"Ethan Woods!" Cedric Fields, barely five-foot-six and scrawny like a plucked chicken, dashed at Ethan with a giant wrench in his hand, eyes blazing, face twisted like a pretzel.

Ethan, standing tall at six feet even, took two quick steps back, faking panic. He shouted as he retreated, "He's trying to kill me! Cedric’s got murder on the brain! Y’all better be witnesses!"

While his tone seemed over the top, Ethan's sharp eyes stayed calm, even carrying a faint smirk, like he was having fun.

It was just after noon, the June sun hung straight up in the sky. At the factory canteen’s entrance, hundreds of workers holding shiny aluminum lunch boxes had gathered, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.

"What’s going on? Why's Cedric charging at Ethan like that?"

"Man, it’s all about that girl, right? Cedric’s been chasing Sophia Bailey, but she’s into Ethan. Whole plant’s buzzing about it."

A guy with soot-dark skin shook his head, grinning. “Classic tale, buddy. Wars have been started over women!”

“Damn, Black! You sound like you’re applying for college or something!” someone joked, drawing chuckles.

Love triangles were factory folk’s favorite pastime. Jokes flew around like loose bolts, with nobody taking the scuffle too seriously.

Out here, most were rough-and-tumble types. Fights like this weren’t rare — chasing someone with a knife wasn’t even the craziest thing in recent memory.

Then suddenly—someone, no one saw who—stuck a foot out from the crowd, and bam, Cedric face-planted right into the concrete.

The entire crowd winced in unison.

Oof. That had to hurt.

Cedric landed practically at Ethan’s feet, nose bloodied, whining in pain.

Ethan calmly nudged the wrench away with his foot and then crouched beside him, voice dripping with mock concern. “Cedric, man, you okay? Look at you. You’re one of the office staff, aren’t you? What were you thinking? Trying to bash someone’s head in? That’s flirting with felony, buddy. So tell me—should I call the cops… or call the cops?”

His tone had that deadpan twist that just killed. The crowd exploded into laughter again.

"You folks got nothing better to do?" A deep voice cut through the noise as Brooks Smith, the plant director, walked up carrying his lunchbox, face like thunder. Wherever he passed, the crowd parted.

Twelve years at the top had carved his place in the pecking order—around here, Brooks was the king. One cough and not a soul dared breathe.Just a moment ago, the workers were still chuckling and chatting, but the second Brooks Smith showed up, they scattered like birds. In no time, the mess hall entrance that was packed tight became eerily quiet.

Brooks swept a sharp glare around, first locking eyes on Ethan Woods with a fierce stare, then glancing at Cedric Fields groaning on the floor.

"Ethan Woods, you went to college, didn’t you? And this is how you behave—fighting in front of everyone?" Brooks didn’t waste any time; he dove straight into blaming Ethan.

"Director Smith, that’s really unfair. Everyone here saw what happened! Cedric came at me with a wrench like he was gonna kill me. He tripped on his own—I didn’t even touch him." Ethan’s face changed fast—from alarmed to now sounding like an innocent man wrongly accused.

Brooks let out a cold snort. "All I see is Cedric on the ground and you standing there without a scratch."

Right then, Paul Miller hurried over with two security guys from the plant’s security team.

"Take Cedric to the infirmary first. We’ll sort the rest out once the security team looks into it," Brooks tossed over his shoulder before walking into the mess hall. It was obvious he was trying to smooth it over—‘investigate’ just meant brushing it under the rug so Cedric didn’t have to take the fall.

Paul and the others helped Cedric up and started heading toward the infirmary.

Ethan squinted at Brooks’ back, not saying a word. The pitiful expression he had earlier was gone. His face was now hard as stone, unreadable.

Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d faced something like this, it still made his blood boil. He could feel something seething inside, but at least now he could keep it in check.

Last time, he almost beat Cedric to a pulp.

Brooks’ favoritism was no mystery—Cedric’s dad, Edward Fields, ran the slag plant and was on equal footing with him. With power protecting power, Ethan, who came from a regular family despite his fancy degree, didn’t stand a chance.

As Brooks disappeared into the hall, a young guy with a buzzcut jogged over to Ethan.

"Hey Ethan, that trip was all me. Nice, huh? Cedric’s face is probably never gonna look the same."

That was Frank Harris, Ethan’s close buddy. Seeing him, Ethan’s expression softened instantly, like sunlight warming a pond. His earlier anger melted into a bright grin. He threw an arm around Frank’s shoulders.

"I saw that move. You’re a lifesaver, Frank. Dinner’s on me tonight after work."

"Come on! With the peanuts we make, one nice meal and we’ll be living on fumes till payday."

"Relax, money’s not a problem. I’ve got something big coming my way," Ethan said confidently, though Frank didn’t buy it for a second.In 1988's Ge'an, most factory workers earned around seventy or eighty yuan a month. For newcomers like Frank Harris, it was only forty-eight yuan. Ethan Woods, as a college graduate, made sixty-seven a month.

Sure, things were cheaper back then, but eating out still cost five to eight yuan. Frank, like Ethan, didn't come from a wealthy family. Spending money on a meal in a restaurant felt more painful than skipping dinner altogether.

Ethan didn't dwell on it. "Frank, do me a favor and grab me lunch." He pulled out a few meal coupons from his pocket and stuffed them into Frank’s hand, then turned and jogged back to the tech office.

He pulled out a sheet of lined paper and quickly started writing.

“This statement confirms: On June 2nd, 1988, Cedric Fields, a staff member from the sales department of the Hot Rolling Mill, attempted to kill Ethan Woods with a wrench at the canteen entrance…”

Once done, Ethan grabbed a box of ink for fingerprints and rushed back to the canteen.

Noticing that Brooks Smith had finished eating and left, he started going around table to table asking workers to sign and fingerprint the statement.

The workers were still laughing and joking as usual. When Ethan came over, none of them took it too seriously—they scribbled their names in sloppy handwriting and pressed a bright red fingerprint down without much thought.

Within half an hour, both sheets were full of red prints. Ethan gave them a quick count—over a hundred signatures. That’d do.

He hopped on his bike, stopped to get a box of Hongtashan cigarettes for 2.5 yuan from the kiosk, then headed over to the internal security bureau of Ge'gang nearby and found his old acquaintance, Officer Lewis.

Back when he first joined the mill, Ethan had been seconded to the security bureau for a while because of his education, serving as a temporary legal advisor. Officer Lewis had been the one guiding him then.

Without wasting time, Ethan slapped the papers on the desk. "Lewis, I’m here to report a case. Cedric Fields from our mill tried to kill me at lunch today. There were hundreds of people around—they all saw it. Here’s their testimony."

While saying that, he casually popped open the cigarette box, handed one to Officer Lewis, and laid the rest of the pack on the desk like it was nothing.

Officer Lewis glanced at the brand and chuckled a little, "Look at you—college kid smoking Hongtashan, huh?"

He lit one up, took a puff, and glanced over the statement. “Alright, I’ll keep these. I’ll head over this afternoon and talk to Zhang from your plant.”

“Thanks, Lewis. You’re saving my life here. You’ve got to get Cedric locked up. If not, he’ll come for me again.” Ethan thanked him over and over and headed out.

That very afternoon, Lewis and another officer rode a sidecar motorcycle into the hot rolling plant.

News spread like wildfire—cops were in the factory investigating an attempted murder by Cedric Fields.