Old Man Logan

Many people assumed that those who practiced traditional Chinese martial arts never trained with the basic strength exercises of the Western system.

In fact, this kind of training was one of the most direct ways to test and improve a person's physical strength. Since ancient times, the Chinese had also used tools like stone locks and millstones to temper their bodies; their effects were much the same as those of modern strength-training equipment.

Chinese martial arts emphasized the application of force and were fundamentally a matter of technique. It was like an algorithm: input a certain amount of energy, transform it through a special method of exerting force, and release twice or even three times as much, multiplying the destructive power.

But what if the input was two or even three times greater to begin with? For thousands of years, ancient martial arts had studied how to amplify one's limited strength and overcome the strong with the weak. Later-developed styles like jujutsu and joint locks made particular use of the amplifying effect of leverage.

If a Mutant with exceptional physical gifts mastered Chinese martial arts, then with their superior physical foundation, they would certainly be more destructive than a human fighter of the same level—perhaps by a wide margin.

However, over the years, Chinese martial arts had long since become intertwined with an abstruse culture and philosophy. It wasn't only foreigners, burdened by enormous barriers of understanding, who struggled to grasp their mysteries; even the Chinese themselves rarely had the aptitude to glimpse the hidden doors of the martial Way. This had, to some extent, contributed to the decline of martial combat arts.

And James Howlett—the Chinese martial arts grandmaster Bai Feng in his previous life—was an inconceivable anomaly, a chance convergence of countless impossible conditions. He had made the summit of martial arts more elusive than ever.

After twenty sets of squats and deadlifts with maximum weights, followed by a series of other strength-conditioning exercises, James staggered into his weighted vest, added a hundred kilograms of lead, and officially began the day's training.

Only by pushing his abundant stamina and strength to their limits could he sense the force that penetrated deep into his muscles and bones as he practiced his forms. James no longer confined himself to any martial arts school. He might use Taijiquan's hammering techniques with the footwork of Baguazhang, or pair Xingyi's Beng fist with the Yu Step of the Earth-Shrinking Technique.

He had reached the pinnacle of technique. James had a feeling that once he reached the realm of mastery, his martial arts training might enter an entirely new stage, one that no longer bore any trace of the Chinese martial arts he had once known.

The clock in the secret room told him that nearly five hours had passed since noon. James slowly came to a stop, gently shaking out his muscles and bones as he relaxed his skin and closed his pores. The sweat, ready to burst forth as steam, gradually settled. His breathing sank to his lower abdomen, to his dantian. Then he let out a long, sharp breath. It sounded like a white wave, making the flames in the brazier dance. Two streams of air slowly rose to his temples, and he gathered his strength.

From his initial warm-up strikes, through strength conditioning, and finally his martial arts practice, he had remained naked, yet not a single drop of sweat had escaped. This was one of the essentials of internal martial arts: the skin and hair had to be trained.

The long stone staircase wound upward. The bookcase in the study, lined with all kinds of rifles, slowly swung open. Dressed and composed, James stepped out and went downstairs to eat.

Victor had not found any new unusual traces in the forest for a long time. Ever since that extraordinary discovery in late autumn last year, he had kept an eye on the changes in the woods. Sadly, the "monster" capable of causing such destruction seemed to have left for good and never appeared again.

Relying on the instincts and intuition of a beast, Victor vaguely felt that it was one of his "kind," and he was certain they would meet someday. More than a century later, scholars studying Mutant Genes would call this instinctive, species-oriented urge the "Beast-Type Mutant Colony Effect."

Mutants with close blood ties or the same beast-type Mutant Gene naturally felt a deep, instinctive affinity for one another. It was the same pack instinct that allowed wild animals to hunt and survive together. This instinct drew them closer and made them rely on one another.

At the same time, the way animal groups were organized meant they had to have a leader—the king of their hunting grounds. So this desire to draw close to and depend on one another was deeply contradictory: in the end, they would have to fight to decide who ruled the group. Predators at the top of the food chain usually hunted alone or became the "alpha wolf." Few would ever accept living beneath another.

Victor was desperately searching, both mentally and physically, for his "kind," for his own "pack." His powerful Mutant abilities meant that, in the future, he would be known as Sabretooth—and that he could coexist with his fellow Mutants only by becoming the king of beasts...

