Neigong Sparks to Life? Yeah, Nose and Tongue Get Nerfed

The indigo-purple bowl clutched in Jinhyuk's hands trembled faintly.

A bizarre steam rose endlessly from within, mingling the acrid scent of medicinal herbs with the fishy reek of monster blood.

The price for the system-forced engraving rank-up was brutal.

The storm of reckoning had already scoured his bone marrow and lifespan once before.

It left Jinhyuk's body gaunt—not quite mummified, but skeletal.

His ashen face, sunken eyes, and protruding joints proved the agony had pushed beyond mere physiological strain into the realm of raw survival.

Thanks to the gruel Dok-an had force-fed him through that hellish transformation, he avoided instant death or a corpse-like husk.

But the energy his rebuilding body craved still gnawed at him like thirst scorching his guts.

"What're you starin' at like an idiot? That freakish energy eatin' your body is quiet for now, so fill your gut already! Scrape it clean—even the dregs! This is Great Snow Bear essence blood, squeezed out by old Hwang gamblin' his own lifespan!"

Dok-an's single eye flashed bloodshot red as he prodded impatiently.

Jinhyuk tried to swallow dryly, but his tongue stuck fast to the roof of his mouth.

His throat burned like it'd been scraped with rough sandpaper.

His vision flickered constantly from severe anemia.

"No, old man... I didn't notice when I chugged it in a daze earlier, but now? This visual's no joke. What flavor even is this? Made to eat people or what? Ugh, this'll kill me. If I get gut rot from this, you takin' responsibility? Nah, forget food poisoning—I'll need my stomach pumped. My insides are burnin' up!"

Jinhyuk spat Korean through cracked lips and tipped the bowl, gulping the last of the bloody gruel in one go.

Gulp, gulp!

"Urk! Hack! Gack! Cough! Cough! Gurk!"

As the final drop slid down his throat, Jinhyuk plunged into the hallucination of molten lead pouring into his esophagus once more.

"Gaaah! Hot! Aaaah! My stomach's flipping again!!! Ah, my guts are on fire!!! Hey, got any antacids?! Somethin' for heartburn—anything!!!"

Whoa, shit... Earlier the pain had me zoned out so I powered through, but sober? This is straight-up poison! Feels like shoving a hundred—no, thousand—times spicier jjambbong straight into my gut! My esophagus is melting and fusing shut! Hey, System! This safe or what?! You verify this crap?!

Jinhyuk's screams tore at the ceiling of the command chamber.

But the outpost courtyard buzzed with the clamor of Cheonrang Company members sorting Han Noya's supplies and prepping dinner.

Especially the 200 tech team cooks assigned to kitchen duty—they shuddered before the precious ingredients Han Noya left and the monster meat from the hunting squad.

"Hey! Separate the snow boar's fatback and render the lard! Salt the snow deer's short ribs with sansho pepper and grill 'em over the hearth!"

"Flying Tiger Chef! When do we add the sansho, star anise, and ginger from Han Noya?"

"Now! Roast the sansho to draw out the oil, then toss in snow rabbit meat for 'Pepper-Numb Rabbit Stir-Fry'! It'll numb your tongue with that sharp kick!"

"Add it moderately to the bone broth from the snow bears! We're makin' a rich tonic soup you won't see even in the Central Plains!"

Under the direction of the 'Flying Tiger Chef'—former head cook at a famed Luoyang inn—the kitchen-savvy Cheonrang members moved like clockwork.

This wasn't mere survival rations.

Central Plains authentic cuisine was being reborn in this frontier outpost.

Thick snow boar meat sizzled, oozing juices over flames.

Snow rabbit meat fried with spices, wafting a numbing aroma.

Rough northern monster flesh met Central Plains recipes and Han Noya's spices—transforming into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠delicacies fit for kings.

Hwang-yeonggam sidled up unnoticed, clamping a heavy hand on Jinhyuk's shoulder, and bellowed urgently at Dok-an.

"Dok-an! Time to straighten this kid's twisted meridians! Leftover energy'll rampage without direction—turn into poison! You take the left pulse! I'll drive it from the right!"

Dok-an's fingers flashed like lightning.

Crack! Crack! Thud! Thud!

Impacts on Jinhyuk's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spine and chest meridians echoed in the chamber.

His freshly rebuilt nerves, hypersensitive, registered each strike as thousands of needles piercing deep.

In this hour-long hell, the lingering demonic residue of the Blue Ice Wolf deep in his body clashed with the fresh Great Snow Bear energy—lashing out in final frenzy.

A hallucinated beastly roar battered his ears.

The overwhelming yokai nature writhed, tainting the purified bear energy savage once more.

The two forces turned his veins into a battlefield, colliding fiercely.

"Urgh! Ah, hot! No—cold! Hey, System! You said it was done! Why still hurtin', you bastard! Aaaah! Somebody help! I'm dyin'!!! Mom!!!"

