The Masked Visitor
Faint blue threads of dawn seeped through the window, wrapping the garden in a gentle glow.
Ouyang Qiangang shook his head as he recalled the strange encounter of the previous night.
His meeting with Hwata, the Sacred Hand physician said to hold the medicine of the gods—and the man's transfer of everything he knew to him—still felt as unreal as a dream.
To meet a divine physician in a single night and inherit everything from him... it feels far too surreal.
"It is reality, Doctor. And that reality has left you two precious legacies. It is time we examined their contents in detail."
At Akasha's calm voice, Ouyang Qiangang gathered his focus.
He carefully unfolded the two booklets Hwata had left behind. A single pass of his eyes was all it took for the vast wealth of information absorbed through his optic nerve to be stored in Akasha's database, and moments later it began to be systematically analyzed inside his mind.
The Life-and-Death Sutra was, without exaggeration, a treasure house of medicine.
Among its contents, the Yin-Yang Divine Pill was the key that could cure his Nine Yin Severed Meridians at the root. The problem was the ingredients required to make it: the inner core of the Solar Blaze Carp, a creature said to embody the sun's essence in legend; Millennium He Shou Wu, an herb that had absorbed thousands of years of time; and Azure Hollow Stone Oil, the crystallized yin essence of heaven and earth.
More than half of the list was made up of legendary treasures that sounded impossible to acquire by name alone. For now, then, it was nothing but a pie in the sky.
"We should treat the Yin-Yang Divine Pill as a long-term goal. In the meantime, however, if we harmonize the Life-Death Soul-Restoring Needle Art recorded in the Life-and-Death Sutra with your Transcendent Formless Divine Art, Doctor, we should be able to suppress the cold accumulated in your meridians and accelerate the timetable for a full cure."
Next came Akasha's dispassionate analysis of the dozen-odd martial arts recorded in the Sacred Hand Secret Codex.
"I judge the internal cultivation method and the fist-and-palm techniques to hold no value beyond reference. The principle behind the cultivation method cannot compare to your Transcendent Formless Divine Art, Doctor, and the power of the fist techniques falls below the Gale Conflagration Palms as well."
Still, these three will be quite useful.
Where Ouyang Qiangang's gaze had stopped was on the Sky Meteor Movement Art, the Flash Cicada Step, and the Dragon-Binding Golden Web Hand.
Unlike the other arts, all three had been devised with an utterly singular focus on practicality. The Sky Meteor Movement Art existed to reach distant patients quickly; the Flash Cicada Step to close the distance in an instant with a patient raving in a fit; and the Dragon-Binding Golden Web Hand to subdue patients who ran wild.
"Because these three arts were devised to minimize internal energy consumption, a few refinements should make them fully usable even with your current internal energy, Doctor. Executing them perfectly will be difficult, of course."
So internal energy is still the bottleneck.
"Even so, for arts with these effects, requiring only half a gakja of internal energy to deploy at the Twelfth Star realm is remarkably efficient. It speaks to how extraordinary Hwata's talent was."
No-ya was a genius too, after all.
"That is true. In any case, combining these three arts with your exceptional dynamic vision and my tactical support system will be of considerable help to your survival, Doctor."
With the analysis complete, Ouyang Qiangang carried the two booklets out into the garden.
If I'm seen holding these books, my name could reach the ears of those tracking No-ya. And then it won't just be me in danger—the Ouyang Clan and Bamboo Forest Manor will be too.
"What do you intend to do?"
Destroy them.
Ouyang Qiangang tossed the booklets into a brazier set at one side of the garden. He watched as the ancient parchment volumes were swallowed by flame and reduced to black ash in moments.
Then, all at once—
Gooseflesh erupted across his entire body, and a cold current came creeping up his spine. Even without turning, he knew someone had appeared behind him. And not just anyone—a figure carrying a killing intent more terrifying than any he had ever experienced.
A long, deep shadow caught in the moonlight draped over Ouyang Qiangang's body like some colossal cloak.
His heart nearly dropped out of his chest, but he turned around with perfect composure. There stood a tall, burly figure in black robes and a mask, staring down at him with eyes cold as ice.
The masked man asked in a careless tone.
"Where is the old man of the Sacred Hand?"
Rising slowly to his feet, Ouyang Qiangang answered with a rebuke instead.
"I don't know who you are, but when calling on another's home, the very basics of etiquette are to come through the front gate and seek the owner's leave. Perhaps you ought to go back and learn that much first?"
The black-robed mask let out a chilling, incredulous laugh.
"Heh heh heh. Remarkable! With nerve like that, no wonder you managed to hide the old man and falsify the traces."
At those words, Ouyang Qiangang's heart plummeted.
How did he know? We erased every trace perfectly, with Akasha!
As if reading his thoughts, Akasha's urgent voice rang through his mind.
"Doctor, I am activating the psychological stabilization protocol. This man's observational and deductive abilities exceed our projections. It is also possible he employed a specialized tracking art unknown to us. He is a dangerous individual."
Instantly, Ouyang Qiangang's startled heart settled like a windless lake. At the sight of those calm eyes, a flicker of intrigue rose in the masked man's gaze.
Oblivious or indifferent, Ouyang Qiangang kept talking with Akasha.
If we fight, do you think we can win?
"We failed to detect his approach entirely until he was directly behind you. Judging by that, a frontal confrontation is impossible."
The eyes of the black-robed mask glittered with a slow, viscous killing intent as they fixed on Ouyang Qiangang.
