Gilan had only just come out of the movie when a needle-sharp pain shot through both his arms.
His head throbbed with a tearing pain as well.
"Ugh..." Gilan gritted his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath.
He tried to lift his hand, but for a moment, he could barely manage it.
After a while, the headache finally began to ease.
"Mr. Snowy Owl, are you all right?"
Miss Sparrow had somehow come to stand in front of him and asked with concern.
Gilan looked up from the sofa and saw Mr. Oystercatcher standing beside Miss Sparrow. He was gently rubbing his seemingly unharmed face, as though the pain from the movie had carried over into reality.
"I'm all right... That monster landed a hit on me at the end. My hands were wrecked in the movie."
He spoke calmly.
Miss Sparrow pressed her lips together, her voice full of apology.
"I'm sorry. I'm the one who put everyone in danger this time... and made you risk your life to hold them off, Mr. Snowy Owl."
"You don't need to apologize." Gilan shook his head. "None of us could have been prepared for an unknown, mysterious power. Just as you said, Miss Sparrow, we're a team. We should look out for each other."
"You're a true gentleman, Mr. Snowy Owl."
Miss Sparrow was touched by his words and spoke softly.
Beside her, Mr. Oystercatcher laughed heartily and patted Gilan on the shoulder.
"Don't worry. We were all injured in the movie, but in reality, we'll only feel phantom pain. A few days of rest and we'll be fine."
"You're still as optimistic as ever, Mr. Oystercatcher."
Mr. Stork came over then, carrying his cane.
Gilan turned to look. Mr. Stork seemed to be in decent shape, though his left arm, pierced by an arrow in the movie, hung limply at his side. His condition looked much like Gilan's.
As for Miss Seagull, she was leaning back on the sofa with her eyes tightly shut, her brows slightly furrowed, and her face deathly pale... Clearly, the gunshot wound she'd suffered in the movie had seriously affected her body in reality as well.
"Everyone should go back to their rooms and get some rest. We'll discuss things over dinner."
Mr. Stork glanced at his watch. It was 10:45 in the morning. They had spent only a little over half an hour watching the movie, but they had already eaten a full meal in it. The intense feeling of fullness made it hard for them to eat again, so he made the suggestion.
"Mm." Everyone nodded in agreement.
Miss Sparrow and Mr. Oystercatcher, who were in better shape, helped Miss Seagull to her feet and took her to Room 205 on the second floor.
Gilan trailed behind them. Looking back at the storeroom, where Mr. Stork was putting away the Black Lake film reel, he asked, "Mr. Stork, what would happen if we turned off the projector during a viewing?"
"The viewers' minds would be seriously damaged."
Mr. Stork glanced back at him and shook his head.
"That's why Old Jerry has to stay on watch and wake us up himself... If we simply turned off the projector, the movie's sudden interruption would plunge us all into a deep coma. We might never wake up."
"I see." Gilan pondered this.
At the same time, Mr. Stork's trust in Old Jerry surprised him.
If Old Jerry had malicious intentions and turned off the projector while they were watching, wouldn't they all be done for?
No, not all of them.
At least he wouldn't be.
*
*
*
Gilan went up to the third floor and returned to his room, 301.
He forced his aching hands to take off his hat and coat, hung them on the coat rack, then dropped onto the red storage bench at the foot of the bed and let out a long breath.
After a while.
Gilan summoned the iridescent colors in his eyes. The colored number in the corner of his vision read "21."
He tried to meditate on the White Cross Body-Forging Technique. The crooked, twisted colored number trembled slightly and glowed more brightly, as though responding.
So I really have enough... enough to push myself into the next stage of training!
Gilan smiled.
Then he raised his trembling hand. A warped, shifting glow of color appeared, and an old leather notebook materialized in his palm: Scribe Espi's secret journal.
Gilan once again pored over the secret technique recorded within—the White Cross Body-Forging Technique of the Healing Knights.
First, he reviewed the section on the first stage, "Mucus," reinforcing what he had learned and refreshing his memory. Then he continued to explore the second stage, "Yellow Bile."
There are more exercises, and the breathing is faster. The combinations are complicated... According to the journal, the secret medicine needed for the second stage is even more precious. Even within the Healing Knights, one has to earn merit before being granted any.
Gilan took a deep breath, gritted his teeth against the phantom pain in his arms, and stood up. Following the journal's instructions, he began performing all sorts of strange movements and poses, some of which could even damage his joints and ligaments.
He clasped his hands behind his back, crossed them over his lower back, crouched halfway, and leaned forward. Then he slowly lifted one leg and rested it across the knee of the other. As the pressure on the supporting leg increased, his taut knee gave a faint creak.
Creak... creak...
Gilan struggled to control his breathing, exhaling for more than ten seconds before taking a short, two-second breath in. Then he exhaled again, making the next exhale a second longer.
After three cycles, his face was flushed, and he felt as though he were about to suffocate.
And this was only the beginning.
After that, Gilan had to switch legs, then shift the weight onto his arms, chest, back, and waist, all while following an even more complicated breathing rhythm, until he met the requirements of the Body-Forging Technique.
After completing one full set, Gilan lay on the floor, gasping like a dying fish.
His arms throbbed with excruciating pain.
The exercises weren't even strenuous, yet his heart pounded like a drum, and sweat poured off him.
These simple movements, arranged in a mysterious sequence and paired with a specific breathing rhythm, brought about subtle changes in Gilan's body.
Soon, symptoms similar to those he'd experienced during his first practice of the Body-Forging Technique began to appear...
A sharp pain suddenly stabbed beneath the lower edge of the ribs on his upper right abdomen. The muscles in his limbs cramped, and his whole body began to spasm uncontrollably.
"Gah—" Gilan cried out in pain, then immediately clenched his teeth.
His eyes were bloodshot, and the veins stood out on his skin.
He knew this was the result of going without the secret medicine. An ordinary person would probably be paralyzed from the neck down, suffer a ruptured gallbladder, and have their organs fail.
But he was no ordinary person.
Iridescence!
Gilan roared in his mind.
The colored "21" in his eyes dropped, then in a single bound returned to "1."
After consuming a full 20 points of Mystic Energy, the strange sensations in Gilan's body eased. The sharp pain beneath the lower edge of his upper-right ribs turned into a warm feeling that flowed through his entire body, leaving him hot all over.
Crack...
Clack...
The joints throughout his body made a series of rapid noises in unison, like cookies snapping apart.
The sounds continued for nearly half a minute before fading.
Gilan remained lying on the floor for about ten more minutes, his clothes soaked through.
Smack!
He pushed himself up with his right hand, no longer troubled by phantom pain, and rose straight to his feet as smoothly as a swinging pendulum.
Gilan felt the tremendous change in his body and was overjoyed.
Unable to contain himself, he leaped straight into the air—
Thump!
With his legs spread, he seemed to walk through the air. His body traced a perfect arc, effortlessly completing a backflip before landing steadily on his feet.
As expected, after entering the second stage, "Yellow Bile," my flexibility, agility, balance, and jumping ability have all improved dramatically.
Gilan clenched his fist and punched the air in front of him.
Whoosh!
His fist shot forward in a straight line with a sharp whistle.
It wasn't enough for him, so he threw a flurry of punches, alternating between his arms.
The wind from his fists howled fiercely.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
My physique and strength have also been enhanced a second time. I'm at least twice as strong as before!
Gilan abruptly stopped and stood ramrod straight.
At full strength, my punch should be close to 1,000 pounds now...
His eyes shone, and a powerful intuition stirred within him.
If he faced that detective, Granny, again, he would need only three moves—
He could beat him to death within three moves!