After dinner, Vane, the butler, brought James letters from members of the Howlett Family in the United States. They described in detail the recent John Brown uprising and the various circumstances surrounding Republican leader Abraham Lincoln. After carefully reading them in the study, James considered the matter for a moment, then wrote a reply and gave instructions for the next steps in their plans.

The opening salvo of the American Civil War was about to be fired.

Night fell deep and still. The Canadian winter night was so quiet it seemed to have lost its hearing. Heavy snow blanketed the vast Rocky Mountains, while logs in the fireplace of Mr. Howlett's bedroom crackled softly, burning at just the right pace. The room was warm but not stuffy.

James sat cross-legged in meditation on the thick Persian rug in the left corner of the room, beside the fireplace. Flames danced across his handsome face. Being with his grandfather made him feel at ease. In this world that wasn't his own, he needed something to hold on to, some bond to keep him from feeling so lost.

"Cough, cough... cough, cough, cough!"

Mr. Howlett coughed fitfully and struggled to turn over. Hearing the noise, James opened his eyes, got up, and went to the bedside. He rubbed his grandfather's back, then held out a cup of warm water and let him sip twice. The old man seemed unusually energetic. He motioned for James to help him sit up and lean against the bed.

"Ah... cough, cough, cough... I'm fine, Jamie. I'm fine. I'll sit for a while. It's a good chance to talk with you." He shifted briskly against the pillows his grandson had arranged, settling into a comfortable position.

"These past few days must have made you uncomfortable, having to spend every night with an old man like me and handle the servants' work."

"You're joking again. These things aren't for someone else to do." James sat beside Mr. Howlett and lit the oil lamp. The old man's gaunt face had taken on a hint of ruddy color, and he seemed to have regained some of his vitality. In his cloudy eyes, James could just make out a glimmer of the keen, profound light they had once held.

Instead, he began to feel uneasy. Flustered, he answered his grandfather.

"Ah... I couldn't speak for a while. I was in a daze, but I could still tell you were here with me every night. Feeding me, bringing me water, washing me, helping me to the toilet... When you get old, you're afraid of being a burden to your children, but you can't bear to have them leave. Knowing it was you by my side... well..."

Mr. Howlett rambled on, sharing with his grandson the things he had kept in his heart for so long. The more James listened, the heavier his heart sank. It felt as though invisible hands were twisting it, inch by inch.

"Grandfather... please, don't talk anymore. Save your strength and get some more rest." He tried, almost pleading, to interrupt Mr. Howlett. The old man tightened his grip on James's hand.

"I know where I am in life. If I miss the chance to say some things, there may never be another." He drew a slow breath, then continued. "You're smart enough, and more capable than I am. I won't waste time telling you what you should and shouldn't do. Whether this family prospers or declines, what matters is that everyone stays safe!"

James nodded, gently stroking his grandfather's hand.

"I'm only worried that you're too proud and solitary. I know you've never been willing to trust anyone, even as a boy. I can see it. But remember this: no matter how strong a lone wolf is, it can't defeat a lion. Only a pack can be invincible! You need to build your own 'pack' to weather whatever storms lie ahead. Don't carry everything alone."

"I'll remember, Grandfather."

"A family's roots don't lie in blood, but in what it passes down—in its spirit and convictions. Anyone who believes in you and stands with you can become part of this family. Sharing the same blood doesn't mean sharing the same heart! The only thing I want to entrust to you is the Howlett Family. I want the family I began to carry on. That's my only wish."

James nodded firmly. "Don't worry. The Howlett Family will endure!"

"And one more thing... Even if bloodlines aren't everything, you should still have plenty of children! I won't live to see you have any, so don't overthink it. Have as many as you can. This world is vast enough to hold all those lives..."

Mr. Howlett kept adding one thought after another for another ten minutes. Gradually, he grew as frail as he had been before, and his strength ebbed away. It seemed he had fallen asleep. James helped him lie down, then knelt beside the bed, holding the old man's hand, his face pressed against his grandfather's hand. With his keen senses and powerful hearing, he felt the old man's heart stubbornly beating, slowly, steadily...

Then, little by little, it fell silent.

This extra chapter is for everyone who supported the signing and sent tips, as well as those who voted with monthly and recommendation tickets. Thank you all. Hugs all around.