"Boy, I'll grant you one last chance. Answer me obediently, and I'll let you keep your life—though not your body whole. But if you keep that mouth shut to the end... I'll leave the rest to your imagination. Speak. Where is the old man of the Sacred Hand?"
Ouyang Qiangang clenched his teeth inwardly, but outwardly his voice held not a tremor of agitation.
"I truly have no idea what you're talking about. Accusing the innocent has its limits, you know. A common thug who never came through the gate threatening the master of the house in his own garden—seeing men like you striding about in broad daylight, I begin to understand just how far the empire's laws have fallen."
At his provocative words, Akasha's anxious whisper echoed in his mind.
"Doctor, there is no need to provoke him further."
Drawing this out is the real danger. Better to be struck first and strike back after—doesn't the saying go like that?
"But judging by his bearing, there is a very high probability he will treat you roughly. He may not stop short of outright torture."
Worry bled through Akasha's voice.
Then that's a risk we take.
"Hah... understood. I respect your decision, Doctor. From this moment I will prepare response protocols for every conceivable scenario. Please brace yourself for psychological shock."
Already done.
Ouyang Qiangang answered shortly and steeled his resolve.
Just then, the black-robed mask, as though his patience had finally run out, spoke coldly and flicked a finger lightly through the empty air.
"A boy who won't listen to reason, then."
Shwit—
A sinister current of yin-wind energy shot out and, in the space of a heartbeat, sealed all twelve of the blood vessels running through Ouyang Qiangang's body with perfect precision.
"Let's see whether that proud mouth of yours can still run, even after you've tasted this pain."
What he unleashed was Tendon-Splitting, Bone-Wrenching, known throughout Murim as one of its most brutal methods of torture.
Crack!
Pop-pop!
Agonizing pain crashed over him, as though his bones were being twisted apart and his muscles torn from the bone.
Collapsed like a sandcastle crumbling away, Ouyang Qiangang wanted to scream—but with even his mute acupoints sealed, he could not force out so much as a whimper. Before he could have counted to three, red blood was trickling from all seven of his orifices.
"Doctor, I am blocking 98% of pain signals. I will deploy nanobots to minimize damage to muscle and skeletal structure, but the majority of your internal energy will be consumed in the process."
Along with the regret in Akasha's voice, the pain that had felt as if his whole body were being crushed faded in an instant.
The masked man, who had been watching for a while, flicked his finger again.
Shwit—
The Tendon-Splitting, Bone-Wrenching halted, and his mute acupoints were released.
"Still remember nothing, boy?"
Mouth flecked with bloody foam, Ouyang Qiangang answered through chattering teeth.
"I... I really don't know... anyone called the old man of the Sacred Hand......"
"You look sickly enough to drop dead tomorrow, but you've got more spine than I expected. Let's see how long you last."
The masked man resumed the Tendon-Splitting, Bone-Wrenching.
"……"
The black-robed man looked down at Ouyang Qiangang's body writhing in agony, unable even to scream, and frowned behind his mask.
Even a Murim veteran hardened by brutal training could not endure half of the Tendon-Splitting, Bone-Wrenching. Yet he doesn't lose consciousness—so he's made of sterner stuff than he looks. But he truly seems to know nothing about the old man of the Sacred Hand. A waste of time.
Having lost all interest in Ouyang Qiangang, his eyes kindled with a chilling, emotionless killing intent. The way one deals with a bothersome insect, he thrust his palm unhesitatingly toward Ouyang Qiangang's chest.
Whooooosh—!
With a detonation that seemed to freeze the surrounding air, a black, frigid vortex of current whirled around his palm.
It was the destructive tension of the Remnant Soul Yin Gale Palm, yin-cold qi condensed to its utmost.
In that very instant, Akasha's urgent voice thundered through Ouyang Qiangang's mind.
"The opponent's tension matches the yin-cold qi data from the strike that gravely wounded Hwata at 100%. Forming nano-particle shield across the chest surface at maximum output. Emergency reinforcement of rib and pericardial muscle-fiber structures to protect internal organs. From this moment, ALL energy is being redirected to survival!"
BOOM—!
Something burst from Ouyang Qiangang's chest with a dull, ominous crushing sound.
The yin-cold qi riding the black-robed mask's Remnant Soul Yin Gale Palm bored into Ouyang Qiangang's body like floodwater bursting through a collapsed dam.
"Massive inflow of yin-cold qi confirmed! Absorption protocol engaged immediately. Doctor, focus your mind. From this moment you must run the Transcendent Formless Divine Art at maximum efficiency and convert every ounce of the incoming energy!"
Akasha's cry was the signal flare.
The tens of thousands of nanobots that had formed his defensive shield across his chest instantly wove themselves into an intricate energy-routing circuit. The destructive yin-cold qi pouring in, guided flawlessly by the nanobots, flowed safely toward his dantian without damaging his other organs in the slightest.
At the same time, the Transcendent Formless Divine Art surged in a fierce whirlpool within his dantian, breaking down the incoming yin-cold qi and straining out every last trace of the dank, sinister energy within it.
And then it began converting it all into pure, clear, cold True Yin Qi.
The entire process unfolded in the space of a single heartbeat.
Of course, the pure physical impact carried by the tension could not be entirely neutralized. Ouyang Qiangang's body was flung backward like a toy and tumbled across the ground.
Crash— Thud—
The black-robed mask, watching the scene with a satisfied smile, did not spare Ouyang Qiangang another glance. Flicking his figure lightly, he vanished into the darkness.
A short while later.
Scree— Scree-scree—
In the gathering light of dawn, sharp whistles rang out here and there—and then quickly faded into the distance, rushing away from Bamboo Forest Manor.