96: Chapter 96: The Great Accomplishment of the Body Tempering Realm

For the next ten days, Chen Mo completely disappeared from everyone's sight.

He asked Tiger Li for leave, using the excuse of recovering from injuries.

The world outside remained a chaotic mess.

People were dying every day in the West City slums due to Gang fights and riots by the starving, but Chen Mo turned a deaf ear to it all.

He was no savior.

In this dog-eat-dog world, one had to live like a human first before being qualified to care if others lived like ghosts.

His daily life was extremely disciplined, as monotonous as an ascetic monk's.

Eating, practicing his skills, taking medicinal baths, and sleeping.

The room was filled with a thick smell of Chinese medicine all day long.

Inside a large wooden tub, the dark brown medicinal soup was boiling hot. Chen Mo sat naked inside, his skin flushed red all over like a cooked prawn.

Pain.

A piercing, heart-wrenching pain.

Cultivating the Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill was essentially self-torture. It used medicine to stimulate the skin, tear the muscles, and then reorganize them.

With every breath, it felt like thousands of steel needles were pricking his pores.

If it were before, Chen Mo might have fainted from the pain long ago.

But after the previous two baptisms, his nerves had become as tough as steel wire.

He bit down on a wooden stick, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat pouring like thick syrup into the medicinal soup.

"Add points!"

With a thought, potential points began to burn frantically.

The data on the System panel started to flicker.

The heat flow within his body was no longer a trickle but had turned into rushing lava.

This lava washed over every inch of his skin and every piece of bone.

"Crack... crack..."

Faint popping sounds echoed from within his body.

That was his bones densifying and his fascia stretching.

Chen Mo felt like a piece of scrap iron thrown into a furnace, being tempered and hammered a thousand times to beat out the Impurities.

Day one: Skin Tempering.

The originally rough skin began to peel away, and the newly grown skin was as delicate as jade yet as tough as oxhide. A light scratch with a knife tip would only leave a white mark.

Day three: Muscle Tempering.

The muscles on his body didn't become exaggeratedly bulging; instead, they became tighter and more compact. Every bundle of muscle fiber was filled with explosive power, like a spring compressed to its limit.

Day seven: Bone Forging.

This was the most painful stage.

It felt as if countless ants were gnawing at his marrow. Chen Mo spasmed from the pain, snapping the wooden stick in his mouth. But he didn't make a sound, stubbornly holding onto a sliver of clarity in his mind.

Day ten: Tendon Refining.

Great tendons like Dragons ran through his entire body.

Chen Mo suddenly snapped his eyes open.

The medicinal soup in the tub had turned into clear water; he had absorbed all the medicinal power.

That pile of Aged Ginseng and Medicinal Pills had also all gone into his stomach.

An unprecedented sense of weakness washed over him, followed immediately by extreme hunger.

This was the deficit left after the body's evolution.

Chen Mo struggled to climb out of the wooden tub, nearly falling. He grabbed a large bowl of meat soup prepared on the table—this was a high-concentration nutrient solution made by dissolving Tiger Bone Strength Pills in water.

"Gulp, gulp..."

He drank it all in one breath like a whale sucking in water.

A heat flow exploded in his stomach, rapidly replenishing his body's deficit.

Fifteen minutes later.

Chen Mo slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid Qi.

This breath shot out three feet like an arrow, only dissipating when it hit the wall.

He stood up straight.

"Crack-pop!"

The joints all over his body let out a series of crisp pops like crackling beans.

Chen Mo clenched his fists.

The air was crushed in his palm, letting out a muffled bang.

This sense of power...

He looked at the System panel.

[Name: Chen Mo]

[Realm: Body Tempering Realm (Major Achievement)]

[Cultivation Technique: Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill (Major Achievement)...]

It was done.

Body Tempering Realm Major Achievement.

Only one step away from Perfection, then he could strive for Meridian Unblocking.

Chen Mo walked to the bronze mirror.

The person in the mirror had a tall and straight figure. Although he didn't look particularly imposing, only he knew what kind of terrifying explosive power was contained within this seemingly thin body.

Now, if he encountered those seven assassins in the alley that night again,

There would be no need to dodge or maneuver.

He would only need one punch per person to blast them all into dust.

"Iron Bone Martial Arts Hall..."

Chen Mo put on his clothes, his gaze frighteningly calm.

Ten days had passed.

The wind and snow outside had stopped.

It was time for him to end his seclusion.

Some debts, although recorded in his ledger, he wouldn't mind collecting some interest in advance if given the chance.

Poor.

So damn poor.

Chen Mo sat on the edge of the bed, sighing as he looked at the last two mace of silver in his hand.

The box of medicinal ingredients Ye Zhiqiu sent was indeed good stuff. Aged Ginseng, Tiger Bone Pills—those were all piled up with money. But the problem was, they didn't last long.

Martial arts practice was a bottomless pit.

Especially a hard-body technique like the Hunyuan Iron Cloth Skill; it was literally trading money for life. To make one's skin like iron and bones like steel, practicing alone wasn't enough; one had to eat and soak in medicine.

