The Semi-Finals.
The sun was at its zenith, beating down on the arena with merciless intensity. Heat waves shimmered off the packed dirt floor. But in the center of the ring, there was a patch of unnatural winter.
'Frost Palm' Yeo stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He was a disciple of the Northern Hall, known for its cold-attribute arts. A faint, visible mist curled around his feet, frosting the ground where he stood. The air around him was ten degrees colder than the rest of the arena.
Opposite him stood Ma Goo.
The brute was sweating profusely. Not just from the heat, but from the Fire Ant Oil rampaging through his nervous system. His skin was flushed a deep, alarming red. His muscles twitched in rapid, uncontrollable spasms. He looked like a boiler about to explode.
Jin Ryeong stood in the servant's pit, clutching the wooden railing until his knuckles turned white.
'This is it. Fire against Ice. Chemical stimulation against elemental cultivation.'
[System Activation: Diagnosis Eye]
The data grid overlaid the fight.
[Target: 'Frost Palm' Yeo]
[Threat Level: High]
[Technique: Glacial Shield (Defensive Qi Barrier)]
[Weakness: The throat (unprotected by Qi flow to maximize breath control).]
[Target: Ma Goo]
[Status: Critical Overheat]
[Heart Rate: 180 BPM]
[Warning: If body temperature drops rapidly, cardiac arrest will occur in 3 seconds.]
Three seconds. That was the margin of error. If Ma Goo got hit by a Frost Palm, his heart would stop.
"Begin!"
The referee scrambled back, sensing the danger.
"DIEEE!" Ma Goo screamed. It wasn't a battle cry; it was a shriek of terror. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to end this so he could stop hurting.
He launched himself forward. The Spirit Gathering Pill Jin Ryeong had forced down his throat provided the fuel, and the overclocked nerves provided the speed. He moved like a red blur.
Yeo sneered. "A brute like you cannot break my defense."
Yeo raised his palms. The air misted. A translucent, blue barrier of Qi formed in front of him—the Glacial Shield. It was cold enough to freeze water instantly.
Usually, Ma Goo would smash his fist into the shield to break it.
If he did that today, the cold would travel up his arm, meet the superheated blood from the oil, and stop his heart instantly.
"Don't hit the shield!" Jin Ryeong whispered, his nails digging into the wood. "Remember the needles."
Ma Goo was terrified, but his survival instinct was sharper than his brain. As he approached the shield, the cold air hit his skin. It felt like being doused in liquid nitrogen.
"GAAAAH!" Ma Goo convulsed.
The thermal shock hit him before he even made contact. His nerves, sensitized by the oil, screamed. His body wanted to shut down.
But the momentum was too high. Ma Goo couldn't stop.
Instead of punching, he flailed. His arm jerked wildly to the side, bypassing the center of the shield.
Yeo blinked. 'He missed?'
Yeo saw the opening. He stepped forward, his right palm glowing with white frost energy, aiming for Ma Goo's exposed chest. "Frozen Heart Strike!"
Time seemed to slow for Jin Ryeong.
He saw Yeo's palm extending.
He saw Ma Goo stumbling past, eyes rolling back in his head from the pain.
'He's going to die.'
But then, the conditioning kicked in. The muscle memory Jin Ryeong had drilled into him with the needles.
Pain = Speed.
As the cold aura of Yeo's palm brushed Ma Goo's ribs, the pain spiked. Ma Goo's body reacted with a violent, involuntary spasm. His right arm, trailing behind him, whipped forward like a lash.
It wasn't a punch. It was a backhand flail. A desperate, ugly swing.
But Ma Goo's hand was wrapped in bandages.
And under those bandages were three dirty silver needles.
Yeo didn't block. Why would he? A backhand from an off-balance opponent had no power. He focused on landing his palm strike.
Thwip.
Ma Goo's fist brushed past Yeo's neck.
It didn't look like a hit. It looked like a graze.
Yeo's palm connected with Ma Goo's ribs.
CRACKLE.
Frost spread instantly across Ma Goo's side.
"ARGHHH!" Ma Goo howled, falling to the ground, clutching his chest. His heart stuttered. Thump... pause... thump. He gagged, his eyes bulging. The thermal shock was setting in.
