The morning sun did not bring warmth; it brought judgment.
The hospital room smelled of copper and burnt charcoal. Jin Ryeong sat on the floor, surrounded by bloody rags and empty chunks of Pill Slag. He wiped his scalpel on his sleeve, his hands steady but his eyes burning with exhaustion.
On the bed, Ma Goo stirred.
He groaned, trying to stretch his arms.
He couldn't.
His elbows locked at a 120-degree angle. He couldn't straighten them. He looked like a praying mantis, or a boxer permanently stuck in a high guard.
"What..." Ma Goo looked at his arms in horror. "What did you do? I can't reach my toes! I can't even scratch my ass!"
"You don't need to scratch," Jin Ryeong said, his voice raspy from inhaling toxic fumes all night. "You need to survive."
Jin Ryeong stood up, tossing a mirror at Ma Goo.
"Look at your wrists."
Ma Goo looked. There were fresh, angry sutures running along the underside of his forearms. But the usual bulge of the flexor tendons was gone. His wrists looked flat, almost hollow.
"I moved them," Jin Ryeong explained. "I drilled channels into your ulna bone and routed the primary tendons through the bone marrow. Your range of motion is reduced by 40%. Your reach is shorter by three inches."
"You crippled me!" Ma Goo screamed, trying to grab Jin Ryeong but failing because his arms wouldn't extend fully.
"I armored you," Jin Ryeong corrected calmly. "Jian aims for the soft spots. He cuts the strings that control the puppet. Now? There are no strings. If he slashes your wrist, he hits solid calcium. He can't cut what he can't touch."
Ma Goo stared at his deformed arms. He flexed his fingers. They still worked, snapping shut with the terrifying speed of the Fire Ant Oil stimulation.
"I am a monster," Ma Goo whispered.
"No," Jin Ryeong opened the door, letting the blinding light of the arena flood in. "You are Evolution. Now get up. It's feeding time."
The Grand Finals.
The entire Outer Sect was in attendance. Even the servants had stopped working to watch. The VIP box was full; five Elders now sat beside Elder Baek, their interest piqued by the rumors of the "Demon Bear" Ma Goo.
In the center of the ring stood Jian.
He was calm. He wore pristine white robes that fluttered in the wind. In his hand was a sword of cold steel—Autumn Water. It wasn't a cultivation artifact, just a masterpiece of smithing, sharp enough to split a falling leaf.
Jian didn't look at the crowd. He looked at the sky, his aura sharp and cutting. He was the definition of talent.
Then, Ma Goo entered.
He walked strangely. His arms were tucked close to his chest, elbows flared out. He was hunched over, protecting his vitals. He looked like a gargoyle that had hopped off a cathedral.
"A defensive stance?" Jian scoffed, lowering his gaze. "You think tucking your head in will save you from a sword that cuts steel?"
Ma Goo didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was dry from fear. He just twitched, his eyes darting around, looking for the signal from the servant's pit.
Jin Ryeong stood in the shadows. He didn't signal. He just watched.
'The experiment is live.'
"Begin!"
Shing.
Jian didn't charge. He simply drew his sword. The sound alone was sharp enough to make the front row wince.
He took one step.
He vanished.
"Too fast!" someone screamed.
Jian reappeared inside Ma Goo's guard. It was the classic "Flowing Water" footwork. He bypassed Ma Goo's defense effortlessly.
The sword flashed. A horizontal slash aimed directly at Ma Goo's right wrist.
It was a mercy strike. Jian intended to sever the tendon, force Ma Goo to drop his fist, and end the match without a kill.
Clang.
The sound wasn't the wet shlck of flesh parting.
It was the dull, jarring thud of metal hitting rock.
Jian froze. His sword had bitten deep into Ma Goo's wrist. Blood sprayed. The skin was parted.
But the hand didn't drop.
The fingers didn't go limp.
Ma Goo stared at the sword embedded in his arm bone. He blinked.
'It... it didn't work?'
Jian's eyes widened. "What—"
"GRAB HIM!" Jin Ryeong's voice cut through the silence like a whip.
Ma Goo reacted. His brain was slow, but his nerves were overclocked. The pain of the sword cut triggered the Fire Ant response.
His "crippled" arm snapped shut.
Because his tendons were routed through the bone, they had less leverage but more torque. Like a hydraulic press.
Ma Goo's hand clamped onto Jian's sword blade.
He ignored the razor edge slicing into his palm. He squeezed.
"You..." Jian tried to pull the sword back.
It wouldn't move. Ma Goo's grip was locked by anatomy, not just strength.
"My turn," Ma Goo grunted.
He couldn't straighten his arm to punch. So he didn't.
He used his head.
Literally.
CRACK.
Ma Goo headbutted Jian directly in the nose.
Jian stumbled back, releasing the sword handle. He was stunned, blinded by tears and blood.
Ma Goo dropped the sword. He stepped forward, entering Jian's personal space.
