4: Chapter 4, First Skeleton Soldier

"Not even qualified to be material."

To Yan Zheng himself, this statement didn't sound like a threat; it sounded more like an objective academic evaluation.

He pushed open the door to the Antique Shop, locked it, and pulled down the blinds. After confirming that no light from inside could be seen from the outside, he walked straight past the shelves filled with fake antiques and headed toward the narrow wooden door behind the cash register.

Behind the door was a steep flight of stairs leading down to an Underground Room of about ten square meters.

The original owner used this place as a warehouse, stacking it with a few boxes of unlisted Yiwu handicrafts and some cardboard packaging.

Yan Zheng pushed all the cardboard boxes into the corner, clearing a space about two meters square in the center.

"Skeleton Soldier blueprint."

The system panel responded by popping up a detailed information page.

[Basic Undead Creation: Skeleton Soldier]

[Required material: Ordinary human skeleton × 1 (Already possessed)]

[Finished product parameters: Strength: average adult male. Speed: average adult male. Defense: low (no muscle coverage, exposed bones). Intelligence: none (only obeys the host's Mental Power instructions). Special abilities: none. No pain, no fatigue, no need to eat.]

[Flaw: Terrifying appearance, must not be exposed to the public eye.]

[Mental Power consumption: Continuous consumption of 0.5/hour during control; current Mental Power can maintain a maximum control duration of 16 hours.]

Yan Zheng read through every line of parameters twice, very carefully.

"Strength and speed are both at the level of an ordinary person; there are no bonuses."

He muttered to himself, his tone like someone grading a barely passing lab report.

"It's enough to fight ordinary people, but if it runs into someone with a gun, it's a living target, and if it runs into a superhuman, it's just asking to be slaughtered."

Yan Zheng: ( ˘ _ ˘ )

It was an expected result; for something made from the corpse of an ordinary person, the ceiling was right there.

But it was, at the very least, a breakthrough from zero to one.

"Assemble."

He gave the instruction in a low voice.

The air in the center of the Underground Room suddenly dropped a few degrees. A mass of dark green mist seeped out from the ground beneath Yan Zheng's feet, roiling and condensing in the center of the empty space into a vague human silhouette.

Yan Zheng stepped back, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms, observing with great interest.

Within the mist, bones emerged from nothingness one by one.

First came the spine, stacking up section by section from bottom to top, like some strange building rising from the ground.

Then the ribs; twelve pairs of curved white bones extended from both sides of the spine, closing like a cage.

Shoulder blades, clavicles, arm bones, finger bones.

Pelvis, femur, tibia, toe bones.

Finally, the skull.

A complete human skull rose from the mist to the top of the spine, precisely locking into the atlas joint, its hollow eye sockets facing Yan Zheng.

The moment all the bones were in place, dark green will-o'-the-wisps ignited deep within the two hollow eye sockets, glowing dimly like two ghostly lanterns.

The entire assembly process took less than ten seconds.

Yan Zheng: ( ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ )

A complete human skeleton, about 1.7 meters tall, stood in the center of the Underground Room. There was not a shred of muscle or skin covering its body; the naked white bones gleamed with a cold light under the reflection of the ghostly green fire.

It stood motionless, like a specimen displayed in a museum.

But Yan Zheng could feel it.

An invisible thread of Mental Power connected him to the skeleton, like the strings of a marionette; the position and status of every bone were within his range of perception.

"Raise your left hand."

The Skeleton Soldier's left arm raised, the movement fluid and without any hesitation.

"Make a fist."

The finger bones curled inward, making a faint clicking sound.

"Take three steps forward."

The Skeleton Soldier stepped forward. Its bones were held together by that layer of dark green ghostly fire energy; without tendons or ligaments, it showed no signs of falling apart as it walked, though its gait was slightly stiff.

Yan Zheng tilted his head and observed for a moment.

"Squat, stand up, repeat five times."

The Skeleton Soldier complied, its speed roughly equivalent to the normal pace of an ordinary person—neither fast nor slow.

"Punch that wall."

The Skeleton Soldier turned and punched the red brick wall, emitting a dull thud as a few bits of debris fell away.

A shallow white mark appeared on the wall, but there were no cracks.

Yan Zheng walked up and checked the Skeleton Soldier's fist bones; there was no damage.

"Doesn't hurt, right? Of course it doesn't hurt; you don't have pain nerves."

He patted the Skeleton Soldier's shoulder blade, like patting a newly purchased piece of furniture.

"Then let's do a limit test: full-power punches, ten times in a row."

The bony fists struck the wall in rapid succession. The speed was indeed only at an ordinary person's level, and the power was unremarkable. After ten punches, a patch of white marks appeared on the wall, but there were still no obvious cracks.

Yan Zheng: ( ˇ - ˇ )

"As expected, only at the level of an ordinary person."

He stepped back, leaned against the wall again, and narrowed his eyes as he studied the skeleton emitting ghostly green fire before him.

The thugs in Hells Kitchen could take it out with a single gun.

Any random armed thug on the street could smash this pile of bones to pieces.

Not to mention those true monsters in this city.

"In this World, the combat power of an ordinary person is equal to zero."

Yan Zheng's voice was calm, as if he were stating an axiom.

"Super soldiers can smash walls with a single punch, Mutants can flip cars with telekinesis, and even street-level superhumans can bend steel bars with their bare hands. With a physique like yours, sending you out there just means getting crushed under someone's boot."

The Skeleton Soldier stood silently, the ghostly fire in its hollow eye sockets flickering gently. Perhaps it was just an illusion, but the fire seemed to flash, as if silently agreeing with its Master's assessment.

"But at least this proves one thing."

Yan Zheng's tone rose slightly.

"The system is real and effective, the assembly is feasible, and the Mental Power control is responsive in real-time."

He reached out and snapped his fingers in front of the Skeleton Soldier.

"Return."

The Skeleton Soldier's form began to dissipate the moment he snapped his fingers. Dark green mist peeled away from the surface of the bones, and within three seconds, the entire skeleton turned back into black mist and retreated into the Shadow beneath Yan Zheng's feet.

The system panel popped up a prompt.

[Undead Creation has been retracted; it has entered a dormant state and will not consume Mental Power.]

[Tip: Collect the corpses of Mutants or superpowered individuals to obtain special materials and unlock advanced assembly blueprints. Advanced creations will inherit some of the abilities possessed in life.]

Yan Zheng stared at the last sentence, his gaze darkening.

"Inherit abilities from life."

He murmured, repeating the words.

Healing Factor, super strength, telekinesis, elemental manipulation.

This World is not lacking in beings with extraordinary abilities; some hide in the shadows, while others fly in the open.

And when these beings die, their corpses will be the finest raw materials in Yan Zheng's hands.

He raised a hand to adjust the non-existent glasses on the bridge of his nose—a habitual gesture brought over from his past life that caused the corners of his mouth to curve slightly.

Yan Zheng: ( ˵ ° ω ° ˵ )

"Ordinary bones can only assemble ordinary things; that's very fair."

He turned and walked up the stairs, and the lights in the Underground Room extinguished behind him.

"It seems I need higher-level materials, gentlemen."

His footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell. The last sentence carried a certain leisurely anticipation, as if he were announcing his next plan to a room full of invisible spectators.

"In this city, someone is always bound to die tonight, right?"