Xiang Nan's pain didn't come from the virus—it came from overdosing on Altana fluid…
Right now his body was a microscopic battlefield, two forces using his cells as the medium and fighting it out.
One side destroyed; the other repaired.
Even Altana's energy could only slow the virus's damage—it couldn't take it head-on.
All it could do was buy Xiang Nan a little more borrowed time.
In essence, it led to the same fate as the Ant King and the rest: no matter how abundant your life force, saving yourself is nearly impossible.
The only difference was that the Ant King could only absorb the life energy supplied by Youpi and Pouf, whereas Xiang Nan had plenty of Altana fluid in his system inventory… he could last longer.
Another point: taking in that much Altana far exceeded what his body could currently tolerate; but because most of the Dragon Vein power was being burned on fighting the virus—rather than swelling into "runaway" vitality that would trigger side effects—it didn't kill him outright.
You could say he now had two poisons in his system.
Either the virus or an overdose of Dragon Vein power could "kill" Xiang Nan, yet their mutual consumption and cancellation formed a delicate equilibrium.
From Owl's outside vantage point, though, it still looked bleak… As time went by, all he saw was Xiang Nan tilting back bottle after bottle; the early spasms and cries dulled until he was just a heap of ruined flesh with almost no response.
It was impossible to tell whether his body had been damaged to where his mind could no longer exert control, or whether… his spirit had simply unraveled.
Maybe his brain couldn't endure the "sensation" anymore and flipped a self-protective switch.
Either way, the footage on the monitors was suffocating.
Blood from Xiang Nan's body had spread across the floor of the sealed room and fully congealed.
An ordinary person would have died long ago from that much blood loss… yet a faint aura still curled around him—proof that, however grim it looked, he was alive.
Owl closed his eyes, leaned against the wall in the monitoring room, and pushed up the sunglasses on his nose.
"Take turns using Gyo to keep watch… If anything changes, call me."
With that, he seemed to doze off.
"Understood."
The two soldiers exchanged a look and nodded.
…
One day, two days…
By the second day, Xiang Nan was barely moving.
He stopped drinking any more Altana solution.
Even so, his Nen—faint as it was—remained.
To the two Pandora's Box members watching nonstop, the screen showed a man hanging by a thread—like a taut string that might snap at any moment.
"This stuff… it's already been diluted who knows how many times…"
One man at the console licked his dry lips and couldn't help sighing.
As Xiang Nan's former subordinates, they knew exactly how terrifying his strength was—someone utterly out of reach for them—and seeing a Nen master that powerful collapse so easily was… hard to accept.
The other rubbed his eyes.
They hadn't rested at all; Owl only stopped by now and then to glance at the feed before leaving again—who knew what he was thinking.
"The power of this thing isn't something a single human can withstand… It's a 'war-grade weapon' only nation-states can field—we heard about it back when we served under the Ten Dons. The mafia's influence may span continents and countries, but for sheer deterrence they can't compare to real states… Why? This is why. The V5 has kept tight control over all 'forbidden goods' flowing into the underworld… No matter how big the mob's arms trade gets, they'll never lay hands on something like this…"
As he spoke, his voice suddenly cut off and his face went pale.
Even his fingertips trembled.
"Owl…"
After a few seconds of mute shock, panic crept into his voice.
On the monitor, the last wisp of aura coiling through the shadows… vanished.
"…"
Silence fell over the three in the monitoring room.
Xiang Nan… was dead…
Owl stepped up to the screen, motionless, hands in his pockets.
His expression was relaxed—no grief, no heaviness.
"In the end… still a failure, huh…"
Owl sighed.
"Looks like even treasures from the Multiverse can't solve every problem."
"What now? With the boss dead, in the Pandora's Box's current state Omokage will call the shots. All of us together can't oppose him… Do we still stay?" The ex-mafia man clenched his fist, face solemn.
They had expected Xiang Nan's death.
After all, they had watched it with their own eyes.
"Mm…"
Owl rubbed the stubble on his chin, still looking nonchalant. After a moment's thought he said quietly, "Once you join the military, getting out isn't that easy… If we leave now, we hand Omokage the excuse he wants, and the Pandora's Box will hunt us down. So the only way forward is to fight him to the end… even though the likely outcome… is death."
His bluntness made the room feel even heavier.
"The body… what do we do with it?"
After a brief silence, one of them looked at Xiang Nan's remains on the screen and asked, a little sadly.
"Leave it for now… We can't get in there anyway."
Hands in his pockets, Owl turned, pushed open the monitoring room door, and left.
He now had to think through the thorny chain of butterfly effects that Xiang Nan's death would set off.
"Wipe all the recordings… If the military finds out we were even tangentially involved, they won't spare us… The nature of his death is too serious." The other man stood, rubbed his temples, said his piece, and left too.
Soon only the stern-faced soldier remained.
He shut down several screens in turn, exported the data, and prepared to destroy it.
As his finger reached for the last monitor's switch, he glanced again at Xiang Nan's body on the screen and couldn't help letting out a sigh.
It wasn't hard to imagine what came next. Never mind the Republic of Padokea as a whole—this Kotaki City garrison alone was headed for unimaginable turbulence… Xiang Nan could vanish for a few days, even a few months, but if it went on too long, suspicion would be inevitable.
Omokage alone would be hard to fool.
This gap in time was the only "capital" Owl had to try to turn the tables.
They would probably lose—and die. Then again, for ex-mafia types like them, they'd long expected a day like this.
"Goodbye."
Murmuring to the "man" on the screen, the soldier switched off the monitor.