Jiang Gui's Ambition

Over the next few days, Jiang Gui occasionally wandered around Yang City.

After all, he had money in hand now. The chicken, duck, fish, pork, and other meats he had once only dreamed of eating—he had not missed a single one these past few days.

And what he saw and heard during these days, all that Yang City had to offer, made Jiang Gui feel a touch more respect for the Zhang Family.

The Zhang Family had many tenant farmers, yet from what he had learned, the Zhang Family master only collected thirty percent of the harvest as rent.

Thirty percent rent—what kind of concept was that?

The most conscientious landlord Jiang Gui had ever seen in Shu Land still took sixty percent of the harvest.

Then there was the Government Office, peeling away layer after layer. In the end, if the tenant farmers could keep twenty percent for themselves, they would already be thanking heaven and earth.

Yang City's Zhang Family tenants were different. The Zhang Family only collected thirty percent rent, and even shielded them from all the Government Office's exploitation.

A great benefactor, a great savior, Duke of a Hundred Virtues.

Jiang Gui's impoverished mind could not think of any words to describe the Zhang Family's "kindness."

And after several days of wandering, Jiang Gui discovered that it was not only the tenant farmers in Yang City whose lives were exceptionally good.

Even ordinary street vendors and shop assistants lived very well. Their monthly wages were high, while trade goods were extremely cheap.

Before the natural disasters struck Shu Land, a jin of fine rice cost ten copper coins. In Yang City, it only cost five, not to mention after the disasters.

Not only that, Yang City had something called the "City Construction Department," which constantly renovated and built homes for the city's residents free of charge.

There was also the "City Management Department," which constantly inspected the city's sanitation and cleared away rubbish.

And so on—many departments he could not understand, things he had never seen before.

Jiang Gui was a rough man. He could not understand why Yang City was so prosperous, why the City Construction Department did such things, or why there were no beggars, gangs, gambling dens, brothels, and the like to be seen in Yang City.

But instinctively, Jiang Gui felt that all of this was inseparable from the Zhang Family.

"Yang City, Zhang City! Great benefactors!"

"If every place in this world had great benefactors like the Zhang Family master, how wonderful would that be?"

At that moment, Jiang Gui's awe and reverence for the Zhang Family knew no bounds.

Thinking of how, if his hometown had also had a great benefactor like the Zhang Family master, perhaps...

Perhaps he would not have had to flee famine for a thousand li, and perhaps his wife, children, and aged mother would not have...

For some reason, as he looked at bustling, prosperous Yang City and experienced that peace and harmony he had never known before, a desire was born in Jiang Gui's heart—to spread all of this to other impoverished places.

To ensure that this world would never produce a second him.

Several more days later.

The leisurely days did not last long.

After enjoying several days of peaceful living, Jiang Gui and the others were gathered together by the steward once more.

Then, led by the steward, they arrived at the small courtyard they had visited before.

Within the small courtyard, Jiang Gui and the other twelve stood in a respectful line.

Compared to several days ago, Jiang Gui and the others now looked noticeably better, their complexions improved by more than a little.

These days of rest had achieved some results.

A moment later, Zhang Ming appeared again, dressed in a long white robe.

"Young Master, I have brought this batch of Drug Trial Participants."

The steward spoke respectfully.

"Mm, I understand. You may leave." Zhang Ming nodded and waved him away.

After the steward left, he looked at the group.

"There is no need for you to be nervous. You have all heard some news these past few days—the mortality rate among Drug Trial Participants is not high.

"Furthermore, after the previous experiments, the technique has become increasingly mature, and the mortality rate is still declining. So you may set your minds at ease."

Hearing this, the group relaxed somewhat.

Jiang Gui asked at this moment.

"My lord, we... we... what are we going to do?"

Zhang Ming smiled faintly.

"You need not do anything. Just listen to my arrangements. You may think this is an experiment where nine die for every one who lives.

"But in my eyes, this is a stroke of fortune I am preparing to give you."

"A... a... stroke of fortune?"

Zhang Ming did not answer. Instead, he beckoned to the group.

"Follow me."

Jiang Gui and the others looked at one another. At this point, no one chose to run. Gritting their teeth, they followed.

They hurried onward.

The group passed through the rear courtyard and arrived at an inconspicuous little room there.

From the outside, the room looked utterly ordinary, no different from the home of an ordinary commoner.

What Jiang Gui had not expected was that its interior concealed a world of its own.

The moment they entered, several Armored Soldiers stood guard inside.

Behind those Armored Soldiers was the entrance to an Underground Fortress leading downward.

