Chapter 132: White Bone Centipede

In the technology park, Feng Jianhua received a call and his expression changed slightly.

He scanned the surroundings again, yet still saw no suspicious individuals.

On Yuan Chongxiao’s end, the team sent to retrieve the goods had not yet arrived.

Waiting this long contradicts what Li Guangzong had described.

“Withdraw!”

Feng Jianhua said, “If the Ghost Market asks later, say they broke the appointment—we acted with caution.”

Though he spoke thus, the old principal felt a quiet suspicion: the person Chu Tianshu mentioned on the phone might be linked to the Ghost Market.

If that were true…

Had these seasoned veterans unknowingly been exposed?

Everyone hurried back to the martial arts school.

In Chu Tianshu’s spacious training room, Qi Lianyong and several other instructors were already waiting.

On the floor lay several people, along with equipment ripped straight from car seats—mysterious yet impressive.

The computer teacher was examining the devices.

“These things look incredibly high-end, yet not a single brand mark remains—their origin must be extraordinary.”

The computer teacher studied the screen and keyboard, hesitated a moment, then cautiously tapped a few keys.

Three head models appeared on the screen.

Though the hair and beards were crudely rendered, it was instantly clear two of them were Feng Jianhua and Yuan Chongxiao.

“I get it—this must be a surveillance system.”

The computer teacher snapped her fingers, “I opened the history log—these people used this device to scan the principal and the others not long ago.”

“There must be another device for gathering information remotely.”

The computer teacher rummaged through a nearby box and found seven white boxes inside, with one empty slot.

Each box had tiny light holes around its edges and concealed mechanical limbs beneath.

Feng Jianhua arrived and saw the small boxes—he drew a deep, slow breath.

Yuan Zhonglu spoke in a tone like a movie narrator, her voice grave: “All my life I’ve hunted swallows and eagles—now I’ve been pecked in the eye by a sparrow.”

Feng Jianhua froze: “You little girl, why do you talk like an old crone?”

Yuan Zhonglu obediently murmured “Oh,” and fell silent.

She usually carried herself with calm poise, never appearing youthful or naive—but before these old men, she liked to act playful.

Her interruption diffused the anger that had been rising among the seasoned veterans.

Feng Jianhua said, “Enough. One learns until the day one dies. This hidden enemy among the masses has given us a warning.”

Yuan Chongxiao stepped forward, knelt beside Wang Bo, and pressed one palm to his chest.

“This man’s internal energy is remarkably pure—unlike Li Guangzong’s condition.”

Yuan Chongxiao looked at Chu Tianshu. “Mr. Chu, you’re a spirit-medium—use your art to interrogate him.”

Chu Tianshu said, “I intended to try, but though I’ve sealed his acupoints, his mind remains clear and recovers quickly—truth-binding spells won’t work well.”

“The others are weaker, but they’re deeply unconscious—I haven’t had time to test them yet.”

Yuan Chongxiao smiled. “That’s because his foundation is strong—even with acupoints blocked, his meridians still generate faint internal energy between the obstructions.”

As he spoke, the pale blue glow in his palms grew brighter.

“I’ll flood his body with my internal energy to suppress his.”

“As long as my energy holds, he’ll be as powerless as an ordinary man.”

Chu Tianshu nodded eagerly. “Then I’ll try again.”

Wang Bo already had needles inserted into his head.

Chu Tianshu selected one at the crown, pressed two fingers together, and silently chanted the truth-binding incantation.

The silver needle trembled, leaving afterimages and emitting a faint hum.

Wang Bo’s eyelids twitched—he didn’t open them, but his eyeballs beneath rolled faster and more erratically.

“Lín!”

Chu Tianshu intoned loudly, “What is your name? What martial art do you practice? Are you from the Ghost Market? What is your position?”

Wang Bo’s eyes snapped open, his pupils staring blankly at the ceiling.

“My name is Wang Bo. I practice Spirit Turtle Stillness and Flying Snake Sword Art. I am the procurement supervisor of the Ghost Market.”

Procurement supervisor—that’s a high-ranking position.

Why would someone so important come personally to steal?

A strange unease flickered through Chu Tianshu.

But the Ghost Market isn’t a legitimate organization—perhaps this supervisor is just eccentric.

“Where is your Ghost Market located? Who are its key members? Especially the highest-ranking person you know—speak!”

The needle above Wang Bo’s head continued to vibrate; his voice grew distant.

“Our Ghost Market primarily sources goods domestically, shipping them to Southeast Asia—we’re well-known in international underground trade…”

“This nation holds one-seventh of the world’s population, densely packed, with clear household registrations and precise birth dates—this is a vast, ideal market…”

“Antiquities, ritual artifacts, materials needed for forging magical tools…”

“But firearms were banned in 1996, and public security has improved greatly in recent years—setting up transaction sites inland is too inconvenient, so domestically we serve only as pure suppliers…”

Chu Tianshu’s gaze darkened.

“If you want to detail your crimes, speak to the King of Hell—don’t waste my time with rambling.”

He steadied himself, his hands turning like lotus petals—left hand below, right hand above—he re-formed the sword seal.

“Answer accurately: Who is your leader?”

Chu Tianshu’s low command made every needle on Wang Bo’s body tremble.

“Our director…”

Wang Bo’s face twisted in sudden terror. “No—the director can’t be named! Our immediate superior is Du Chen… ah!”

Yuan Chongxiao sensed something wrong and slammed both hands down with full force.

Chu Tianshu also sensed the anomaly.

A burst of blood erupted from the back of Wang Bo’s neck.

Blood spattered to the right.

Ding! Ding! Ding!!

Three silver needles pierced through the blood and embedded themselves in the tile.

