Experiment

Mr. Yin finished his instructions and no longer glanced at Wei Dayong, as if the man were already dead. He turned back to continue fiddling with his bubbling earthenware pot. The Daoist boy, though wearing a robe, had vacant eyes and moved mechanically, more like a trained tool. He responded expressionlessly, "Yes, Mr. Yin."

The Daoist boy walked to the wall and pulled a rope. A pulley system turned above, and several chains with iron hooks descended. Two other guards stepped forward, roughly shackled Wei Dayong's limbs with the iron hooks, stretched them taut, and suspended him in the air in a spread-eagle position, a foot off the ground. The wounds were pulled, and Wei Dayong let out a suppressed groan, cold sweat pouring down him like rain.

The Daoist boy brought over a peculiar device. One end was a sharp, hollow bone spur connected to a leather tube. The other end of the tube led to a large glass jar filled with a viscous, dark red liquid that still pulsed faintly. This was the Tiger Monster Blood, emanating a violent demonic aura. The bone spur on the other end was connected to a smaller jar, which was empty.

"Begin the bloodletting," the Daoist boy's voice was flat and emotionless.

One guard picked up the bone spur connected to the empty jar and, aiming at Wei Dayong's wrist artery, plunged it in fiercely!

Wei Dayong's body trembled violently. Warm blood flowed gurgling through the bone spur and leather tube into the empty jar. The chill of blood loss quickly spread, his face turning visibly pale at an alarming rate, his consciousness beginning to blur. He could clearly feel his life draining away with every drop of blood.

Just as his vision began to waver and he was about to lose consciousness, the Daoist boy swiftly inserted the bone spur connected to the Tiger Monster Blood into a vein in Wei Dayong's other wrist.

"Inject the demonic blood."

Instantly, a searing, wild, untamed power surged violently into Wei Dayong's body through his veins! Completely different from his own nearly depleted human blood, this demonic blood was like magma. Wherever it passed, his veins felt as if they were being torn apart and melted by fire! The indescribable agony caused Wei Dayong's previously weakened spirit to let out a piercing wail, his body convulsing uncontrollably, the chains clanking loudly.

Human blood and demonic blood mingled and clashed within his veins, eroding each other. It felt as if countless snakes had burrowed beneath his skin, writhing and bulging madly, his complexion shifting eerily between pale, bruised, and dark red.

This was not the end. The Daoist boy then took out a small black gourd covered in talismans. He carefully peeled off the talisman at the gourd's opening, muttering incantations. A cold, twisted, malevolent black mist drifted from the gourd's opening, forming a blurry, constantly shifting ghastly face that let out a silent howl. This was the soul of the Nightmare.

The Daoist boy guided this black mist, slowly pressing it towards Wei Dayong's brow.

"No... don't..." Wei Dayong's last vestiges of consciousness screamed wildly, but he lacked the strength to even move a finger.

The moment the Nightmare's soul touched his brow, Wei Dayong felt as if his head had been pierced by a red-hot iron skewer! It wasn't physical pain, but a direct tearing, polluting, and chilling sensation affecting his soul! Countless chaotic, evil, and painful thoughts flooded his consciousness like a tide, threatening to completely devour his human reason. Terrifying illusions appeared before his eyes, and his ears filled with venomous curses.

The ferocity of the Tiger Monster Blood burned his flesh, while the chilling malevolence of the Nightmare Soul corroded his spirit. Wei Dayong hung in mid-air, his body spasming violently from the clash of these two extreme forces. Broken, inhuman gurgles emanated from his throat, his pupils dilating and contracting erratically, on the verge of complete collapse.

The Daoist boy paid it no mind, merely picking up a wooden board and charcoal pencil to calmly record:

"3rd quarter of the xū hour, injected Tiger Monster Blood (peak Soul Sculpting Realm). Subject exhibited severe rejection, clear bloodline conflict."

"4th quarter of the戌 hour, introduced stolen-age Nightmare Soul. Spirit platform stimulated, mental fluctuations intense, visual and auditory hallucinations occurred."

"Vital signs: Abnormal body temperature increase, muscle spasms, dilated pupils..."

Meanwhile, tonight's patrol was personally led by Commander Chen. Perhaps it was due to the presence of this unfathomable, scarred captain, but the route, which usually yielded a few scattered Corpse Ghosts and monsters, was surprisingly quiet tonight. Not even a trace of abnormal, chilling wind stirred. A suffocating aura of grim determination permeated the entire squad. No one spoke; only the heavy sound of footsteps and the faint rustle of weapons and armor echoed in the dead silence of the night. The team members were more vigilant than usual, daring not to slacken in the slightest.

The patrol ended, and they returned to the Garrison's training grounds. Commander Chen dismissed the other team members, calling back Shi Zhu, who was about to leave.

Commander Chen, hunched over, his facial scar appearing particularly ferocious in the dim torchlight, spoke in a hoarse, low voice: "Shi Zhu, go find Wang Quan and Wei Dayong. They're missing from night patrol, do they think they can rebel?"

Shi Zhu's heart tightened. He quickly bowed and clasped his fists: "Commander Chen, Head Wang and Brother Wei might have been held up by some urgent matter. I'll go find them right away." He didn't dare say more, accepting the order and retreating hastily. However, an ominous shadow fell over his heart. Wang Quan's skills were unfathomable, and Wei Dayong was no easy opponent. The simultaneous disappearance of both men was no ordinary event.