The group continued onward, descending deeper into the Underground Fortress.

They passed through a winding, twisting passage.

Jiang Gui estimated that they were now at least several dozen meters underground.

Only then did a vast subterranean space appear before them.

The moment they entered it, a blast of frigid air struck them head-on.

A glance around revealed that the surrounding walls had been cut from sturdy Granite, their rough surfaces exuding a primitive texture.

Clap clap—

Zhang Ming clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention.

"You will rest here for a while. I will go make some preparations."

"Do you see that room?"

He pointed to a closed Iron Door at the edge of the open space.

"When I call your names later, enter one at a time."

"Yes, my lord. Yes, my lord, we understand."

"Mm."

Zhang Ming nodded, then walked straight toward the room at the edge of the open space, guarded by the Iron Door.

Limited by the current level of technology, the room that was nominally a Laboratory—

Actually contained hardly any technological equipment.

Or rather, Zombie Skill—

No, the Cycle Devouring Art did not require many surgical instruments either.

As long as the meridians were adjusted, the Acupoints stimulated, the body's Vital Energy guided into circulation, and a unique Energy Circuit inscribed, the experiment would theoretically be complete.

Of course, that was only in theory.

Whether the inscription would proceed smoothly, whether mistakes would occur, what rejection reactions might happen afterward, and all sorts of other messy matters—none of that was known.

They could only rely on accumulated experience.

And that was precisely why Zhang Ming conducted human experiments.

Zhang Ming had a habit of tidying the Laboratory, so it was not messy. It was merely that, to ensure the experiment went smoothly and to avoid wasting test subjects through mistakes in small details—

Before every experiment, he would inspect and arrange every detail once more.

A moment later.

"Phew—"

After letting out a long breath, Zhang Ming steadied himself.

"Let's begin."

"The success rate in the previous experiments had already reached ten percent. This time, it will definitely be even higher."

"Of the twelve outside, at least two or three should succeed."

The success Zhang Ming spoke of was not merely surviving.

It meant having the Cycle Devouring Art circuit implanted within their bodies and allowing it to operate on its own.

Although each person's physical aptitude differed, causing variations in operating speed—

Success was success.

Among the few people who had luckily succeeded in the previous dozens of experiments—

In only a short time, their physiques had strengthened themselves from those of ordinary people to the level of Warriors who had trained for years, with bodies twice as strong as normal.

The one with the best aptitude and the most perfect compatibility—

Would have no problem reaching the physique of a Postnatal Martial Artist within half a year.

As for what level they could ultimately reach, Zhang Ming was not certain.

Coming back to himself, Zhang Ming took out the roster of the twelve people.

"Ding Mao."

A moment later, a skinny young man who looked somewhat quick-witted entered.

Ding Mao looked around fearfully and bowed respectfully. "My lord."

"Mm, relax. It will soon be—"

Before he could finish speaking, Zhang Ming's figure vanished in an instant before Ding Mao could react at all.

When he reappeared, he was behind Ding Mao.

A precise chop of the hand, using the least force possible, perfectly knocked Ding Mao unconscious.

"No helping it. This is the only way to anesthetize him."

Zhang Ming spread his hands and carried the test subject named Ding Mao onto the operating table.

The specially made surgical lamp was switched on, and the experiment officially began.

Time slipped away, second by second.

Several dozen minutes later, Zhang Ming wiped the sweat from his forehead and finally let out a sigh of relief.

"He has stabilized initially. What happens next depends on his own fortune."

"Excellent."

Zhang Ming did not know whether the test subject would successfully adapt afterward.

But at the very least, the test subject had escaped the penalty of death.

Since he had not died directly during the experiment, the chance of death during the following adaptation period was extremely low.

At worst, his body would conflict with the Cycle Devouring Art circuit, resulting in serious injuries.

Phew—

After exhaling deeply and taking a brief rest, Zhang Ming pushed Ding Mao, the test subject, into the inner room of the Laboratory to rest.

Holding the roster of the twelve test subjects, Zhang Ming—

Called for the next person again.

Several hours later.

Zhang Ming washed the blood from his hands. Thinking of the twelve experiments today, the corners of his mouth curled upward.

"Out of twelve people, only two died on the operating table."

"The mortality rate is already below twenty percent. A cause for celebration!"

Zhang Ming was not sure what the final mortality rate of this batch of test subjects would be.

But the declining mortality rate was already an undeniable fact, plain for all to see.

"I truly look forward to seeing how much compatibility the ten survivors will have."

Zhang Ming held extremely high expectations for the Cycle Devouring Art.