A strange, bone-white creature, as long as a finger, writhed violently, its body pierced by the three needles, emitting a faint hiss.

“Cultivation worm!!”

Yuan Chongxiao’s face darkened. “He’s dead.”

“I just ran my internal energy through every meridian in his body—I didn’t sense a single worm inside.”

Chu Tianshu stared at the creature, his expression grim.

When he pulled Wang Bo from the wall, his force had passed through every part of his body.

During the interrogation, his mental energy had also penetrated deeply—yet he’d detected nothing.

The white-shelled creature wriggled its head and tail—on first glance, it resembled a centipede.

But its body was more like a slender prismatic column, not flat like a centipede’s.

Its bone-white sheen, segmented body, and protruding legs…

Chu Tianshu’s brow tightened further.

This creature looked like a miniature spine.

A spine that could hiss, crawl, and struggle.

The computer teacher had covered her mouth.

Merely looking at it two more seconds made her feel nauseous.

“Teacher, please step outside.”

Chu Tianshu walked toward the other unconscious men and flicked one with his toe.

The man rolled over, his neck exposed upward.

Chu Tianshu’s silver needles sliced like blades, matching the exact spot where Wang Bo’s neck had burst, and slashed swiftly.

The motion was exquisitely precise—not a single major vessel was damaged.

His force parted the skin and flesh like waves, gently parting them to the sides.

The worm clinging to the cervical vertebrae was instantly revealed.

Before the worm could react, two needles flashed.

All its fine legs were severed; its mouthparts blocked by the needles, it was flipped into the air.

Throughout, Chu Tianshu did not harm a single vertebra.

But the moment he lifted the worm, his expression changed.

The captive’s breathing and heartbeat had both ceased.

“This worm is physical, yet it’s invisibly bound to these people’s lives.”

Chu Tianshu said, “The moment it leaves the body, the host dies instantly.”

Yuan Chongxiao stood up: “They use these cultivation worms to prevent Ghost Market members from revealing vital information after capture.”

The cultivation of gu magic in this person behind me is truly extraordinary.

Feng Jianhua stared at the insect still writhing beneath the three silver needles.

It had been pierced through for quite some time, yet it remained lively and vigorous, as if unaffected.

“Perhaps because this insect itself is no ordinary creature.”

Feng Jianhua had also raised a few insects before.

The art of insect rearing among martial artists pales in comparison to the myriad strange and unpredictable forms of gu magic.

But some principles are universal.

How advanced a gu insect can become sometimes depends not on the cultivator’s realm, but on the insect’s innate condition.

Chu Tianshu felt a subtle stir in his heart, dropped the insect he had been piercing, and crushed it under his foot.

Then he silently summoned the token’s screen.

【White Bone Centipede (Gu): A spirit realm species that has drifted into the mortal world, inciting evil and suppressing good, serving as the vanguard for kings.】

Trait: Once fused into the human body, the White Bone Centipede becomes bound to its host’s life, stimulating latent potential, making it easier to open the meridians, purifying mental force, and refining internal energy.

Yet Wuxingzhizhong , the host’s mindset gradually aligns with that of the spirit realm centipede population.

After being refined into a gu insect by mortal gu magic, it retains its original potential, can monitor specific mental tendencies, and kill its host while remaining unharmed itself.

Chu Tianshu had merely been testing it.

This insect truly is a malevolent spirit—and a spirit realm species. Good token; sometimes it can serve as an encyclopedia.

“I think I’ve seen this insect in a book before.”

Chu Tianshu mused, “It’s called the White Bone Centipede, a creature native to the spirit realm. Once parasitizing a human body, it can stimulate latent potential.”

“White Bone Centipede… stimulates latent potential?”

Feng Jianhua stroked his stubble, deep in thought. “I feel like I’ve heard of it somewhere too.”

Suddenly, his face lit up with realization. He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Hello, Guan Ya? Yes, it’s me. I remember you mentioned back in ’99, when you returned to campus, that your team had launched a project using some kind of centipede as raw material—if successful, it could broadly enhance people’s strength?”

Yuan Zhonglu whispered, “Sister Ya is the top science student in our martial arts school. She transferred to another school halfway through, and later, with our recommendation, joined the Special Capture Bureau and moved to Chang’an for research.”

Chu Tianshu gave a slight nod.

For a school of Jin Dao Martial Arts’ scale, having alumni placed in the Special Capture Bureau over decades is perfectly normal.

He listened to the reply on the other end.

“...That project was shut down last year.”

Guan Ya said, “We spent years trying to edit genes, crossbreed, and domesticate them. The domestication level became very high, and the danger of symbiosis with the human body was reduced to the minimum.”

“But after reporting to higher authorities, someone brought in some artifacts said to be relics of ancient gods and spirits for testing—and found those centipedes showed extreme obedience.”

“Ordinary people facing those objects might simply collapse under the pressure, but someone with a centipede implanted might be controlled, turning against their own side.”

“The research team leading this project applied repeatedly, claiming they could further improve it, but the project was firmly shut down.”

“Only rumors suggest a new project might be launched based on this, exploring ink-charm research—crushing the centipedes and mixing them with other materials, but never using them alive.”

Guan Ya explained patiently, “Why are you suddenly asking about this, Principal Feng? Our martial arts school must never touch these things.”

“If there’s truly a usable product, I’ll recommend our school to the higher-ups.”

Feng Jianhua replied with a few words of concern, then asked, “Was there anyone on the research team with the surname Du?”

Guan Ya said, “The lead researcher on this project seemed to be surnamed Du.”

“Everyone back then said that if this project succeeded, he’d get a much higher title.”

(End of Chapter)