Ye Mo's hand was still stuck in the broken window of the police car.
Blood dripped from between his fingers, each drop hitting the Vibranium plate with a soft thud. He didn't move, his eyes fixed on Loki in mid-air. The blow had left his right shoulder weak, and the gash in his left arm was bleeding again, but he could feel something different inside his body.
The cells are moving.
It wasn't the cold, impersonal upgrade notification of a system; it was a real, churning sensation, like countless tiny needles piercing his veins. The areas of his skin that had just been grazed by the magical beam were slowly retracting, the edges of the cracks glowing with a faint pink light.
Loki floated in the air, the tip of his scepter still shimmering with lingering green light. He looked down at Ye Mo, his gaze changing. It was no longer the condescending mockery, but rather a scrutiny, as if he were looking at this opponent for the first time.
"Your body..." he began, his voice a few decibels lower than before, "Isn't it completely rotten?"
Ye Mo ignored him.
He pulled his left hand out of the broken window, shook it to make the blood flow more smoothly. He knew the Regeneration ability was still working, but it was unstable. Each healing was like burning his life, with spasmodic pain shooting through his nerve endings, but he couldn't stop.
Stopping means death.
He slowly straightened up, his knees a little weak, but he managed to hold on. The concrete beneath his feet had cracked in a spiderweb pattern, the result of the shockwave from taking the beam of light head-on. He looked down at his chest—where a bowl-sized wound had been blasted open, now only a dark red scab remained, the muscles beneath still twitching.
"You're saying I rely on other people's abilities?" He looked up, a wide grin spreading across his face, blood seeping from his teeth. "But you've forgotten, monsters can crawl out of garbage dumps too."
Loki narrowed his eyes.
The scepter was suddenly raised, and the fifth beam of light instantly condensed, thicker and brighter than before, with purplish-black ripples around its edges. This was no ordinary energy shock; it was a killing move mixed with mental shockwaves, specifically designed to break through non-magical defenses.
A beam of light was emitted.
Ye Mo did not dodge.
He's waiting.
He waited for that familiar tearing sensation, waited for his body to react automatically. Just as the beam struck his chest, he gritted his teeth and took a half-step back, not to dodge, but to distribute the impact throughout his body and prevent his internal organs from bursting.
The skin and flesh burst open.
Blood splattered.
He heard a soft cracking sound from his bones, probably a broken rib. But he stood there, his spine taut, his feet firmly planted on the ground.
Three seconds later.
The wound began to close.
The muscles squeezed together like living things, the severed blood vessels reconnected, and layers of skin covered over them. The speed was frightening, as if someone were using an eraser to slowly erase the scars from his body.
Loki's expression changed.
For the first time, he neither laughed nor spoke, but simply stared at Ye Mo's chest, watching the fatal wound disappear at a visible speed. His grip on the scepter tightened, his knuckles turning white.
"That's impossible," he said. "A mortal body shouldn't be able to withstand that kind of repair speed."
Ye Mo coughed, exhaling a breath tinged with blood.
He knelt on one knee, supporting himself with his right hand, more blood seeping from between his fingers. Regeneration continued, but at a great cost. He felt as if his head had been hit with a hammer, his ears were ringing, and the edges of his vision were beginning to darken.
But he knew he had made it through.
If that blow had happened before, he would have collapsed long ago, perhaps even lost consciousness. But now, he's not only alive, he's standing up.
"You say I'm not worthy?" He slowly raised his head, staring into Loki's eyes. "Then try hitting me now? See if you can kill me."
Loki didn't move.
He hovered in mid-air, green energy flowing around him like a thin mist. His gaze swept over Ye Mo's body from head to toe, as if analyzing some data. Then, he raised his left hand.
The ground shook.
Three intersecting nets of light rose from the ground, forming a triangle that sealed off the space around Ye Mo. The nets carried high-frequency vibrations, hissing as they touched the air. This was Asgard Imprisonment Spell, specifically designed to suppress superhumans.
Ye Mo stood in the middle, without moving.
He knew this move was powerful, capable of interfering with the operation of non-magical abilities. But he also knew that Regeneration wasn't an icon on the skill panel, nor was it a cheat code given by the system; it was something that grew from within his body.
He forced it out of him.
The optical network is being closed.
The first beam of light cleaved down from above.
He raised his hand to block, and his arm exploded on the spot, exposing the bone. But he didn't scream or back down. A few seconds later, the muscles re-encased the bone, and the skin began to grow back.
The second beam of light came from the left.
He was struck in the waist and abdomen, which sent him flying. He crashed into a broken wall. Bricks rained down as he slid down the wall. The wound in his abdomen was so deep that his intestines were visible, but in less than ten seconds, his internal organs began to shrink back and his skin Regeneration.
The third beam of light came hurtling towards us head-on.
He went straight to meet them.
The beam struck his chest, causing large chunks of flesh to explode. He took a step back, then another, his heels sinking into the rubble, yet he didn't fall.
Wound healing.
Once, twice, three times.
Each injury was more severe, and each recovery was faster. His body seemed to have found its rhythm; the rate of cell division was constantly increasing, and the pain became a catalyst.
Loki was finally moved.
He slowly descended one meter, reaching six meters above the ground, no longer hovering so arrogantly. His gaze was no longer that of someone looking at an ant, but rather one that truly regarded Ye Mo as a threat.
"You're not Mutants," he said, "Nor a god. So what are you?"
Ye Mo was panting, a smile playing on his lips.
He slowly raised his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing up. Blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling on the ground.
"I'm the person you should have killed from the beginning," he said. "Unfortunately, you didn't."
He took a step forward.
The bloodstains on his feet were still wet, but he had already steadied himself. The scar on his chest had completely disappeared, leaving only a faint red mark. The cut on his left arm had stopped bleeding, and his skin was as smooth as ever.
Regeneration continues.
It's not just repair, it's more like evolution. Every injury pushes the body to break through its limits, like a cruel selection process that burns away the weak parts and leaves behind the stronger structure.
Loki raised his scepter.
The green light gathered again, denser and deeper than before. He knew the test was over. The person before him would no longer hide or retreat. He had to suppress him with his true power.
"You think you can win by Regeneration?" he said. "Then I'll let you keep dying until you can't repair anymore."
The beam of light condenses.
It was thicker than any before, its color almost dark green, and the surrounding space seemed to distort. If this attack landed, let alone Regeneration, even a god would be instantly annihilated.
Ye Mo stared at the light.
He knew he couldn't avoid it, and he didn't intend to.
He pressed his right hand to the ground, digging his fingers into the cracks in the cement. His left leg was slightly bent, and his center of gravity shifted. He knew it would hurt a lot, possibly to the point of losing consciousness, but he had to endure it.
As long as it doesn't collapse, there's a chance.
As long as it can still move, it can bite back.
He whispered something, but his voice was so soft that it was easily lost in the wind.
But the lip shape is very clear.
"Come on."
The scepter fell.
A beam of light was emitted.
Ye Mo took a step forward, facing the beam of death.