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Grace completely ignored Gotthardt's words. She had now turned her attention toward calculating whether the heat dissipation of the engine group matched the Leviathan Dreadnought's own capacity, and how to improve the cooling system without making excessive modifications.
For the first time, the Son of Stone felt a headache caused by someone else's stubbornness. He admired this woman's passion for knowledge—one he himself once shared in certain fields with the same degree of obsession. But Gotthardt Stahlgriff was a Space Marine; his physiology far surpassed that of ordinary humans. His learning speed and fatigue resistance were not things Grace, a mere mortal, could hope to match.
He respected her zeal for machinery—deeply so—but one needed to live in order to maintain such passion.
Grace's work area was piled with empty Fuel Drink cans and all kinds of snack packaging. If it weren't so indecent, she'd probably have looked for a faster way to handle bathroom needs too.
"Lady! Listen to me! We have plenty of time—there is no need to rush right now!" the old veteran's vox-array boomed. He did his best to use gentle persuasion, but Grace treated his words like background noise.
Grace's phone started ringing, but she didn't react at all. Her eyes—already losing focus—remained locked on the computer screen. Gotthardt even wondered whether she had already passed out with her eyes open, her hands running purely on inertia, typing in numbers and commands.
Not until the fourth round of ringing did Grace suddenly jolt and pick up the call like her soul had returned.
The moment she pressed the button, Koleda's loud voice exploded through the speaker. "Big sis! Are you seriously still not resting!?"
The company president was furious. Grace had been far too absorbed in her work these days, barely resting at all. Every day she showed up with heavy dark circles under her eyes, looking like she could fall asleep standing. She drank Fuel Drinks like water—and for a functional beverage, the strain that put on her body was unimaginable.
"If you don't go rest right now, I'll just say it—I'll cut your research budget for the next three months! Then I'll issue a company-wide notice ordering Anton to supervise you and force you to rest for a full month! No touching anything work-related! If you want to continue your research, you have thirty minutes to leave that warehouse and go to bed!"
Koleda sounded truly angry, though the punishment measure itself was… somewhat abstract.
But to a scholar who was deeply engrossed in her research, cutting off her funding and enforcing mandatory leave was indeed a form of punishment.
"Little one, you can't do that!" Grace panicked immediately. "The kids still need constant adjustments! Their AI cores behave differently inside Hollows—I need to keep observing! They can't manage without me."
"Then hurry up and pack your things and go home to rest! I've run out of other methods!"
"I get it, I get it, little one." Grace hung up and stretched lazily.
Watching Grace finally stand, shut off the computer, and yawn—actually showing signs of leaving—Gotthardt finally relaxed.
"See you tomorrow, lady. Sleep well." The old veteran could not wave, but he bent forward slightly and gave her a nod.
"See you tomorrow. I'll get the mechanical arms done as soon as possible." Grace left through the personnel door and switched off the lights.
The warehouse instantly fell into darkness, with only the faint glow from the Leviathan Dreadnought's optic camera remaining.
This warehouse was located near the outskirts of the city—cheap rent, decent transportation. Belobog Heavy Industries had heavy-lift transport helicopters anyway; most large equipment was moved by air after obtaining flight clearance.
Grace pulled out her phone. It was already late at night. No buses or subway trains were operating. The only way home was a rideshare.
While the Steel Witch waited for the driver, she suddenly thought she heard something—a scream.
Warehouse districts usually had few people, but many stray cats or other small animals made their homes here. But wild animals didn't scream… and certainly didn't yell "what the hell!"
A petty thief trying his luck?
Grace tensed. Although the warehouse district didn't belong solely to Belobog Heavy Industries, she decided to check it out.
The Steel Witch pulled her weapon from the large ring of tools at her waist—a modified nailgun. She had mounted a W-Engine inside it, allowing each nail to carry a strong electric charge, powerful enough to take down an Ethereal.
A cold night breeze blew, stirring her exhausted mind awake. Grace slipped into the dense darkness. She was familiar with this area; after only a few steps she found footprints near the wall—along with blood.
