An Idea

After he got home, Xiang Kun reviewed his recent training plan and made a few changes. For now, he would stop going out at night to "patrol the streets" all night. There were plenty of other ways to train his hearing and sense of smell.

Besides, after drinking blood this time, his hearing and sense of smell had improved dramatically. Even when they were somewhat suppressed during the day, they were still exceptionally sharp. Even in a busy downtown area, he wasn't bothered by the clamor or the jumble of scents.

Just like today: he had used his sense of smell in the middle of a busy district to track down a suspect who had gone to some effort to disguise himself.

Xiang Kun revisited the files on his computer where he recorded the various data about his bodily changes, adding more disguises and encryption. In fact, he had already taken some precautions. An ordinary person who opened his computer wouldn't easily find those files; they didn't appear in the quick access bar or browsing history.

He also made sure to automatically clear his internet traces each time he closed his browser.

But this level of concealment was practically useless against a computer expert who already suspected something was wrong and wanted to find evidence. They could easily dig up those files.

After what had happened today, especially after someone discovered his nighttime "patrols," Xiang Kun felt he had to be even more careful.

He further packaged, disguised, and encrypted the folder containing several files that documented his bodily changes. It now looked like a DLL file in an application folder. Opening it also required a password. Though the password was only six digits, entering it incorrectly twice would run a script Xiang Kun had written, overwriting the documents inside with gibberish.

Xiang Kun had been thinking all along about what might happen if his mutation were exposed. But there were simply too many possibilities, and no comparable cases to look to.

In the end, he decided that until he discovered other "patients," he would do everything he could to disguise and conceal himself, and make sure no one found out.

Then Xiang Kun took a knife and made a cut on his fingertip, then started the timer.

The wound was only a few millimeters long. Blood welled up and hung from it like a little red fruit.

After wiping away the blood, Xiang Kun watched the wound, taking a photo at regular intervals, just as he had before.

Before his previous blood-drinking, Xiang Kun had discovered that his wounds healed far faster than an ordinary person's. So, with the idea of "targeted training" in mind, he had spent an entire night "harming himself."

Later, however, he shifted the focus of his training to his hearing and sense of smell, so he hadn't scheduled any more targeted training.

Since waking from the deep sleep after his last time drinking blood, Xiang Kun hadn't had a chance to check whether his healing ability had changed.

Thirteen minutes later, the wound on Xiang Kun's finger had almost disappeared.

Then Xiang Kun tried a few other places, cutting wounds of varying depths and lengths into the arm of his other hand and his thigh. They all healed in thirteen minutes, with a margin of error of no more than five seconds.

He could confirm that his ability to heal wounds had improved. In the tests before his last blood-drinking, his wounds had taken a steady fifteen minutes or so to heal after sunset.

What Xiang Kun wasn't sure about was whether his targeted "self-harm training" had contributed to the improvement in his healing ability.

After considering it for a while, Xiang Kun decided to include "self-harm training" in his targeted training plan for the next few days.

Since he wouldn't be going out to "patrol the streets" at night, he could train at home.

This time, he would use more extreme methods of "self-harm" to further explore and train his healing ability.

As for his daytime training plan, he was hesitating over whether to take up martial arts. Officer Chen thought he had trained since childhood and had a background in martial arts or fighting, but Xiang Kun had never trained in martial arts at all. He had no fighting experience.

Whether it was the time he took down the thug who attacked a young couple downstairs with one kick and one punch, or the way he knocked out that blond suspect on the street today in a single encounter, Xiang Kun had mostly acted on instinct—or simply reacted without thinking.

Though both men had been armed with knives, Xiang Kun hadn't felt the slightest threat when facing them. He hadn't felt afraid or nervous at all. With his current dynamic vision, it was easy to predict their movements. Add his overwhelming strength, and he didn't need any fighting techniques.

In terms of strength, reflexes, speed, and the like, he was clearly already near the peak of human ability. If he counted his enhanced senses, he had probably surpassed an ordinary human.

Could learning fighting techniques help him make better use of these physical advantages?

After thinking it over, he decided to check out the boxing gym downstairs from his fitness center tomorrow. He'd heard that a coach there had once placed in the top three at a provincial sanda competition. He could see whether he could sign up for a short-term course.

After making his training plan, Xiang Kun couldn't help feeling pressed for time. If he didn't drink blood, he didn't need to sleep, which meant he had twenty-four hours a day to use. But between two times drinking blood, he really only had five days he could freely allocate.

By his calculations, he should feel hungry again in two days, on August 5.

And on August 4, he had already arranged to go hiking with Tang Baona and the others. According to what Tang Baona had said, the trip would almost certainly take up at least an entire day.

That meant he had very little time left in this blood-drinking interval to use targeted training to "guide" his mutation.

Sunday, August 4, 6:30 a.m.

Yang Zhen'er drove her MINI to pick up Tang Baona and then Xiang Kun.

After the "misunderstanding" on the street two days ago, and after seeing Xiang Kun "instantly kill" an armed wanted criminal with his bare hands—and learning that he was the bald "expert" from the video—Yang Zhen'er's attitude toward him had changed noticeably.

The identity of this unemployed, middle-aged programmer had suddenly gained an air of mystery.

But when she saw Xiang Kun coming downstairs in a pair of athletic shorts and white sneakers, with a multifunctional computer backpack on his back, Yang Zhen'er still couldn't help rolling her eyes.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Yang Zhen'er asked after they got in the car and exchanged greetings.

Xiang Kun paused. "Didn't you say we were going hiking? I thought I should wear something loose."

"Forget it," Tang Baona said. "We're not planning to spend the night on the mountain this time, and the trail isn't that difficult."

Yang Zhen'er didn't comment further on Xiang Kun's clothes. As she turned the car around, she asked, "Mr. Xiang, didn't you buy a house? Why are you living here?"

The building Xiang Kun had just come out of was clearly self-built. It was obvious he was renting.

"The place I bought isn't here. It's on the outskirts. I rent here because it's closer to the company I used to work for," Xiang Kun replied casually. He wasn't surprised that she knew he had bought a house. He had learned while chatting with Tang Baona the night before last that Yang Zhen'er was her best friend and currently lived with her. It was only natural that she knew the "blind-date requirements" Wang Han had passed along.

"Is your house still being built?"

"It was finished a long time ago. I rented it out."

"Why buy a house and rent it out, then rent a place yourself? The conditions here seem pretty ordinary." Yang Zhen'er couldn't understand.