Jinhyuk shrieked in Korean, but the pain raged on.

Veins writhed like worms under his skin, bursting and reforming.

Pssh! Psssh!

Steam hissed from repaired skin pores.

The engraving's forced graft let bear essence seep like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lubricant between bones and muscles, settling in.

Faint cracks in bones ground grotesquely as they fused.

Torn muscle fibers knit with sickening pops, shaking his brain.

Black, foul ichor oozed stickily from his pores.

Finally, after purging all waste, only a fingernail-sized cluster of faint energy remained deep in his lower abdomen.

Jinhyuk collapsed spread-eagled on the command chamber floor, utterly spent.

His body was a mess of expelled waste, but inside? Clearer than ever.

The heavy pressure crushing his chest was gone.

Yet his expression turned strange.

He closed his eyes, focusing on his lower belly—the dantian.

Uh...? No way... this...?

The system had dismissed it as mere 'surplus energy cluster'.

But to Jinhyuk, who'd devoured countless wuxia novels, webtoons, and games in his room? This faint, warm 'qi' pulsing in his gut meant something else entirely.

Neigong. Real neigong! That fingernail seed of inner power from novels—it's inside me! Holy shit, am I actually becoming a wuxia hero?! This real?! Somethin' warm rollin' in my belly?! Jackpot!!! Now I can shoot palm winds or somethin', right?

Jinhyuk's eyes welled red.

Job failures, private academy woes—all past irrelevancies.

To this bone-deep wuxia fanboy, 'qi in my body' beat any reward.

Even if it was useless scraps now, it was his badge: first step as a true martial artist in this brutal world.

"...Hic, sniff. Old man... I'm seriously touched. It's real... really inside me. Ah, tears comin'. Mom, I got neigong. For real. Whoa, insane. Legend starts now."

Dok-an, watching the whole time, clicked his tongue.

"Look at this fool. After that hell, weepin' over scraps? Pain scrambled your brains. What a freak."

Jinhyuk staggered up.

Power surged through him—yet a weird hunger gnawed.

Just then, a hearty shout announced dinner ready in the inner courtyard.

He stumbled to the door.

Under pouring moonlight, the Cheonrang outpost swam in a sea of aromas.

Rich, numbing scents seeped into the chamber.

The Flying Tiger Chef presented the commander's share: premium 'Red-Braised Snow Deer Ribs', 'Braised Snow Boar in Brown Sauce' (swapping pork for boar), and a bowl of liquor.

"Commander, you worked hard. Han Noya's rare spices with the tenderest snow deer cuts, and boar instead of pork for the braise. Dig in."

Jinhyuk swallowed hard, picking up a piece of braised boar and popping it in.

Chew... chew... crunch...

His face froze instantly.

He chewed again.

The chewy-yet-tender texture registered.

But no flavor. No savory fat. No numbing sansho. Not even salt.

"...Wait, no taste? No smell...? Hey, System! What's this?! Explain! What happened to my tongue! Feels like chewin' rubber!"

"...Hey, System. You messin' with me right now?"

Jinhyuk's lips quivered.

"Me... gustatorily blind! No taste, no smell—olfactorily crippled! What the hell!!! You shitty system!!!"

"No! This can't be! My red-braised ribs! My pepper-numb rabbit!!! Those guys are in flavor heaven with grease on their lips, and I'm gnawin' rubber bands!!! Hey! Answer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me! This the price for neigong?! Cost-performance sucks!!!"

Jinhyuk wailed, pouring and chugging the liquor bowl.

The fiery burn hit his throat.

But no boozy aroma, no grain huskiness. Just hot bland water.

"Ughhh! Real smell-blind! No scents at all! You bastard System! Mockin' my private academy days too?! What's the point of wuxia protag status with a rubber tongue!!!"

The Flying Tiger Chef asked, flustered.

"Commander? Seasonin' off? Or not to your taste...?"

"Nah! Seasonin's perfect! Your skills don't lie! But my tongue! My nose!!! Uwaaaah! I'm losin' it!"

Jinhyuk clawed his hair, spinning in place.

Others savored life's finest feast: 'Kuh! Flying Tiger Chef delivers!', 'Sansho's killer!'—cheering.

The commander who'd made it all possible wept in the corner.

Man, life's rigged as hell. Hyped for neigong and engraving up, then it steals my one healing spot? No internet, no TV in this world—you're goin' too far!

Jinhyuk dropped his chopsticks, face blank.

Rubber meat lingered in his mouth.

"...Taste-blind. Smell-blind... Did I endure that gruel for this?"

He dragged his exhausted body and hollow tongue to a corner of the chamber.

Candle shadows stretched long over the world's saddest flavorless profile on the ledger.

Outside, cooks' aromas and laughter rang through the night.

To Jinhyuk? Just tales from a distant land.