mean this?

Calder slowly pulled a bronze pocket watch from his pocket. The case was engraved with exquisite rose patterns, and the familiar luster made Ryan's breath catch in his throat.

Calder's long fingers twirled the watch chain, the pocket watch tracing a cold arc in the air.

"Want it? Sure."

Calder's smile vanished, replaced by a sinister and mocking look. He walked up to Ryan and patted Ryan's cheek with the case of his pocket watch, making a crisp sound. This was not merely a physical touch, but a blatant humiliation.

“But in my Ironrock City, even dragons have to coil up and tigers have to lie down. Besides, you’re just a washed-up stray dog.” Calder leaned close to Ryan’s ear and whispered, “Alice is mine now. And if you want this watch back, you’ll have to show some ‘value’.”

He turned and sat back on his throne, casually tossing the pocket watch into his robes, and coldly delivered his verdict:

“From today onwards, you will be my ‘personal attendant.’ Your job is to clean the dirtiest sewers, move the heaviest ammunition boxes, and… kneel here and wait on my orders when I’m in a bad mood.”

You could hear a pin drop in the hall.

Alice's parents-in-law looked on with schadenfreude, while Alice kept her eyes downcast and never glanced at Ryan.

Lian stood in the center of the empty hall, surrounded by a sea of mockery and contempt. He slowly lowered his eyelashes, and all the anger, murderous intent, and sharpness in his once deep eyes collapsed in an instant, turning into a stagnant, deep pool.

He knew the situation all too well. Lily's pocket watch was in the other man's hands; it was his only reason to live.

"good."

Lian lowered his head, his voice humble and calm: "I accept this...deal."

On this day, Iron Rock City gained another laughing stock.

The genius who once enjoyed a prestigious reputation in the scientific community, the "lovestruck soul" who came through the gray fog, became the most lowly handyman by Calder's side. Every day, he wore oil-stained work clothes and pushed a heavy cart through the muddy camp.

People would deliberately kick over his buckets when they passed by; the guards would force him to bark like a dog while they were drinking. Even the vagrants who were dependent on the city lord would spit on him.

Ryan always endured it all in silence. He would bend over, sweeping snow off the city walls in the biting wind, or serve as a human footstool at Calder's banquets.

No one noticed that beneath his dejected and submissive exterior, a fiery energy, like magma, was silently surging within his pulse. He was like a hunter lurking in the shadows, silently counting each day's humiliation in the darkness.

He not only wants to get his pocket watch back, but he also wants to find out the truth behind the explosion.

The price of all this is merely the temporary sacrifice of one's so-called "personality".

"Hurry up, you good-for-nothing! Lord Calder's boots are dirty!" A foreman lashed Ryan hard with his whip.

Ryan stumbled slightly, then silently walked forward, knelt on one knee in the mud, and picked up a rag to wipe the dirt from Calder's feet. In his lowered vision, he saw a cold figure standing not far away—it was the second female lead, Lena.

There was no mockery in her eyes, only a chilling and hateful look.

Ryan knew that Calder was not the only one here who wanted him dead.