With Mawson's character, of course, he doesn't want to help people for no reason.

Rather, in the process of healing Roman, he discovered something special.

These low-level workers use the most basic engineering prosthetics, which are strong and durable, and are relatively easy to assemble and maintain.

There is not much advanced technical content in these mechanical prostheses, and due to multiple informal repairs, their mechanical prostheses are also varied.

However, this does not mean that these mechanical prostheses are completely devoid of merit. It embodies the wisdom and compromise of the people at the bottom, and through these things, Mo Sen can most intuitively understand the scientific and technological level of Scrap Iron Town.

He also took this opportunity to verify a certain conjecture in his heart.

Without saying a word all the way, the group soon came to the factory where the bearded man was located.

When I arrived at the main entrance of the factory, a row of cars drove out of it, and the bald head touched the door of the head, and spat on the ground with a mouthful of phlegm.

"Phew!"

"You know that you are exploiting us, and if the work intensity is less, Roman will not have an accident."

"Shut up, you don't want to live anymore?"

The bearded man showed a cannibalistic expression, "This factory is just one of the many assets in his name, if it weren't for the fact that the things produced by the factory can be sent directly to Salem through the channel, with his identity, how could he come here?" ”

The crowd stood on the side of the street and watched the convoy move away.

"Who is he?" Mawson asked.

"Victor, the owner of the factory, is also the biggest sponsor of the entire Scrap Iron Town Death Ball Tournament."

"Many people have rumored that he knows the big man in Salem, and he even marked the price clearly, if someone can bring him 1 million, and at the same time, his body has not undergone other modifications."

"He can take that man to Salem and go to heaven from then on."

The bearded man replied.

"Salem doesn't accept mechanically modified people?" Mawson noticed something special.

The bearded man nodded.

"According to rumors, the inhabitants of Salem are natural people who have not undergone any modifications, but from the time they are born, they have a control chip implanted in the center of their eyebrows."

"That thing looks like a crystal, exhibiting different colors and permissions depending on the citizen level."

The bearded man explained.

Hearing this, Mawson couldn't help but glance at the bearded man in surprise.

Although this kind of information is not confidential, with a low-level identity like a beard, there should be no chance to get in touch with it.

"Haha, don't be surprised." The bald head laughed loudly.

"When he was younger, Colt was a well-known handsome man in the neighborhood, and it is said that he once fell in love with a girl who had come down from Salem...... It's just that he was dumped by others later, hahaha! ”

"Smack!"

"Oops!"

"Shut up!" The bearded man glared angrily, and a hint of discoloration flashed in his eyes.

Mawson didn't ask any more questions, but he didn't think things would be as simple as the bald man said.

Instead of going through the main entrance, the crowd made a big circle and entered the factory through the back door of the factory.

The factory covers a large area and is mainly responsible for some food processing, and because of the work, the workers here eat well, at least better than most of the people in the town.

Seeing that the bearded man had a lot of prestige here, he found a separate room for Mawson.

Next, Mawson opened his bags, took out his tools, and the workers outside lined up to accept Mawson's maintenance one by one.

Time passed, and the whole day passed quickly.

"It's over."

Attaching the robotic arm to the last worker, Mawson stood up and began to clean up.

"Thank you, Dr. Mawson."

"It's a little bit of our heart."

The bearded man took a thick stack of bills, which looked thick but had not been of much face value, and which he had collected from the workers who were being maintained.

Mawson didn't look at it, and casually put the money in his pocket.

"That's all for today, and you can let me know next time if maintenance is needed."

Mawson pushed open the door and walked out, it was already dark outside.

"I'll ask Matt to send you back, it's not too safe at night in Scrap Iron Town, you have money with you, and people have been attacked by those crazy people lately." The bearded man was a little worried.

"No need, I've already notified a friend to pick me up." With a wave of his hand, Mawson strode out, and soon his voice could be heard from a distance.

"Don't worry, no one will joke with their safety."

The bearded man thought about it and felt that what Mawson said made sense, and no matter how he looked at it, Mawson didn't look like a reckless person.

"Be careful on the road!"

He shouted.

Mawson didn't respond, just shook his hand and disappeared into the darkness.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked to the clinic following the path he had come, sorting out what he had seen for the day as he walked.

"It's a little weird."

Mawson muttered under his breath.

Throughout the afternoon, he maintained at least hundreds of workers, each of whom had 1~2 prosthetic modifications.

Some are in the limbs, some are in the five senses, in short, they try their best to enhance their work ability.

In the real world, people who undergo prosthetic modification need to connect nerves through special means, and the more complex and powerful the mechanical prosthetics used, the greater the mental pressure.

But here, these mental pressures are transferred, transferred to a special device.

Mawson flipped a thumb-sized disc in his hand.

It is this thing that completes the control of the machine for the person receiving the transformation.

This is a control module.

Although the workers in the factory have a variety of modification techniques, no one can get around this equipment, and without this thing, no mechanical prosthesis can be driven.

However, upon questioning Mawson, he learns that this thing is not made by any of the factories in Scrap Iron Town, but comes from above the sky.

The city of Salem.

Only there can such control modules be manufactured.

This is a bit intriguing.

There is no channel, no origin, but I have never heard of a shortage of such control modules for so long.

"Is it some special form of control?" Mawson frowned and put the control module in his pocket in his hand.

Although he thought about things, he was not slow, and soon left the factory area, and then walked through a large residential area to a remote place near the clinic.

At this moment, he suddenly heard a rapid clicking sound from the alley behind him, and when he turned around, he saw that in the dim alley, a young woman wearing a tight trench coat and heavy makeup on her face was stumbling towards her.

In the distance, a dark shadow seemed to loom.

Seeing Mawson's woman's eyes lit up.

"Sir, help me, help me!"

"I'm being tracked!"

The woman's pretty face was full of panic, as if hearing her cries, and the footsteps in the darkness became more urgent.

Mawson glanced sideways at the woman and continued to walk forward without saying a word, as if he had no intention of helping.

"Sir, please help me!"

Running quickly to a place not far from Mawson's side, it seemed that because of panic, the woman's feet were unstable, her high heels were stuck in the gap of the stone slab, her body was crooked, and she fell to the ground.

A flash of pain flashed across her face.

A faint snow-white patch peeked out of the collar.

And at this moment, the dark shadow behind it finally appeared.