It looked like they climbed over the wall and stepped on a nail; someone had their foot pierced clean through. A rope still hung from the wall, and thick blankets covered the barbed wire, nullifying its defenses.
They were well prepared—at least they had scouted the place. They knew the warehouse district was empty at this hour, and that security rarely patrolled. They simply hadn't expected a workaholic who hadn't gone home yet.
Grace disengaged the nailgun's safety. She didn't like hurting people, but sometimes a weapon helped others listen.
Following the blood trail, the Steel Witch moved steadily closer to the warehouse she had just left. A bad feeling emerged in her chest. Were they targeting the old man?
Belobog Heavy Industries had recently been under all sorts of pressure. The old metro reconstruction project had been hitting obstacles—both in official channels and in shadier circles. Perhaps these intruders intended to sabotage the "Old Capital Engineering Machine" the company was restoring, as a form of intimidation.
That ominous feeling became reality. The Steel Witch saw a corpse—its foot pierced through.
Foot injuries were common on construction sites, but fatal ones? That was new. The cause of death was not the foot—it was the hole in the victim's head, unmistakably a gunshot wound.
Grace knew she hadn't gone far, and tracking them here took only minutes. That meant the shooter fired at a distance close enough for her to hear—yet she heard nothing. The enemy had a professional suppressor. They were no mere thieves.
Grace immediately pulled out her phone and sent a silent emergency text to the New Eridu Public Security Bureau. She dared not call—any sound might expose her.
The corpse's eyes were wide open, frozen in disbelief. He probably never expected his partners to kill him to keep him quiet.
Grace recalled posts she'd seen on the Inter-Knot: rumors of one or more military groups in New Eridu loyal to the shadow government. They carried out missions that could never see daylight—among them eliminating business rivals on behalf of certain "friends," quite literally.
She moved cautiously through the shadows, minimizing noise. Her mind was tightly wound, and her exhausted body was finally reaching its limit. Her heart pounded uncontrollably, golden sparks flickered in her vision—the accumulated fatigue had erupted all at once.
Fuel Drinks could only carry her so far. Their effect had run dry.
Her muscles weren't responding. Her limbs felt heavy. Darkness pulsed at the edge of her sight. Drowsiness threatened to swallow her whole.
Grace held on through sheer will. She managed to send a distress ping to Koleda and the others—just a short message saying the warehouse was in danger and there were attackers.
It wasn't that she didn't want to explain in detail—she heard voices.
"Report. We've arrived near the target warehouse." A calm male voice, possibly early thirties.
"Understood. The target is to destroy the Old Capital Engineering Machine discovered by Belobog Heavy Industries. Don't worry, boss—we brought plenty of explosives. Forget one machine, we could send this entire warehouse district to the sky." He continued speaking.
"Yes, the operation is going smoothly. No threats detected. The guide has been disposed of. We'll collect the body on the way back to avoid exposure."
Hearing the enemy's words, Grace Howard's mind cleared a bit, and she pinched her own thigh, using the pain to maintain her awareness.
To blow up the entire warehouse, even with the strongest industrial explosives available today, it would take at least half a ton. How many people did they send… I hope the Public Security arrives soon.
She sent another message to New Eridu Public Security, specifying that the attackers were carrying heavy equipment and a large amount of explosives.
"Now, prepare to act. The target is the enemy's warehouse machinery. Complete this mission as quickly as possible and then withdraw," the man ordered his subordinates. "According to the preplanned operation, Group One will guard outside, Group Two will plant explosives, and Group Three will check inside the warehouse for anyone remaining."
"Boss, there's no way anyone's inside, right? The lights are off, it's already midnight."
"Stop talking and move!"
Grace Howard's head throbbed painfully; she couldn't wait any longer. The Public Security would definitely not make it in time, and Koleda and the others were far away. Gotthardt didn't have his mechanical arms, and she wasn't sure if the four heavy flamethrowers could be used. Grace had only connected the fuel tanks and compressed air cylinders.
From her hiding corner, she saw a group of dark figures leap out, roughly thirty of them. They quickly split into three groups and began to surround the warehouse.
I can't let them get in!
