Bone, Part One

Jodio's days were full. He usually got up at eight on the dot and started his morning run in the sunshine. By the academy's usual standards, five laps around the village was only a starting point. Jodio still found it pretty funny. That bastard Little Huo's homeroom teacher was something else, making combat Soul Masters and Healing Soul Masters alike run ten laps carrying weights. What kind of person came up with a rule like that?

On second thought, it was probably meant to put the students in their place. Anyone who showed enough grit could likely pass. But considering that teacher's high expulsion rate and low graduation rate, Jodio still figured the old hag had a sadistic streak.

He got up at eight and ran a few laps to warm up, then wolfed down several large steamed buns with Korea's national banquet dish: spicy pickled cabbage. It made for a pretty good breakfast. After that came classroom lessons until around eleven. For Jodio, they were mainly a chance to broaden his knowledge and learn a little theory.

He rested for an hour at noon, then began physical and practical training in the afternoon. Shrek Academy followed a two-week schedule: classes ran from Monday through Friday morning of the following week. On odd-numbered afternoons came physical and combat training. Even-numbered afternoons were for other kinds of cultivation, such as playing chess with Lu Qibin, learning heat control from Teacher Shao Xin, or running simulated Soul Master battles—in other words, fighting on paper.

Afternoon training ended at five, and the rest of the day was theirs to spend as they pleased. In practice, though, the teachers often got lazy. They would put a few students through some physical training together, decide they had done enough, and dismiss them early. Shrek's teaching methods never failed to leave Jodio speechless. He had long suspected that the students who failed to graduate weren't lacking in talent; they simply hadn't been taught enough.

In the evening, he would spend some time at a clinic in the city, then at the Great Soul Arena. Once he had dealt with Passione's affairs, the day was usually over. That was Jodio's full daily routine. His Soul Power grew steadily, as did his understanding of Stands, and the organization continued to expand. But all of that merely helped him work toward his goal. The thing he truly wanted to find remained elusive, with hardly a clue to show for his efforts.

"Boss, here are the organization's accounts for this month. Please have a look."

Jodio glanced at the ledger and immediately lost interest. A quick look over the accounts was enough for him. Even Polpo, who had been so loyal to Diavolo, had secretly stashed a few things away, hadn't he? As long as his subordinates didn't take too much, Jodio could turn a blind eye.

"How is the search going?" Jodio asked quietly, propping his cheek on one hand.

"Well... there's been no progress. We tried buying books from the local Spirit Hall branch to learn more about those secrets, but found nothing substantial. The age when 'Saints' supposedly existed was hundreds of thousands of years ago. There simply aren't many records left." Several beads of cold sweat ran down the subordinate's forehead as he spoke in alarm.

"Not a single book records anything?" Jodio closed the ledger with one hand and looked at him.

"Th-there are a few vague myths and legends, but nothing else we could find." The subordinate took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

"Ah..."

Irritated, Jodio rose and turned to look out the window. Three years. Over those three years, they had collected every sort of book, from Ten Secrets I Had to Tell About the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and A Guide to the Heave‌n Dou Empire's Pleasure Houses to Amazing Spirit Beasts, Shrek Killer, When the Dungeon Appears, Secrets of Human Nature, and Dark Psychology. Yet there was nothing about Saints or the "bone."

Jodio knew that actively hunting for it might only make things go wrong. Only at the right moment could he truly seize it. But Fang had already appeared, while the other thing still had not. He had to wonder whether his guess had been wrong—whether Fang's appearance had nothing to do with it after all.

"Boss, forgive my incompetence." The man immediately dropped to one knee and pleaded for mercy.

"Hmm. This isn't your fault. What I'm looking for is too unusual." Jodio realized that his oppressive presence had unsettled the man working for him. He promptly reined it in, along with his frustration, and stopped letting his impatience show.

"I was too hasty. None of this is your fault. Thank you all for your efforts," Jodio said slowly, choosing his words.

"It's no trouble to serve you, Boss." The man lowered his head at once and placed a hand over his chest.

"Your task hasn't changed. Keep doing everything you can to gather information about 'Saints' and the 'bone.' This bone isn't a Spirit Bone. It's... Anyway, spread the word throughout the city. Tell everyone that if they have information like that, true or false, as long as it sounds plausible, I'll owe them a favor. I'll do one thing for them, provided it doesn't cross my boundaries." Jodio sat down again and rested his hands on the sofa's armrests.

"Boss, forgive me for being blunt, but it's hard to search accurately with only those three keywords."

The subordinate had worked up the courage to ask, but regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. What a joke. Something a man like Jodio was searching for, even to the point of owing someone a favor, could hardly be ordinary! It was like asking an emperor which memorials he had approved today, asking a general where he planned to attack, or asking that old monster Araki why he still looked so young!

I'm dead, the subordinate thought in terror.

"Your name is... Banana, right?" Jodio recalled. Passione had two or three hundred people now, and remembering all their names would be difficult for most people. For Jodio, it was just manageable.

"Banana, do you believe in miracles?" Jodio stood with his hands on his hips, the backs of his hands pressed against his waist, and asked at an unhurried pace.

"Miracles...?"

"Yes. Miracles. Real miracles."

"A miracle is an extraordinary event or birth. If a level-ten Soul Master defeated a Titled Douluo, we would call it a miracle. If someone was born from a dead body, we would call it a miracle. If a corpse rose and walked again, we would call it a miracle. If someone foretold a natural disaster, we would call that a miracle too."

"The gods of legend are too far removed from us, and so-called divine acts have become too vague to judge. In the history we know, the only thing we can believe in is miracles. Everyone believes they can happen. Someone favored by many miracles is blessed by nature, destined for their protection and for extraordinary deeds," Jodio explained.

"A person who achieves extraordinary deeds under the protection of miracles is called a Saint. One trait stands out above all others: after death, a Saint manifests twice, causing at least two miracles." Jodio suddenly bent down and crouched face-to-face with Banana.

"Go and find one. Show me you can do it, and I'll give you a future beyond anything you can imagine." Jodio patted him on the shoulder again, smiling.