That box of medicinal ingredients was gone in ten days.

Along with the little savings Chen Mo had gathered himself, buying meat and supplementary medicines had also burned through everything.

Now, in his entire possession, besides this saber, he only had these two mace of silver left. He'd even have to calculate whether to skip a bowl of soy milk to afford two meat buns for breakfast tomorrow.

"Literature for the poor, martial arts for the rich; the ancients truly did not deceive me."

Chen Mo tucked the silver into his robe, his gaze gradually turning cold.

Those large martial arts halls in the Inner City were all filthy rich. The monthly medicinal bath money for a single Disciple was enough for a family of five in the Outer City to live on for three years. Where did the money come from?

Collecting protection fees, monopolizing water transport, opening gambling dens, and lending money at high interest.

To put it bluntly, they were parasites sucking the blood of the people at the bottom.

Since you can suck blood, then it shouldn't be too much for me, Chen Mo, to cut a piece of meat off you, right?

He stood up and pulled a cloth bundle from under the bed.

Night-traveling clothes, a black face mask.

And that ordinary thick-backed machete he had casually bought at a blacksmith shop to avoid suspicion.

He had already chosen tonight's "target."

West City, Steward Zhao.

This old thing wasn't a man of the Martial Forest, but he was more hated than those who were. His family had thousands of acres of fertile land and over a dozen shops, but that wasn't the point.

The point was this old dog had a "refined hobby."

He liked them young.

He specifically targeted girls aged fourteen or fifteen. Nominally, he bought them into the manor as maids with flexible contracts and offered a lot of money. Poor families who couldn't survive thought sending their daughters in was a blessing.

And the result?

They went in as lively people, but when they came out, they were often corpses wrapped in tattered straw mats. Even wild dogs at the mass grave found them too unlucky to touch.

Last month, while Chen Mo was patrolling the streets, he saw the Zhao Manor's butler dragging out a half-dead Little Girl to dump her. Her lower body was covered in blood, and the light had long since faded from her eyes.

At that time, Chen Mo didn't act.

He was a head runner, not a hero. Moving against Steward Zhao meant touching the network of connections behind the Zhao family; it wasn't worth getting himself into trouble for a girl he didn't know.

But now it was different.

Now he needed money.

Since he needed money, he would find someone who deserved to die and kill them. He'd get the money and eliminate a pest at the same time—it would clear his conscience.

...

Night.

Half the moon was covered by dark clouds, looking like a plate that hadn't been washed clean.

Zhao Manor.

The vermillion gates were tightly closed, and the two stone lions at the entrance looked fierce.

Chen Mo didn't use the main entrance. Like a large gecko, he silently clung to the high wall of the backyard.

The Body Tempering Realm Major Achievement brought him not just strength, but also absolute control over his body. For a four-meter-high wall, he just tapped his toe in a crack, and he floated inside.

He landed without a sound.

The courtyard was quiet.

Only the master bedroom was still lit, with the faint sound of a man's lecherous laughter and a girl's suppressed sobbing coming from within.

Chen Mo narrowed his eyes.

This old dog's spirits were quite high.

Two guards were patrolling over with lanterns.

"Yawn..."

The guard on the left had just opened his mouth, before he could even take a breath of cold air.

A hand reached out from the darkness and grabbed his throat.

"Crack."

A crisp sound.

The throat bone was crushed.

The guard didn't even let out a groan before he slumped down softly.

The guard on the right had just reacted, his eyes wide, his hand not yet reaching the hilt of the saber at his waist.

Chen Mo took a step forward.

This step was as fast as a ghost.

A hand-blade strike hit the opponent's carotid artery.

The man fainted.

Chen Mo followed up with a stab into the heart.

Clean and efficient.

He dragged the two corpses into the flower bushes and clapped his hands as if dusting them off.

He continued forward.

Along the way, he encountered three more waves of hidden sentries.

All were experts at the Early Stage of the Body Tempering Realm. It seemed Steward Zhao knew he had committed many sins and feared retaliation, so he spent a lot of money to hire bodyguards.

Unfortunately, in front of the current Chen Mo, these so-called "experts" were no different from toddlers who had just learned to walk.

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

In the outer and inner courtyards, a total of twelve guards had all become corpses.

Chen Mo stood at the door of the master bedroom.

The sounds inside grew louder.

"Cry! Keep crying! I love this feeling!"

Steward Zhao's raspy voice was nauseating.

"Bang!"

The door was kicked open.

The red candles in the room flickered.

Steward Zhao was shirtless, pinning a Little Girl who looked only thirteen or fourteen to the bed and tearing at her clothes. Another one was huddled on the floor nearby, dressed in rags and trembling.

Seeing Chen Mo enter, dressed in black and carrying a dripping machete, Steward Zhao was stunned for a moment.

"Who... who are you? Guards! Someone! Guards!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs.

No one answered.

The dead silence outside made him instantly realize what had happened.

