Chapter 46: I Can Sense My Blood, Stacking Gunpowder Kegs

Hum—

Text message vibration alert.

Ma Bin squinted at the text message, his emotions swayed by its contents, rising and falling.

A long quarter of an hour later.

Ma Bin put down his phone, his expression shifting between cloudy and clear, finally letting out a sigh and muttering: "Truly the worst outcome—no one died on either side. It really proves that saying: bad guys are just hard to kill."

Ma Bin's mind turned: "Three against one, and they almost got counter-killed. This cripple isn't just sinister and cunning; his strength shouldn't be underestimated either."

Ma Bin had also considered that the cripple's words couldn't be fully trusted—the other side might have deliberately exaggerated the results, perhaps not truly crippling anyone, but escaping alive from a three-person pincer attack was certainly no lie.

How could he have guessed that Feng Mu's words weren't merely untrustworthy, but that not a single word could be believed—just damn ridiculous.

Even more ridiculous was that Feng Mu wasn't exactly lying either; the contents of his words basically restored the facts.

Just say—was he ganged up on by three Black Market merchants? Did he escape alive? Did he deadlock one person, equivalent to crippling one for Ma Bin? ~

Ma Bin read the phone message again, understanding the cripple's hint and warning.

Taken at face value, these few text messages could be considered kind reminders, but thinking it over, one would understand the cripple was warning him not to default on the debt, and certainly not to entertain dangerous thoughts.

After all, if Black Market merchants couldn't even surround him, the Green Wolf Gang shouldn't dream of setting traps and ambushes for him—be careful of losing both the chicken and the eggs and smashing all your teeth.

Most importantly, it reminded him that now there was a common enemy lurking in the dark, so we shouldn't quibble between us.

Ma Bin's face darkened, with a thousand words in his heart not knowing where to start cursing.

But the text message he edited in reply became:

——What are the characteristics of those Black Market merchants?

The text was replied to instantly:

——A middle-aged man, whose fake smile is full of chrysanthemums, plus two with dark faces.

On that end, Feng Mu grinned, knowing this text message contained the meaning of tacit agreement.

The risk of Ma Bin defaulting couldn't be said to be nonexistent, but at least it had dropped by half; Feng Mu could consider finding a time to make a withdrawal.

Stepping out of the bedroom, he casually dished out three bowls of rice.

While eating, Wang Xiuli told him that Feng Ju's side had called back; judging by the meaning, the big fish still hadn't taken the hook, and the Patrol Bureau could barely hold back, about to cast the net.

Feng Mu's pupils shrank slightly; his heart was far from as calm as his face appeared.

Returning to the bedroom, sitting blankly at the desk for several minutes, Feng Mu took a few deep breaths, rubbed his cheeks hard with both hands, and when he stood up again, his mouth was already stuffed with a handful of iron bead powder.

【Metal detected—Pig Iron, edible!】

【Occupy a new edible slot?】

【Occupy!】

【Current edible slot 1: Pig Iron (consumption 0.1/100%)】

【Consumption ↑】

No more time to waver and hesitate—first open a new edible slot, hurry up and level up, boost combat power.

As for the other edible slot, whether to choose 【Rusty Iron】 or have a chance to unlock 【Yin Sha Nine Nether Calamity Evil Iron】, it's not too late to decide after Pig Iron is fully consumed.

"I shouldn't have slept in vain last night, wasting precious time." Feng Mu felt vexed inside.

Within this month, his diligence had already surpassed 99% of the grind-crazed people in the whole world, yet he was still not satisfied.

If only there were a trait that didn't require sleep and never got tired… this was Feng Mu's greatest hope and wish every night before sleeping.

While starting to swallow iron again, Feng Mu pulled open the drawer, took out a syringe, mercilessly stabbed it into his arm, and drew out blood in gushes.

"What was missed last night must be made up double today," he thought.

