27: Chapter 27 Bear Paw and Control

When Chen Mo returned to the side of the Deep Pool, it was not yet noon.

Chen Mo set his backpack down, took out the two packed Black Bear paws, and placed them in the Deep Pool water to clean.

The water of the Deep Pool was icy cold; the blood stains on the bear paws dissolved into the clear water and were quickly washed away completely.

He placed the portable pot he had brought onto the stone stove, poured in half a pot of clear water, and put the two bear paws into the cold water.

After blanching them, he took out the wild onions, wild garlic, dried mushrooms, and wild mountain fungi he had collected along the way these past few days from the side pocket of his backpack—they had all been picked up along the way through the Yin River Gorge, and now they came in handy.

He tied the wild onions into knots, crushed the wild garlic, tossed them into the pot along with the dried mushrooms and wild mountain fungi, and sprinkled in a small pinch of salt. He covered the pot, adjusted the heat, and kept the water at a gentle simmer.

After finishing these tasks, he straightened his back and checked the time.

He took off his jacket and pants, leaving only a pair of shorts, took a deep breath, and leaped into the Deep Pool.

The icy water of the Deep Pool enveloped him from all directions as his body sank straight down, gravity pulling him toward the bottom of the pool.

Upon reaching the bottom of the pool, he bent down to lift the stone he had become somewhat familiar with, clutched it to his chest, and began to walk while bearing the weight.

The silt at the bottom of the pool was constantly stirred up under his feet, with every step carrying tremendous resistance; his entire body's muscles quickly entered a state of maximum load under the pressure of the water and the added weight.

Twenty-something minutes later, his body began to run low on oxygen. He dropped the stone, pushed off with both legs, and catapulted from the bottom of the pool.

Surfacing, catching his breath, climbing ashore, shaking the water from his hair, he then began to look for spirit energy particles.

Sensing three reactions by the side of the Deep Pool, he walked over and absorbed them one by one.

A warm current surged into his body, and the muscle fibers that had just been pushed to their limit were quickly repaired and remodeled under the infusion of Spiritual Qi, the soreness and swelling of his muscles fading at a speed visible to the naked eye.

He had repeated this cycle dozens of times.

Then he continued to dive. The second round, the third round, the fourth round. The entire afternoon was spent in this cycle.

By evening, the sun had sunk behind the rock wall, and the gorge had entered twilight early.

Chen Mo completed his final round of training, climbed up from the side of the Deep Pool, and walked barefoot to the stone stove.

The soup in the pot had been stewing for the entire afternoon, and steam was escaping from the gaps in the lid, carrying a rich, intense aroma.

He lifted the lid, and a plume of white steam shot into the air, followed by an intensely rich, complex fragrance—the spicy aroma of the wild onions had melted into the soup, turning into a clear sweetness;

the pungent taste of the wild garlic had been tamed by long hours of stewing into a mellow, lingering sweetness;

the umami released by the dried mushrooms formed the foundation of the soup base, deep and mellow;

while the umami of the wild mountain fungi was even more ethereal.

But all these aromas were merely accompaniments; the true protagonist was the bear paws.

The bear paws were rich in collagen and tendons, and after several hours of slow stewing, the collagen had completely dissolved into the soup, dyeing the entire pot of broth a milky white, as thick as milk.

Its unique charred aroma—that distinct fragrance between roasted meat and stewed meat, carrying notes of nuts and caramel—pierced through all the mushroom umami and rushed straight into his nasal cavity.

He inserted his dagger into the bear paw. The tip of the blade met almost no resistance; with a gentle press, it sank into the thickest meat pad of the palm, as if cutting into a piece of freshly cooked soft tofu.

He lifted the bear paw out and placed it on a stone, used his dagger to cut off a piece, blew on it to cool it down, and then took a bite.

It melted upon entering his mouth.

The meat pad of the bear paw dissolved the moment it touched his teeth, turning into a smooth, glutinous, and chewy gelatin that slid down the sides of his tongue and into his throat.

The first thing he tasted was the freshness, fragrance, and slight saltiness of the broth—a complex flavor created by the fungi, wild onions, and salt—followed by the rich fragrance of the bear paw's fat layer—not a greasy kind of fragrance, but an extremely delicate, almost gentle, natural oily sweetness that wasn't cloying, leaving a thin, moist sensation lingering on the tip of his tongue after swallowing.

Finally, there were the few strands of lean meat deep within the bear paw, which dissolved with a slight press of his tongue, releasing an intensely concentrated meaty fragrance, as if the essence of the entire pot of soup had been compressed into a single strand of meat.

It was too delicious.

It was no wonder he had seen so many people online in the past who were willing to risk imprisonment just to poach wild game; this experience was truly extraordinary.

After quickly finishing the two bear paws and tidying up the stove, the sky had turned completely dark.

Tonight's training was the same as usual. The high-intensity training during the day pushed his physical limits, while the night training focused on control.

The rapid increase in his Mental Power stat over these past few days, rising all the way from 2.3 before entering the mountains to 2.7, was not just a numerical change; it was more tangibly reflected in the precision of his control over his body.

He sat cross-legged on the gravel beach in front of his tent, closed his eyes, and began Inner Vision.

The inside of his body appeared in his mind.

Compared to a few days ago, the precision of his perception was higher—he could see the outline of every muscle fiber, and he could see the morphological changes of the myofibrils as they contracted and relaxed.

The increase in Mental Power allowed him to do something he couldn't do before: simultaneously control multiple non-adjacent muscle groups for antagonist training.

Previously, when he practiced Standing Post, he needed to activate from the soles of his feet layer by layer upward—soles, calves, thighs, buttocks, waist and abdomen, chest and back, shoulders and arms—each activation had a specific sequence, and adjacent muscle groups had to coordinate together, unable to be too scattered.

But now, he could simultaneously activate the muscles of his left leg and the muscles of his right shoulder, allowing two completely unrelated muscle groups to enter a state of maximum antagonism at the same time, without interfering with each other.

This meant that his nervous System's bandwidth had increased, and he could process more independent control channels simultaneously. This improvement in precision was far more significant for actual combat than an increase in absolute strength.

Because in a fight, you are never given the time to get into position and activate your muscles layer by layer; when an opponent's fist strikes, you need to stabilize your core, exert force to counterattack, control your center of gravity, and adjust your stance all within an extremely short amount of time—every single muscle must contract in the most perfect way at the very moment you need it; a second too late and it's all over.

He began his training. He started with the simplest combination—the biceps and triceps of his right forearm pulling against each other to the limit, plus the gastrocnemius and tibialis anterior of his left calf pulling against each other to the limit.

The two locations were worlds apart, unrelated, and completely controlled independently by his consciousness.

At first, it was a bit awkward; his left hand would unconsciously relax following the rhythm of his right hand's exertion, but after about half an hour of repeated calibration, the two independent channels became clearly distinct. Then, on this foundation, he added a third set—the antagonism between his rectus abdominis and erector spinae.

Three sets, four sets, five sets. In the end, he was simultaneously maintaining seven sets of completely non-adjacent antagonist muscle groups, each pushed to its limit of intensity.

His muscles were experiencing extremely intense tearing and repair within.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and trickled down his neck, but he still maintained this state steadily.

He opened his eyes and slowly relaxed those violent muscle bundles one by one.

Although this control training could currently only be completed in a static state, as long as he continued to hone the precision, one day it could be integrated into dynamic actual combat.

By then, every punch he threw would no longer be just the coordination of local muscles, but a true combined force formed by more independent muscle groups throughout his entire body, each erupting with maximum output at the exact same moment.