Jian tried to retreat, but Ma Goo was faster. The twitchy, spasmodic speed from the Semis was back.
Ma Goo wrapped his short, deformed arms around Jian's waist.
The Bear Hug.
"Let go!" Jian panicked. He summoned his Qi, trying to blast Ma Goo away. Sharp, cutting aura flared from Jian's body, slicing dozens of shallow cuts into Ma Goo's chest.
But Ma Goo didn't feel it. Or rather, he felt it, and it only made him squeeze harder.
The Pill Slag in his gut burned. The Fire Ant Oil screamed. The Bone Tendons tightened like steel cables.
Squeeze.
Everyone heard it.
The sound of ribs groaning, then snapping. One by one. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Jian screamed. It was a high, thin sound. He hammered his fists against Ma Goo's back, but it was like hitting a wall of meat.
"Yield!" Jian gasped. "I yie—"
Ma Goo squeezed one last time, fueled by days of torture, fear, and drugs.
CRUNCH.
Jian went limp.
Ma Goo dropped him.
The Sword Prodigy fell to the dirt like a sack of wet laundry. He was alive—barely—but his ribcage was a jigsaw puzzle.
Silence. Absolute, terrified silence.
Ma Goo stood over the fallen genius. He was bleeding from a dozen cuts. There was a sword wound in his wrist exposing the white of his bone. But his hand was still clenched in a fist.
"Winner..." The referee's voice trembled. "MA GOO!"
The crowd didn't cheer immediately. They whispered.
"He caught the sword."
"He took a blade to the wrist and didn't lose grip."
"That's not human. That's a demon."
Then, slowly, the chanting started. Low and rhythmic.
"Demon Bear. Demon Bear. Demon Bear."
Ma Goo raised his bloody arms. He didn't look happy. He looked insane. He looked at his broken wrist, at the blood dripping from his fingertips, and he laughed. A broken, jagged laugh.
Up in the VIP box, Elder Baek leaned back in his chair. He was the only one smiling.
"Anatomical rearrangement," Baek murmured to the other Elders, who looked sickened. "He moved the flexor carpi radialis behind the ulna. A crude surgery... but effective against slashing attacks."
"It's an abomination," another Elder spat. "That boy will be crippled in a year. His joints will grind to dust."
"Perhaps," Baek shrugged. "But today? Today he is the Champion of the Outer Sect."
Baek's eyes drifted down to the servant's pit.
The pit was empty.
Jin Ryeong had already left.
[System Notification]
[Quest Complete: The Leech's Host]
[Objective: Guide Ma Goo to become the Outer Sect Champion.]
[Rating: S (Ruthless Efficiency)]
[Rewards:]
1. 500 XP (Level Up Imminent).
2. Skill Book: [Basic Breathing Technique (Grade F)].
3. Title: [The Shadow Hand].
Jin Ryeong walked through the empty tunnels of the stadium. He could hear the chanting of "Demon Bear" echoing off the stone walls. It sounded like money.
He opened his status window.
[XP: 500/800] (Progress to Level 4).
[Item Acquired: Basic Breathing Technique]
He pulled the book from his inventory. It was a thin, tattered manual. Grade F. The lowest of the low. It taught you how to breathe in rhythm to recover Qi slightly faster than sleeping.
To most, it was trash.
To Jin Ryeong, who had relied on eating toxic slag to refill his mana bar, it was the Holy Grail.
"Finally," he whispered, clutching the book. "I can cultivate."
He didn't stop to celebrate. He knew what was coming next.
Ma Goo had won. Ma Goo was now an Inner Disciple.
And Ma Goo knew too much.
Jin Ryeong stopped at a disposal bin in the tunnel. He reached into his sash and pulled out the packet of Bone-Rotting Powder he had bought at the Ghost Market.
He looked at it.
'Do I kill him?'
Ma Goo was useful. He was a tank. He was a source of income.
But he was unstable. He hated Jin Ryeong.
'No. Not yet. A dead tank is useless. A controlled tank is valuable.'
He put the poison back.
He would need a stronger leash.
As he stepped out into the sunlight of the sect grounds, a shadow fell over him.
A disciple in black enforcement robes blocked his path.
"Jin Ryeong?"
"Yes."
"The Sect Leader has heard of the... unique... medical techniques displayed today. You are to report to the Registry. Your status as a servant is revoked."
Jin Ryeong's heart stopped. Revoked? Was he being kicked out?
"You have been promoted," the enforcer said, his face blank. "You are assigned as a Medical Assistant to the Hall of Hundred Herbs. Under the direct supervision of Elder Baek."
Jin Ryeong exhaled.
He had done it. He had clawed his way out of the mud.
He bowed low.
"This disciple obeys."
As the enforcer walked away, Jin Ryeong looked up at the towering Hall of Hundred Herbs on the mountain peak. It was a house of horrors, full of screams and failed experiments.
And it was his new home.