Steward Zhao's face turned pale. He pulled a dagger from under his pillow and pointed it at Chen Mo, trembling: "Hero! Hero, spare my life! You want money, right? I have money! I have plenty of money!"

Chen Mo didn't speak.

He reached back to close the door and slid the bolt.

Then he walked over step by step.

With every step he took, Steward Zhao shrank an inch further into the corner of the bed.

"Where is the money?"

Chen Mo's voice was raspy, like two pieces of iron rubbing together.

"In... in the hidden compartment! There's a hidden compartment under the bed!" Steward Zhao pointed under the bed, his nose running and tears flowing, "Hero, take it all! As long as you don't kill me, I..."

Chen Mo walked over and kicked him off the bed.

Steward Zhao rolled into the corner like a ball, clutching his stomach and retching.

Chen Mo lifted the bedboard.

Sure enough, there was a hidden compartment.

Opening it, it was golden and silvery.

A box of gold leaves and several large silver ingots. A rough estimate put it at seven or eight hundred taels.

This old dog was truly fat.

Chen Mo dumped all the gold and silver into the cloth bag he had brought, tied it up, and hung it at his waist.

The heavy weight felt reassuring.

"Hero, you've taken the money. Can you..." Steward Zhao knelt on the ground and kowtowed, "leave me a path to live?"

Chen Mo turned around and looked at him.

There was no emotion in the eyes behind the mask.

"No."

A flash of blade light.

A fat head rolled down, and blood sprayed across the wall.

The two Little Girls were scared witless, their mouths open but unable to make a sound, only tears streaming down.

Chen Mo didn't even glance at them.

Carrying his saber, he turned and left the room.

There were a few servants in the courtyard who had just run out after hearing the noise.

Seeing Chen Mo, they turned to run.

"Can you run?"

Chen Mo kicked off the ground, and his whole body shot out like a cannonball.

The blade edge swept across.

Blood blossoms bloomed.

Whether it was the butler, the maids serving tea, or the servants guarding the house.

Anyone who saw his figure was killed.

This wasn't cruelty.

This was survival.

In this world, the grass on the graves of the soft-hearted was already three feet high. He couldn't gamble on whether these people would remember his figure or recognize him as Chen Mo from the West City Local Constable Office through some detail.

Only dead people keep secrets.

Fifteen minutes later.

Zhao Manor fell silent.

Completely silent.

Except for the two trembling victims in the master bedroom, not a single soul—not even a chicken or a dog—was left alive in the entire Zhao Manor.

Chen Mo stood in the middle of the courtyard and did a final check.

He made sure there were no survivors and no omissions.

He weighed the money bag at his waist, tapped his toe, and leaped over the wall.

As for those two Little Girls?

That was their fate. Whether they could survive depended on their luck. He had saved them once, which was already more than enough; he had no obligation to be their babysitter.

...

The next day.

Just as dawn was breaking.

Roll call at the West City Local Constable Office.

Chen Mo yawned, sitting on a grand chair with a teacup.

Zhao Dazhu and Wang Xiaoer ran in hurriedly, their faces filled with excitement and terror.

"Boss! Something big happened!"

Zhao Dazhu's loud voice made Chen Mo's ears ring.

"Why are you shouting?" Chen Mo took a sip of tea. "Is the sky falling?"

"It's bigger than the sky falling!" Wang Xiaoer leaned in and lowered his voice. "Steward Zhao's family was wiped out last night!"

The teacup in Chen Mo's hand remained steady, without even a ripple.

"Oh? How many died?"

"Everyone!" Zhao Dazhu gestured. "Even the watchdog was split in two! Only two kidnapped Little Girls were left alive. That scene, tsk tsk, was a river of blood!"

"Who did it? Has it been found out?" Chen Mo asked nonchalantly.

"Not yet. Lord Tiger Li is over there with the Black Robe Guards performing autopsies."

Just as he spoke, Tiger Li strode in.

His expression was solemn, and he still carried a scent of blood.

"Mo, you should come and take a look too." Tiger Li took off his gloves and threw them on the table. "This case is quite interesting."

Chen Mo put down his teacup and stood up to follow.

Arriving at Zhao Manor.

The entrance was already surrounded by commoners watching the commotion. They were pointing and whispering, but most had expressions of schadenfreude. Steward Zhao usually committed many evils, and now that he had met his retribution, everyone felt gratified.

Entering the courtyard.

The corpses hadn't been collected yet, lying all over the place.

Chen Mo pretended to examine a few corpses, his brow furrowed: "Brother Tiger, this method... is quite ruthless."

Tiger Li knelt by the corpse of a guard and pointed at the wound: "Look."

It was a saber wound.

Slashed diagonally from the shoulder, it had cut right through bone and flesh, splitting half the body.

"This strength is terrifying," Tiger Li analyzed. "But this saber technique is too crude."

Chen Mo laughed inwardly.

Of course it was crude.

Last night, he specifically didn't use the Cloak-Slicing Saber Technique, relying purely on the brute force of the Body Tempering Realm Major Achievement.

"What do you mean?" Chen Mo asked.