Grace could no longer think clearly; the urgency and fatigue gnawed at her, and she had to rely on herself to hold the attackers off.
In the darkness, she raised her W-Engine nail gun, aimed at one of the shadows, and pulled the trigger.
The ether explosives ignited, and the blast wave propelled the electrified nail into the target's leg. The strong current immediately knocked him down, twitching on the ground.
"Contact!" The enemy was clearly well-trained; the first group responsible for the outer perimeter immediately turned and began searching. The sound of the nail gun in the night was sharp and clear. They activated their weapon-mounted flashlights and began scanning.
"It's a nail gun. The wound smells burnt, caused by electrocution. Reporting in."
"Be careful. Their combat power isn't strong. Eliminate the target immediately upon discovery."
Grace Howard heard their footsteps approaching and the flashlight beams drawing closer. Her best option now was to move to better cover, but both sides of her position were exposed. Running out would inevitably place her in their line of fire.
Fortunately, she carried some engineering clearance grenades, capable of demolishing large debris. However, the few she had on hand were special—designed to deal with Ethereals, releasing a burst of strong electricity in addition to the explosion.
She crouched in place, waiting for an opportunity. Her muscles were too fatigued to throw as usual, so she could only wait for the enemies to get close and then roll the grenade.
The footsteps drew closer. Grace pulled the grenade's safety off, and the drowsiness made her vision go black for a moment. When she regained focus, the enemies were only a few meters from her position.
The Steel Witch immediately rolled the grenade forward.
"What's that?" The enemy froze briefly. "A grenade!"
A piercing scream rang out, followed by an explosion. Grace Howard leapt from her hiding spot, firing the nail gun at the two fallen enemies multiple times to ensure they wouldn't get up again.
But enemy reinforcements arrived quickly. Another two-person squad immediately joined the attack and unleashed a sweeping fire on Grace.
"Hurry, circle from the other side!" someone shouted. "Looks like we've got the Steel Witch from Belobog Heavy Industries! We hit the jackpot!"
"Her bounty's not low. They specifically want her dead!"
Their voices were excited and cruel, yet their movements were highly professional. They flanked from both sides, continuously suppressing Grace's cover with gunfire. Any motion—peeking out or throwing a grenade—would result in serious injury.
Is it all over now? Damn! I shouldn't have rushed in!
"Old man, I'm sorry I can't repair your mech personally, but I've already uploaded the repair plan. Koleda will complete the rest."
Grace Howard watched as bullets kicked up dust from the floor on either side, gripping her nail gun, ready for one last stand.
A deafening explosion rocked the warehouse.
"Looks like the boss and team succeeded," someone said excitedly. "I mean, that Steel Witch is built nicely—can we not kill her so fast?"
"Wait! What's that thing?"
The ground trembled like some gigantic beast was moving.
"Open fire! Open fire!"
"Our bullets have no effect!"
"Die, maggots!"
Gotthardt… the old veteran is okay!
Then Grace heard the hiss of compressed air cylinders releasing and the roar of ether fuel igniting. The surrounding area was bathed in the red glow of fire, and the air smelled of burning protein.
"Come out, Milady Grace. All intruders have been eliminated."
The old veteran's voice had never made her feel so safe. She crawled out from her hiding spot. The Leviathan Siege Dreadnought with its massive yet armless frame stood fearlessly before the burning warehouse. Its enormous walking mechanisms were smeared with blood and flesh—none of the attackers got the upper hand.
"No one can harm you as long as I'm still standing," Gotthardt Stahlgriff said, standing before her. His bright yellow paint and tightly clenched black fist were striking, true to his name.
"Thank you…" Grace was stunned. This machine was so beautiful, so powerful, far more impressive than any Typhon Tactical Mech she had loved before.
"There are no more enemies. I've contacted Koleda; she's bringing the helicopter. I'll guard you here until you're safe," the old veteran said, turning around.
His back armor plates were still open. She clearly remembered that no weapon system piping was connected. How did the flamethrower even activate?
Grace Howard didn't have time to think; The exhaustion and tension sent her thoughts into darkness.