In the Outer City, within a residential compound serving as one of the Black Tiger Hall's strongholds.
Li Mazi stood in the courtyard, listening to the muffled screams and groans coming from the side chamber. His brows were tightly furrowed into a deep crease.
After a long while, the door creaked open, and an old physician with a medicine chest on his back and graying hair and beard emerged.
He clasped his hands toward Li Mazi, his expression grave.
"Master Li, all the bones have been set," the physician said in a low voice.
"But... whoever did this used their force with remarkable precision—and remarkable cruelty, striking specifically at the weakest points of the joints.
Even if the bones heal in the future, those arms... will likely never be able to exert much strength again. Wielding weapons will be even more difficult."
He had put it tactfully, but the meaning could not have been clearer. Those three men's arms—
were essentially ruined for good. In a place like the Black Tiger Hall, without martial strength, their fate was easy to imagine.
Li Mazi nodded expressionlessly and pulled out a small piece of broken silver from his robes, pressing it into the physician's hand. "Thank you for your trouble, sir."
He then gestured to the side.
"Someone, escort the doctor back to the main hall."
The physician accepted the silver and offered his thanks. Just as he turned to leave, however, his steps halted. After hesitating, he looked back and said quietly,
"Master Li, there is something I am not sure whether I should say."
Li Mazi raised his eyes. "Please, speak."
He was fairly courteous to this old physician. After all, these days,
everyone could get injured. A physician with decent medical skills who could set bones was worth building