Feng Mu hardened his heart, drawing a full three tubes of blood, and this time he didn't plan to flush the drawn blood down the toilet like the past few days, but store it in an opaque thermos.

【Grand Feast】: Blood of the same kind is full of tempting fragrance; devour them, and you shall gain eternal life~

Treating others as blood bags will surely make one's soul degenerate into inhumanity.

Then, treating oneself as a blood bag—would one still degenerate into inhumanity?

Maybe not, maybe even more inhuman; Feng Mu couldn't say, but he intended to try it, he had no choice.

The situation suddenly changed; Ma Bin would obviously speed up his rise, the Patrol Bureau side was also about to cast the net, and the stimulated Black Market merchants… various dangers, both open and hidden, gave Feng Mu a feeling of things heating up.

If the above dangers could come one by one in order, Feng Mu was fairly confident he could hold it down.

But, in the dark there was a strange feeling; Feng Mu vaguely felt that these several seemingly unrelated gunpowder kegs might not be detonated at the same time, exploding together into a big firework.

One gunpowder keg, Feng Mu said 【Iron Eater】 could tank it;

Two gunpowder kegs, Feng Mu felt using 【Blood Frenzy】 could also tank it;

But,

Three gunpowder kegs stacked together—without 【Grand Feast】, he truly might not be able to tank it.

Feng Mu wanted to see fireworks, and even felt a bit restless wanting to light fireworks, but he absolutely didn't want to be blown to smithereens and become fireworks in others' eyes.

The blood in three syringes happened to fill the thermos exactly.

Feng Mu screwed the cup lid tight, put it into his messenger bag, and from tomorrow on, he would carry it with him every day.

"Pity, after blood leaves one's own body, the shelf life is only 24 hours," Feng Mu thought, fortunately he could replace it every day.

The 24-hour shelf life wasn't a number Feng Mu came up with on a whim, but something he had tested a few days ago, although not by drinking it.

But by sensing it.

When Feng Mu first drew blood, he discovered that after his own blood left his body, if stored in a metal container, he could sense the blood's location and vitality.

The blood lost in the blood battle with Zhang Tong couldn't be sensed because it splattered onto the ground and was directly contaminated, losing activity instantly.

That day after drawing blood, when he quietly carried an iron basin to the restroom to pour into the toilet, he discovered this trait.

When the blood was in the iron basin, he could sense it; after the blood was poured into the toilet, the sensing disappeared.

Thus, Feng Mu inferred that his blood needed metal, more specifically iron metal, to be stored, in order to maintain vitality outside the body.

That makes sense; after all, 【Blood Frenzy】 and 【Iron Eater】 were born as entries together, so it's only natural they'd have a bit of a special bond~

And storing blood in iron metal containers, the vitality isn't preserved permanently; it can only last 24 hours. After 24 hours, Feng Mu could no longer sense his own blood.

Incidentally, this sensing ignores distance — meaning if someone stole a tin of Feng Mu's blood, within 24 hours, even if that person fled to the ends of the earth, Feng Mu would still be able to sense the coordinates of that tin of blood.

A seemingly useless little ability; after all, Feng Mu couldn't think of who would be crazy enough to come steal his blood.

But then, what if it were used in reverse~

Feng Mu put the syringe back in the drawer, his gaze lingering on the Black Core for a while, and a scheme's embryo took shape in his mind.

"If this really works, that Black Core might just make me a killing in one go~" Feng Mu muttered to himself, his eyes flickering with a pitch-black gloom.

He stood by the window, watching the night sky outside gradually darken; he could not see the person tailing and surveilling him, but he knew that person definitely hadn't left.

Which one would it be?

The middle-aged chrysanthemum-smiling man, the ordinary swarthy-faced man, or that swarthy-faced man who plays with ants?

He drew the curtains.

Feng Mu gathered his thoughts, immersed his mind, and began practicing the Body Forging Exercise...

(End of Chapter)