91: Chapter 91 The Old Bear Collided with a Tree

When he returned home, it was already pitch black outside.

Chen Mo found a broken clay pot and set it on the stove.

He added water and the medicine.

The flames licked the bottom of the pot, and before long, a strange odor wafted through the room.

It wasn't the scent of medicine, but a pungent, spicy smell, somewhat like burnt rubber mixed with rotten eggs.

"Can this stuff actually be drunk?"

Chen Mo held his nose, watching the black soup bubbling in the clay pot.

The liquid was thick, shiny black, and looked like crude oil.

The book said it had to be drunk while hot.

"Time to risk it."

Chen Mo picked up the clay pot, skipped the bowl, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

"Gulp."

The scalding medicinal liquid flowed down his throat like a trail of fire.

Chen Mo felt as if he had swallowed a piece of red-hot charcoal.

The heat entered his stomach and instantly exploded, turning into countless tiny streams of hot air that drilled into his limbs and bones like headless flies.

Pain.

A burning, searing pain.

His skin felt as if it were being pricked by needles, or soaked in chili water.

"Now is the time!"

Chen Mo didn't dare delay; he tossed the clay pot aside, stripped off his shirt, and jumped to the middle of the room.

Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill, first form: Old Bear Rams the Tree.

The name was rustic, and the movement was even more so.

It simply involved tensing all the muscles in his body and then slamming his back, shoulders, and chest against a hard object.

There were no trees in the room, only walls.

Chen Mo took a deep breath, his chest swelling high, and let out a low, muffled grunt from his throat: "Hmph!"

Following this "Hmph," the Qi and blood in his body jolted violently, and the rampaging medicinal power seemed to hear a command, instantly surging toward his back.

"Bang!"

Chen Mo slammed hard against the wall.

The earthen wall shook, and dust rained down.

Pain arrived, but it was immediately followed by a tingling sensation.

At the moment of impact, the medicinal power penetrated his skin and membranes.

"Ha!"

Chen Mo exhaled, shifted his body, and slammed his shoulder into it.

"Bang!"

"Hmph!"

"Bang!"

"Ha!"

In the narrow room, dull thuds of impact echoed one after another.

Chen Mo was like a madman, having it out with his own wall.

With every impact, his skin flushed an unnatural red—a sign of ruptured capillaries.

However, under the dual effect of the medicinal power and potential points, those microscopic injuries were repaired instantly, and the newly formed skin and membranes became tougher and denser.

This was the terrifying aspect of high potential points.

For an ordinary person practicing this, ten hits would require half a day of rest, waiting for the medicinal power to slowly dissolve.

Chen Mo didn't need to.

His body was like a super sponge, greedily absorbing every trace of medicinal power, with a terrifyingly high conversion efficiency.

The feeling was quite wondrous.

On one side was the intense pain of flesh tearing; on the other was the pleasure of increasing strength.

Painful, yet happy.

An hour later.

Chen Mo stopped.

He was drenched in sweat, as if he had just been fished out of water.

His skin was as red as a boiled shrimp, covered in a layer of black, oily sludge—the Impurities expelled from his pores.

Exhausted.

He didn't want to move even a finger.

Yet, his spirit was incredibly exhilarated.

He could clearly feel that his skin had become "thicker."

It wasn't the thickness of calluses, but a qualitative change.

He reached out and pinched the flesh on his arm; it was tight and resilient, like a layer of old oxhide stretched over refined iron.

"Hoo..."

Chen Mo let out a long breath of stale air and focused his mind.

The semi-transparent panel that only he could see appeared before his eyes.

[Great Sun Tathagata Marrow Cleansing Incantation (beginner 15%)]

[Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill (Entry Level 12%)]

"Hiss..."

Chen Mo gasped.

Entry Level 12%!

Only one hour, one dose of medicine!

At this rate, as long as the medicine held out and he wasn't afraid of pain, in ten days at most, this skill could reach Minor Achievement!

Ten days to Minor Achievement!

If Ye Zhiqiu knew this, she would probably eat her teacup.

For an ordinary person practicing this stuff, just reaching the entry level takes half a year of grinding, and to develop the "Iron Cloth" prototype (Minor Achievement) for their skin and membranes takes at least three to five years.

"Is this the joy of cheating?"

Chen Mo clenched his fists.

His strength had also increased significantly.

Although the Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill focused on defense, with his skin and membranes tightened, the binding force on his muscles was stronger, and his explosive power naturally increased as well.

He now had an illusion that he could kill a cow with one punch.

Of course, this was just an illusion.

But if he really reached Minor Achievement, combined with the foundation of sinew and bone built by the Marrow Cleansing Incantation, he would dare to go head-to-head with even a master of the Tongmai Realm.

So what if they were in the Tongmai Realm?

You punch me, and I shake it off without issue; I punch you, and your bones break and tendons snap.

This was the error tolerance.

This was his confidence.

The light in Chen Mo's eyes grew brighter; it was a craving for power and the ambition to survive in this chaotic world.

But soon, the light dimmed slightly.

He looked down at the empty clay pot on the floor, then at the two remaining packets of medicine in the corner.

Reality was very harsh.

This night of Cultivate was enjoyable, but it was burning money.

Five taels of silver for just a few thuds.

Ten days to Minor Achievement would cost fifty taels.

What if he wanted Major Achievement?

What if he wanted Perfection?

Moreover, as his Realm improved, the dosage would have to increase, and the medicinal ingredients would have to be better.

Those hundred-plus taels of silver looked like a lot, but once thrown into this bottomless pit, they wouldn't even make a splash.

"Out of money."

Chen Mo sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the corner of his clothes.

This was a very realistic problem.

Without money to buy medicine, his Cultivate speed would slow down.

Slowly down meant an extra bit of danger in this man-eating world.

Go to the yamen and ask for an advance on his salary?

Don't be ridiculous; that meager fixed salary wasn't even enough to buy a root of Black Blood Vine.

Go get a job?

Carry heavy sacks at the docks? Or smith iron at the blacksmith shop?

That was a waste of life.

His time had to be used for Cultivate, for health preservation, for immortality.

Then, there weren't many paths left.

Chen Mo stood up, walked to the window, and looked out through the cracks.

The night was deep.

The streets outside were pitch black, with the occasional sound of dogs barking and the striking of a gong by the night watchman.

This was a world without surveillance, without a fingerprint database, and where even household registration was a mess.

This was a world where murderers and arsonists wore golden belts, while those who built bridges and paved roads were left without corpses.

Chen Mo's gaze gradually turned cold.

He was a modern person who had received higher education; obeying the law was an instinct carved into his bones.

When he first experienced Transmigration, he didn't even dare to kill a chicken.

But in the last two months, he had seen too much.

He had seen Official Liu's entire family of dozens wiped out, with even a three-year-old child nailed to the wall; he had seen refugees outside the city trading children to eat; he had seen yamen runners take bribes and beat victims half to death.

The rules here were that there were no rules.

Or rather, fists were the rules.

"I don't want to cause trouble."

Chen Mo whispered to himself, as if trying to convince himself, "I just want to live well, to live a little longer."

"But there are always some people who don't want me to live."

"Since people have to die, why can't it be those bad people?"

In his mind, a few names surfaced.