The World!

Fate rarely showed anyone mercy. Often, just when we thought we had already hit rock bottom, we were still far too optimistic. The cruelest thing was that she always left behind a sliver of hope—a hope that kept us going through a sea of misery, only to leave us drowning in regret.

At that moment, James was like a cultivator beset by a demonic trial. He should have been in a meditative state of emptiness and insight, yet his frustration at his helpless weakness twisted him into a furious, savage creature. His eyes snapped open, bloodshot. He slapped one hand against the boulder, flipped down in a somersault, and began madly unleashing every style of boxing he knew.

In his previous life, Bai Feng had studied under a secret Xingyi lineage. Besides the complete San Ti Shi stance and Five Elements Fist, he had learned the five rarely taught animal forms—Dragon, Tiger, Snake, Eagle, and Bear—as well as the Marrow Washing Technique, the supreme practice revered by every school of internal martial arts: Tiger-Leopard Thunder Sound!

After his boxing had reached the point of mastery, he had gone on to study the strengths of many schools, including internal Taijiquan and Baguazhang, and external Bajiquan. Though he could never learn secret arts like Great Toad Power or Heng Ha Sounds, he had nevertheless mastered the combat essentials of each style.

Panda had never seen his master so wild. In the late-autumn Lage Forest, fiery red leaves whirled through the air, swept up by the gale and the force of his fists. His feet traced the steps of Baguazhang, his body weaving and turning as he moved, while his fists and palms cracked through the air.

At times, he switched to Taiji's hammer techniques: Ban Lan Chui, Pian Shen Chui, and Pao Chui. His clothes billowed in the gusts, and each muffled impact sounded like a thick hide drum being beaten. He casually unleashed the Five Elements techniques—Pi, Beng, Zuan, Pao, and Heng Quan. The air cracked like thunder one moment, then rumbled like a distant storm the next. His shoulders, elbows, knees, and legs moved in time with his fists, all of them ringing with the power of peak Mingjin.

James paid no heed to his beloved horse's whinnies and struggles. At that moment, there was only a fire in his heart, a blaze that threatened to drive him mad. The turning of time and space, the great terror before the supreme power of heaven and earth, the bewilderment and dejection of finding himself in another world, the immense sorrow of knowing that a grave illness was coming and being powerless to resist it.

Never before had his boxing intent been so resolute, so determined to change the world. His soaring will to fight no longer seemed aimed at defeating an opponent who was supposed to be human. It was aimed at shattering every barrier of space and time, at smashing the wheel of fate!

Again and again, he poured out everything he had learned, tireless. By the end, he was no longer bound by styles or routines. There was only the purest attack! Everything was instinct—the fighting instinct humans possessed for struggle and slaughter.

James gradually felt a power stirring inside him. It surged along his spine, from the very tip of his tailbone, circulating like an electric current. His muscles, bones, and membranes, inside and out, seemed to connect as every pore in his skin sealed shut. Then he suddenly threw a plain, heavy punch.

"Thump!"

His flesh-and-blood fist sank deep into the boulder, more than two meters high, where he had been sitting moments ago. His hand was unharmed, but the boulder looked as though it had been struck by a battering ram. The fist-sized crater was damp, and cracks like a spiderweb spread inch by inch around it.

Anjin achieved!

James finally came to a gradual stop. He slowly drew back his hand and calmed his blood and breath, nodding to himself. His body's strength, now that it was healthy, far surpassed what he'd had in his previous life. Even if he had trained to Anjin in a healthy body back then, he could never have caused this much damage. At most, he would have left a pattern of cracks on the boulder. A surge of ambition rose within him, and all his earlier frustration and fury vanished.

"So what if I'm a cripple again? In this life, I'll not only reach Huajin once more, I'll also achieve Bao Dan, master Zuo Kua, cultivate Gang Qi, and attain Bu Huai! I'll see the limits of what the human body can achieve through training! I'll see this turbulent American Continent—and find out exactly what kind of world this is!" James's eyes blazed with fierce determination.