Yeo stood over him, smirking. "Pathetic. The cold has already stopped your—"
Yeo stopped talking.
He brought a hand to his throat. He looked confused.
He tried to inhale.
Wheeze.
Nothing came in.
Yeo's eyes widened. He clawed at his neck. A tiny bead of blood was visible on the side of his windpipe. The silver needles hadn't gone deep, but they had pierced the Ren Meridian point responsible for breath control. And they were coated in Fire Ant Oil residue and Ma Goo's dirty blood.
The poison/irritant entered the delicate tissue of the throat. The windpipe swelled shut instantly.
Yeo turned purple. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air that wouldn't come. He looked at Ma Goo, who was writhing on the ground in cardiac distress.
It was a race. Who would die first? The man with the frozen heart, or the man with the swollen throat?
The crowd went silent.
"What's happening?"
"Why isn't Yeo finishing him?"
"Yeo is... choking?"
Up in the VIP box, Elder Baek stood up. His eyes narrowed. He saw the tiny red mark on Yeo's neck.
"Precision," Baek whispered. "A needle strike disguised as a flail."
Yeo's eyes rolled back. He collapsed face-forward into the dirt, unconscious from lack of oxygen.
Ma Goo was still screaming, thrashing in the dirt as the frost spread on his skin.
"Winner... MA GOO!" the referee shouted, waving for the medics. "Get a heater! He's going into shock!"
[Ding!]
[Quest Complete: Defy the Diagnosis.]
[Objective Met: Defeat 'Frost Palm' Yeo.]
[Evaluation: Ugly. Dangerous. Effective.]
[CONGRATULATIONS!]
[You have reached Level 3.]
A golden light, invisible to everyone else, erupted around Jin Ryeong.
The exhaustion that had been crushing him vanished. His stamina bar refilled instantly. The ache in his bones from the previous night's raid dissolved.
[Level 3 Status Unlocked]
• Stat Points: +5
• New Class Feature: [Anesthetic Touch]
• Description: By channeling Qi into a target's nervous system, you can temporarily numb pain or sever sensory input.
• Cost: 1 Qi per minute.
Jin Ryeong slumped against the tunnel wall, letting out a breath he felt he had been holding for an hour.
He didn't cheer. He didn't smile. He just checked his stats.
[Name: Jin Ryeong]
[Level: 3 (0/800 XP)]
[Qi: 2/2 (Refilled)]
[Class: Wicked Healer (Apprentice)]
He dumped all 5 new points into Agility.
'Constitution keeps me alive. Agility keeps me hidden. I need to be faster if I'm going to keep rigging these fights.'
[Agility: 4 -> 9 (Average Adult Male)]
Ma Goo was being carried out on a stretcher, shivering violently, his skin a patchwork of red burns and blue frostbite. As they passed the servant's pit, Ma Goo locked eyes with Jin Ryeong.
There was no gratitude in those eyes. Only hate. Pure, unadulterated fear and hate.
'You did this to me,' the eyes said.
Jin Ryeong stared back, his face impassive.
'And you won, didn't you?'
Later that evening.
Jin Ryeong was alone in the room. Ma Goo was in the official Sect Infirmary, being treated for thermal shock. It was the first time Jin Ryeong had peace and quiet in days.
He was examining his hands, testing the new [Anesthetic Touch]. He focused on his left index finger. A faint, numbing grey aura coated the tip. He touched his own arm.
The sensation vanished instantly. No pain. No touch. Just a void.
'Useful,' he thought. 'I can perform surgery without them screaming. Or I can make an enemy drop their weapon by numbing their hand.'
Knock. Knock.
The sound was polite, precise, and terrifying.
It wasn't Ma Goo pounding on the door. It was a knuckle rapping on the wood.
"Enter," Jin Ryeong said, standing up.
The door slid open.
Standing there was a disciple in azure robes. The same one who had summoned Ma Goo earlier.
"The servant Jin Ryeong?" the disciple asked.
"Yes, Senior Brother."
"Elder Baek requires your presence," the disciple said, stepping aside. "And bring your tools. He has a... project... that requires a veterinarian's touch."
Jin Ryeong felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach.
The "Death Match" wasn't the end of the test. It was the interview. And he had just got the job.
He grabbed his pouch of dirty needles.
"Lead the way," Jin Ryeong said.