In the eerie cellar.

"Wake up! Hey, you've got a tough life, not even dead yet." A slightly mocking voice sounded in Wei Dayong's ear. It was the expressionless Daoist boy, poking his suspended body with a cold iron rod.

Wei Dayong was jolted awake from a deep coma by excruciating pain. His dim vision gradually focused. Every inch of bone, every fiber of muscle in his body felt as if it had been crushed and then haphazardly reassembled. The indescribable agony surged through his remaining consciousness like relentless waves. Even more terrifying was the feeling of two completely different, ferocious powers clashing and tearing within him: one scorching and violent, like flowing magma; the other cold and venomous, like a thousand ants gnawing at his heart. His body seemed to have become a battlefield, no longer his own.

The Daoist boy recorded data on the wooden board, speaking as if to himself, or perhaps to Wei Dayong: "The willpower of the Mortal Transformation Realm is indeed strong. I've tried implanting demonic blood and Nightmare souls simultaneously before; they either went mad or died within a night. You, however, are enduring."

A faint flicker of fluctuation crossed Wei Dayong's dim eyes. The instinct for survival and the obsession with saving his daughter were the only pillars supporting him from complete collapse.

Just then, the heavy iron door of the cellar was pushed open, and Mr. Yin's hunched figure appeared at the entrance, bringing with him a stronger scent of medicine and blood.

The Daoist boy immediately bowed and reported: "Lord Yin, this subject's physique and willpower are both excellent. The demonic blood and Nightmare soul have been implanted for over six hours. Although his body is rejecting them fiercely, his vital signs are stable, and his consciousness has not been completely lost. Overall assessment... is rather good."

Mr. Yin paced forward, his cloudy yet sharp eyes scrutinizing the hanging, near-death Wei Dayong from head to toe, as if examining a nearly completed work. A subtle curve appeared at the corners of his withered lips, and he said hoarsely, "Good, a fine specimen. It seems we can proceed to the next step."

He paused and instructed the Daoist boy, "Go retrieve the heart of the 'Soul Sculpting Realm' Black-striped Tiger from the ice cellar."

A hint of surprise flashed in the Daoist boy's eyes, but he immediately obeyed. Moments later, he returned with a jade box in his hands, emitting an intense chill. The jade box opened to reveal a fist-sized, dark red heart covered in strange black patterns, still pulsing faintly! The powerful demonic energy emanating from it caused the air in the cellar to stagnate.

Mr. Yin extended his withered, bird-like hand, his fingernails long and sharp. His hand seemed not to be made of flesh and blood, but of some kind of dark gold metal, gleaming with a faint light. Without any warning or tools, he brought his right hand together like a blade and, with lightning speed, plunged it directly into Wei Dayong's left chest!

"Squelch!"

The sound of blade piercing flesh, tearing fascia, and breaking ribs was clearly audible! The unimaginable pain caused Wei Dayong's body to arch backward violently, and a non-human, piercing scream erupted from his throat, his eyeballs nearly bulging out of their sockets!

Mr. Yin's hand precisely entered Wei Dayong's chest cavity and grasped the still stubbornly beating human heart. He muttered incantations, and strange black and red runes appeared between his fingers, coiling around Wei Dayong's heart. With a twist and a pull of his wrist!

"Ah!" Wei Dayong's scream was cut short. His body convulsed violently, and blood gushed from the massive wound in his chest and his mouth.

A warm, but rapidly losing vitality, human heart was casually tossed onto the ground by Mr. Yin, still trembling slightly.

The next moment, Mr. Yin grabbed the air with his left hand. The black-striped tiger heart, radiating cold and demonic energy, flew from the jade box into his hand. Without even looking, he accurately placed the demonic heart into Wei Dayong's hollow chest cavity!

"Fuse!" Mr. Yin uttered a low command and formed hand seals. Countless black and red runes surged like living things into the wound in Wei Dayong's chest, coiling around the tiger heart. The runes flickered, forcibly connecting the demonic heart to the severed blood vessels and nerves. A powerful force also suppressed the demonic heart's natural rejection and stimulated its vitality.

The entire process was brutal, swift, and utterly devoid of humanity. Wei Dayong had long since fainted from extreme pain, only his body convulsing unconsciously.

"It's replaced," Mr. Yin withdrew his hand, took out a black cloth, and calmly wiped the blood from his hands, as if he had just completed a trivial task. "Administer the 'Blood-Melting Soul-Suppressing Pill' at regular intervals to suppress backlash. Record the details of the demonic heart fusion, the extent of Nightmare soul erosion, and all bodily changes."

"Yes, Lord Yin," the Daoist boy replied respectfully and began skillfully applying a thick layer of pungent black ointment to the horrific wound on Wei Dayong's chest.

Mr. Yin cast one last look at Wei Dayong, hanging there, his life or death uncertain. There was no pity in his eyes, only the cold interest of a researcher. He then turned, his hunched figure disappearing into the shadows behind the iron door.

In the cellar, only the sizzling sound of the ointment melting and Wei Dayong's barely audible, intermittent groans of pain remained.

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