One's Own Bodhisattva

"Worship your own Bodhisattva?..."

Commander Chen's last sentence, like a red-hot iron nail, hammered fiercely into Wang Quan's ears, echoing sharply in his muddled mind, burning his soul until it trembled. But I won't worship clay or wooden statues, nor kneel to gods and Buddhas in the sky! he roared silently in his heart. A surge of Blood Qi, mixed with grief and ferocity, rushed straight to the crown of his head. These bones that haven't been broken yet, this unswallowed resentment in my heart – they are my greatest gods!

Since this world forces people to become demons, and the road ahead is so dark that I can only grope my way forward, since neither living on my knees nor dying on my feet is what he wants... then I'll use this knife in my hand, strike by strike, to carve out a bloody path! Who cares if it's a Monster, a demon, or these rules that eat people without spitting out the bones!

"Master Wei," Wang Quan's voice was hoarse and dry, breaking the silence and interrupting Wei Dayong's trance, as if he were lost in some memory. "I want... to learn something real. Cultivation Methods, Martial Skills, anything. Next time I encounter a Pig Demon like that dog, I can't... rely on risking my life and luck every single time." He spoke with difficulty, each word squeezed out as if from wounded lungs, but his eyes were fixed on the empty space ahead, filled with an almost obsessive determination.

Wei Dayong didn't answer immediately, seeming to lack the strength to even speak. He merely tilted his head slightly, his tired yet still sharp eyes gazing deeply at Wang Quan. The look was complex and hard to decipher, containing scrutiny, assessment, and perhaps a trace of something faint and ineffable.

"Cultivation Methods..." Wei Dayong's voice was barely audible, his breathing short. "Commander Chen might have... the most basic ones. But the things that can truly transform you and let you step into the door of Cultivation... are kept in the Great Sects, in the Imperial Armory, hidden away in the secret vaults of those Great Families. We... are not worthy." He paused, coughed twice, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth again. "However... if you want to see, after we get the medicine, I'll... take you to the Library. There are some old things there... cough cough... maybe, they'll be a little useful."

Wang Quan's heart sank, but immediately a more stubborn resolve surged. Not worthy? Then I'll fight until I am! Don't have it? Then I'll go snatch it! Go seize it! This thought, like a wildfire, leaped up in a dark corner of his heart, burning him all over.

The two fell silent, supporting each other as they shuffled through the cold courtyard shrouded in morning mist, their steps deep and shallow, moving towards the small house emitting a strong, bitter smell – the Garrison's medicine room.

The door of the medicine room was half-open. Inside, the light was dim, mixed with the scent of herbs, mold, and another indescribable, pungent odor, like a beast's lair. A hunched figure was busy among a pile of bottles and jars. Hearing the movement, he suddenly turned around.

It was an old man with messy, graying hair. The wrinkles on his face were so deep they could trap flies, but his eyes were frighteningly bright, gleaming with an abnormal light in the dimness, darting around and sizing up the two entering. Most striking was his left arm – it definitely did not belong to a human! His forearm was covered in a layer of dark green, rough, rock-like scales. The knuckles were thick, and his fingertips were curved, sharp black claws, hanging quietly at his side, forming a bizarre and terrifying contrast with his other withered, chicken-claw-like human hand.

If you think this book is good, remember to add it to your bookshelf to avoid losing it next time.

Wang Quan's pupils contracted sharply, his gaze fixed on the grotesque arm as if drawn by a magnet. A Demon Race arm? Growing on a human body?

"Heh heh..." The old man noticed Wang Quan's gaze. Instead of dodging, he grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellowed, broken teeth. His laughter was hoarse and unpleasant, carrying a madman's pride. He even raised the scaled arm as if to show off, opening and closing his fingers, producing a grating sound like bones rubbing together mixed with the scraping of hard objects. "What? New brat, never seen the world?" He stepped closer, the pungent smell intensifying. His cloudy eyes flickered with madness and an extremely uncomfortable excitement. "Looks good, doesn't it? Honestly, this thing is much more useful than the original! Strong, tough, ordinary swords and sabers only leave a white mark! Want to... try it too? Find a suitable Monster, chop it off, and attach it! Guaranteed to make you feel amazing! Heh heh heh..."

"Madman Xu!" Wei Dayong coughed sharply, interrupting the old man's increasingly outrageous words. Though his voice was weak, it carried an undeniable sternness. "Put away your crooked theories and heretical sayings! He can't do it, and you shouldn't have designs on him either!"

The old man called Madman Xu pouted, seemingly disappointed, but his shifty eyes still roamed over Wang Quan, lingering for a moment on his knife-wielding right hand and the dried bloodstains on his face. He muttered, "What a shame... he's a good seedling, full of killing intent. If he had a powerful one attached, maybe..."

"We're here to get medicine!" Wei Dayong emphasized, but his body swayed uncontrollably. Wang Quan quickly braced him. "Trauma Medicine, Bone-Setting Paste. Look at our injuries and give us what we need. Quickly!"

"Tsk, what's the hurry, you're not dead yet." Madman Xu rolled his eyes, but still turned around. His movements were surprisingly agile. That strange hand quickly rummaged through piles of bottles and drawers, accurately pulling out several different porcelain bottles and small packets, tossing them onto the dirty counter. "Here, external application, internal use. That's all the Bone-Setting Paste there is, use it sparingly, for when you set bones, don't waste it. The water is over there, help yourselves." He pointed to a large, filthy water vat in the corner.

Wei Dayong motioned for Wang Quan to get the medicine. Wang Quan released his supporting hand and stepped forward, gathering the medicine bottles and packets. As he passed Madman Xu, the strange smell of herbs and Monster became even stronger, and the scaled arm, so close now, was even more visually impactful. He could even see dark red stains in the gaps between the scales, whether from medicinal juice or... something else.

"Kid," just as Wang Quan was about to turn back to support Wei Dayong with the medicine, Madman Xu suddenly lowered his voice again, speaking in a near whisper, with a seductive tone. His cloudy eyes stared intently at Wang Quan. "Don't listen to that Wei fellow. What's wrong with humans? What's wrong with Monsters? If it's useful, if it keeps you alive, it's a good thing! In this world, if you don't get stronger yourself, are you waiting for others to save you? Dream on! If you want to live, to live like a person... sometimes, you can't be too human. Heh heh..." After speaking, without waiting for Wang Quan's reaction, he hummed a tuneless ditty and turned back to fiddle with his bottles and jars.

Wang Quan's body stiffened slightly. He didn't look back, just silently put the medicine in his embrace, then walked back and propped up Wei Dayong, who could barely stand.

"Who... is he?" Wang Quan asked in a low voice after they left the medicine room.