Chapter 92: The Orphanage’s Iron Tyrant

I’m back, carrying my mind arts cultivation! I’m back, carrying my mental qi! I’m back, carrying the power that passed the local examination and changed my fate! And yes, I’m back with the unfathomable system too!

I, brimming with endless possibilities, have returned.

Buzz. The wristwatch gave a feeble little twitch, reminding Stone Ironheart of one more thing—uh... he had also returned with a debt of 1,000 value points.

No good. He had to make money fast and pay it back!

A two-percent monthly interest rate, a minimum payment of ten percent, and if he was late the interest doubled with no upper limit. Who could possibly endure that? With the repayment deadline on the fourth of next month already looming, he had at least to scrape together the minimum payment first.

He needed a job.

And to find a job, he had to see the director first.

Who was the director?

The director was the orphanage director—Southward.

Southward. That name sounded imposing enough to shake the heavens; it ought to belong to some heroic general or mighty marshal. In truth, however, it was nothing of the sort.

Twenty minutes later, Stone Ironheart had run all the way back from the transit rail station to the orphanage. With the arrival of the great age of space development came all the risks peculiar to the interstellar era. Though universal martial training had raised humanity’s overall physical condition and helped avert or overcome many hardships, the exploration of the unknown remained unimaginably perilous.

Take Saturn, for instance, that immense gas giant not far from Timberfort. Its development had once triggered a colossal crisis. There were many pioneers in the Fog Era, many ambitious men hoping to strike it rich in space, many speculators rushing off to prospect among the stars—and just as many nameless souls who died in the void and vanished without a trace.

Naturally, the number of orphans rose just as sharply, becoming a significant social issue. To ensure their survival, the Human Federation introduced a range of policies, among them the wide construction of orphanages and a certain degree of institutional support.

An orphanage was practically standard equipment for any space city or ground base, and Timberfort’s orphanage stood in the Pasture Plains District.

To save money, Stone Ironheart went on foot. His whole body ached, but perhaps because he had lain paralyzed in the Champion Stone for too long, none of that pain showed even the slightest change on his face.

Still jogging lightly, he soon saw the orphanage gate from afar. The orphanage itself was just a single building, a square block standing there like a cube—sturdy and heavy, yet monotonous and stifling. It had eighteen floors above ground and six below, for a total of twenty-four. Each floor held nearly two hundred rooms, and most of them, so to speak, had no light to speak of.

Of course, for a mere orphanage, getting these minors packed inside and kept alive was enough. One needn’t fuss over living conditions.

As for odors, there were none, and in that respect it was leagues better than the dormitory building of the trash class at Phoenix Song First High School.

Strictly speaking, the entire space city of Timberfort kept very tight control over odors. The orphanage had to meet standards; if it failed, it got no funding. Without this compulsory policy, the smell inside would likely have been dreadful.

Stone Ironheart entered the building, and at once he was met with noise and chaos. The sounds of children playing, arguing, and even fighting drifted all the way down the corridors. Now and then, a roar from an older child would force the little ones to fall silent, only for the uproar to resume not long after.

Suddenly, a flock of seven- or eight-year-old brats came charging past him in a clamor, cursing and howling as they tried to catch a little girl running ahead of them, intent on yanking her braids and stripping off her skirt. Stone Ironheart saw it and did not hesitate. He swung out a big foot and kicked the ringleader so hard the boy went flying apart in disarray.

Those boys said nothing. They did not even bother with any loud protest or show of defiance. They simply scrambled up and ran off again.

Stone Ironheart, for his part, remained silent as well, feeling not the slightest guilt for beating up children. Such scenes were simply the daily life of the orphanage.

In Stone Ironheart’s memory, the orphanage housed roughly 2,600 people. Children came in all ages, from newborns only a few days old to fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds. Too many children, too few staff; there could never be very good education or upbringing. Too many mouths, too few resources, and fighting over things, forming cliques, and struggling for advantage were everywhere.

What you saw today might be boys chasing girls to flip up their skirts; tomorrow it might be girls chasing boys to flick at their privates. It was hard to say who was right or wrong, good or bad. In truth, they were all much the same, and few of them were easy to deal with.

And Stone Ironheart was one of those who had established dominance through repeated struggles and contests. Among the more than two thousand children in this orphanage, he stood near the very front. Without that, he would never have qualified to attend the children’s school at Starworks.

Normally, the final fate awaiting these orphans would be the lowest rungs of labor at farms or paper mills. For the even more miserable ones, there was only the dust-incineration factory, where they burned away their lives. Where would there be any chance to receive an education?

“Brother Iron, you’re back!” A thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy spotted Stone Ironheart and hurried over. “Old Baldy’s looking for you. He told you to get over there right away!”

“Mm.” Stone Ironheart said no more. He merely nodded and headed for the stairs.

Looking at Stone Ironheart’s towering, imposing back and his steady, solid bearing, the boy could not help scratching his head. Strange. For some reason, Brother Iron seemed somehow different now. He could not quite put it into words, but somehow he seemed more, more... more impressive.

The boy’s command of words was even worse than Stone Ironheart’s had been before, and after thinking about it for a long while, he could only come up with that one adjective. Unable to make sense of it, he stopped thinking and roared after the little brats who had already run off. In this place, older children took on the duty of educating and disciplining the younger brats. So long as they kept watch properly, they could even receive a small allowance.

“Don’t run around! Get down here, you little pests!” Following those brats, the boy dashed up the stairs in a wild frenzy. Whether big or small, they all moved with astonishing speed. The children here climbed up and down more than ten floors of stairs all year round, and even the girls possessed remarkable stamina.

Take the elevator, you say?

Don’t be ridiculous. The elevators had long since vanished. With more than two thousand unruly kids here, there wasn’t a piece of high-tech equipment they couldn’t destroy. Besides, the orphanage itself had no money to spare. Every scrap of electricity had to be saved, because they still had to eat.

Stone Ironheart also climbed the stairs at an unhurried pace.

For some reason, ever since returning from Phoenix Song First High School, he felt that his way of thinking was no longer the same as before. It seemed broader somehow, and also more confident, more composed.

The trials endured by the Champion Stone seemed to have taken effect on Brother Iron as well, gradually changing the shape of his thoughts—from that of a fifteen-year-old orphanage tyrant toward that of a sixteen-year-old top scholar, a genius of the Mind Arts sacred ground, and the top scorer in the schoolwide unified examination.

As he went upward, no matter the age of the children he passed or whether they were boys or girls, none dared bump into him. They all had to wait until Stone Ironheart had gone by before resuming their wild running and shouting.

So what was so impressive about being one of the so-called Four Heavenly Kings?

Phoenix Song First High School had only so many punks to begin with, and even then there were people like Vine Soaring and Lord Crook who could not be managed.

But in this orphanage in the Pasture Plains District, there was not a single child who refused my authority. Whoever refused, I would beat them until they did. More than two thousand people bowed their heads before me. In this orphanage, I, Stone Ironheart, am the Iron Tyrant. That is far more glorious than being one of the Four Heavenly Kings.