Suddenly, a scorching heat that seemed to rise from his very marrow spread through every blood vessel, nerve, muscle, and even cell in his body. The sensation was so familiar. That strange illness that struck two or three times every month had returned. And it was worse than ever before—agonizing...

James slumped to the ground, his body convulsing uncontrollably. The pain was so severe that he couldn't even force himself to resist as he usually did. He dug both hands deep into the soil, trying to stop them from shaking. Kneeling on the ground, James was drenched in sweat. His black pupils began to widen, their shape turning faintly oval, with a dim green glow.

An unprecedented pain coursed through both his arms, as though his bones were being ripped right out of his flesh. Long, wormlike ridges rose beneath his skin, spreading from his forearms to the backs of his hands, twisting and writhing. Tormented by the agony, James threw back his head and howled. His bloodcurdling cry pierced the sky, startling birds from the woods. They circled and shrieked above him.

The dark woods turned ghostly in an instant.

Panda lay beside him, trembling. James's frenzied boxing had only frightened him, but now he quaked with a terror as though a top predator were sniffing at his neck.

The fists he had thrust high into the sky were gradually covered in blackened veins.

"Pssht!"

A pair of bone claws pierced through the gaps between the bones in his hands.

Silence. Absolute silence.

It was as if the world had been muted; even the wind stopped breathing. The pain receded like a tide, leaving only waves of tingling itchiness in his body. A moment later, even that vanished, replaced by a comfort unlike anything he had ever felt.

James stared blankly at the six pale bone claws growing from his hands. For a moment, his mind went empty.

After a long while, he finally caught his breath. He studied the claws, his expression complicated.

Each of the six bone claws was at least twenty centimeters long, with the middle claw of each set a little longer than the others. Together, they were roughly as long as his forearms. They were as thick as thumbs, shaped like triangular pyramids, and ended in slender, slightly curved dagger points. Knotted ridges like vines ran along each claw.

"This is... this world, this world is..." James's muttered words came out almost like a groan. He didn't know whether to be glad that he had overcome his strange illness or troubled by the fantastical revelation that had just blown his mind.

"Logan, Victor... so it really is. I'm... Wolverine?" Details he had never connected before flashed through James's mind: Victor's strange fingernails, the surname Logan, and a story that seemed vaguely familiar.

In his previous life, he hadn't been a fan of Marvel movies or cartoons, but he had seen a few Marvel films and videos. As luck would have it, he had once watched the first Wolverine movie. He remembered the boy who killed his biological father, and his brother Victor, who was also a mutant.

"So fate hasn't fundamentally changed the original story..." James recalled that whether it was John Howlett or Thomas Logan, despite the differences in how things unfolded, both had died in the end. He remained kneeling on the ground, quietly thinking it through, recalling everything he might know about this world.

So far, the world seemed to be based on the movies; at least, what he knew matched what he had seen. But he didn't know whether this was a world with only Mutants, or a vast universe where half of all life would eventually be wiped out by a snap.

James suddenly laughed and shook his head. His earlier boldness and grand ambitions felt laughably small in a world like this...

A long time passed. The sun had set, and the shadows beneath the branches gradually disappeared. James got up and walked over to Panda. He gently shushed him, tenderly stroking his long face and soothing him with soft words. The horse, still just a colt, had truly been frightened out of his wits today. He stuck out his tongue and licked James's cheek twice, as if checking whether his master still smelled the same.

James lightly hopped onto his back. "Panda, let's go home!"

Feeling his master urge him on, the horse galloped off at once, as if eager to get back to his stable and have a good meal, nuzzle that pretty white mare, and soothe his frayed nerves.

As he bounced along at a gallop, James smiled, then gradually began to laugh aloud, even letting out a few wild, boisterous shouts. His manic laughter echoed through the valley as they raced on.

Suddenly, he seemed to remember something and muttered, "I forgot to bring O'Hara a rabbit..."