touchnovel Chapter 123 A Good Start
Chapter 123 A Good Start
It is unknown what these arrested people went through, but apart from their life stories being only briefly mentioned, all other information about them is very detailed, especially their true strength and areas of expertise.
Fu Que picked and chose, and still chose the most experienced gloomy old man. Although his strength was not outstanding among these people, and he did not even have Qi Refining cultivation, he could not be extracted from his soul and blood to refine the inherited martial arts.
But Fu Que took a liking to his expertise. To be chosen to be imprisoned with the strength of a beginner martial artist, he must have something special about him.
This person is an expert in the technique of attaching spirits to flesh and blood. He used to smuggle martial artists' blood essence to feed demons and then train them into familiars. Fu Que just happens to need the qualification to imprint this.
His idea was to first make a copy of a martial artist who possessed such expertise and had a certain level of skill, and then enhance the state of the copy scroll himself to conduct trial experiments and production.
Fu Que knew very well that these prisoners would not pass on all their true abilities to him, but it didn't matter. The other party was very powerful, and they might have to be patient. Whether they wanted to or not, as long as they were imprinted on the other party's painting, part of their abilities would be copied by the painting. The rest would be filled in by the Sinful Cloud Ink and other components.
"I need to borrow this prisoner named Heming for a month. How much will that cost?"
Fu Que asked.
"May I ask what you want him to do, sir? Is it to make a flesh puppet for you, or do you simply want to torture him, or do you want to learn his skills, or something else? I need to price him according to the rules based on his consumption."
The receptionist replied very professionally.
"I guess you could call it learning."
Fu Que thought for a moment and then replied.
"Well, this is actually the lowest price, but there's something I need to make clear to you beforehand: beginner-level martial artists don't have the qualifications to steal souls, so they haven't been further processed, and accidents might happen during the learning process."
If you accept, you can complete the handover procedures and take it away now. If you do not accept, you can choose to replace the person or spend a certain amount of points to let us help you with further processing.
This part of the cost will need to be paid separately by you, and it will also take some time, at least ten days. What is your choice?
I accept.
Fu Que answered immediately without the slightest hesitation.
……
The deep, dark dungeon, the damp, sweltering air—the second level of the Tiger's Den Prison.
The damp, cold air was biting, and the slightly murky raindrops stung the skin. If you exposed your mouth and nose to the air, you could feel a stench that went straight to your head.
In the third-to-last cell, a withered, thin figure, disregarding the chains and shackles, was rummaging through the damp floor for something.
This was a gaunt, dark-skinned old man, barefoot with prominent ribs, his expression cold and wooden.
Suddenly, his sharp fingernails cut his wrist, dripping onto the damp ground.
He watched as the blood spread along the lines of the wound, then grinned, revealing blackened teeth, and licked his lips, finding only a faint, metallic taste in his throat.
Slight footsteps came from outside the fence. The withered old man, like a startled rabbit, turned and retreated into the depths of the dark cell, his soles sticky with an unknown slime, making an extremely disgusting sound.
boom.
The old man bumped his head against the hard black brick wall and sat down on the ground with a thud.
Fu Que happened to glance over and saw the withered old man sitting on the ground, with thin lines of blood still flowing from his wrist.
The old man looked up blankly, and when he saw the crisp black martial arts uniform, he trembled involuntarily, shaking and shuffling backward, the shackles and chains on his body rattling loudly.
The thin, sword-browed young man gradually magnified in the old man's eyes until he finally squatted down in front of him.
"I need your expertise."
Fu Que's voice was calm. His eyes darted around, and dark ripples spread across them. After taking in the gaunt old man's true condition, he raised his prominent eyebrows, looking rather satisfied.
"...."
Fu Que turned to look at the guard who had brought him there. The guard shrugged at Fu Que: "He's pretending to be stupid. We basically didn't do anything to him, although we did conduct some experiments on him, of course."
But those experiments were tolerable for ordinary people, let alone for a novice martial artist like him who knew the methods of creating flesh and blood puppets.
Damp, cold water dripped down, soaking the black martial arts uniform. Fu Que moved a few steps closer to the old man: "My name is Fu Que, and I am a Tiger Rider. I have spent points to buy your next month of time."
I need to learn your expertise because of my interest, which is why I'm here. I've never liked wasting my breath, so this is the first and last time I'll speak to you calmly.
The sins you have committed are, in my view, deserving of a thousand cuts, and for some reason, killing you is quite tempting to me.
I don't have time to waste with you. If you obediently do as I say this for the next month, you can have a more relaxed time during this limited period, and I might even extend the time I have to buy you.
But if you want to try some tricks and show me the power of the flesh and blood puppet specialization, I welcome that, but you might have to suffer a bit.
Nod if you understand.
Fu Que waited for a while, and the withered old man just chuckled foolishly. Fu Que smiled as well and nodded, saying, "I think the next month will be quite exciting."
In the void of consciousness, two scrolls floated quietly. One of them was unremarkable, and the portrait on it was even simpler, just a withered old man outlined with a few strokes.
……
"I'm convinced, I'm truly convinced this time. I never expected you to have such a high level of talent in the field of flesh and blood puppetry."
In the evening, Fu Que, who had spent the whole day in the rented slaughterhouse with He Ming, finally stopped what he was doing. He threw the small tools in his hand on the table, and without caring about the mess and blood in front of him, picked up the glass of water in front of him and slowly sipped a cup.
Having experienced several life-or-death battles and low-intensity battlefields, and faced close-quarters combat with nearly a thousand people using melee weapons, he has developed sufficient resilience to deal with dismembered limbs and other severed parts, especially since he created them himself.
"So you're finally willing to talk? I thought you were going to pretend to be stupid for another two days. You only lasted a little over a day, and you can't even keep up?"
"Playing dumb is to make my life better, not to make myself suffer. The reason I endured the ordeal in prison was to negotiate better terms, not because I'm tough."
He Ming said, his tongue slurred.