“That’s it!”
This was the idea that had first occurred to him.
The Tendon-Severing Nematode!
Shopkeeper Lu’s description of the parasite’s effects replayed in his mind. If these worms functioned similarly to the Meridian-Unblocking Grass seeds—violently tearing through blockages—could they be used to trigger a Bloodline Breakthrough in Rare Fowl?
Sure, the nematodes were crude, weaker, and undeniably gross. But they were cheap.
Dirt cheap. They cost a twentieth of the price of low-grade Meridian-Unblocking Grass seeds.
With costs that low, he didn’t need precision. He could adopt a “shotgun approach.” He would infect every single Rare Fowl with a Tendon-Severing Nematode.
If even one chicken successfully completed a Bloodline Breakthrough and evolved into Spirit Poultry, it would prove the concept.
Once the method was established, no matter how abysmal the success rate, he would have a legitimate cover story. He could openly reveal his stock of Spirit Poultry.
Even if he had to hand the method over to the Sect, it didn’t matter. If they tested it and found the efficiency garbage? Well, that was just bad luck. The concept of fortune and luck is deeply mysterious; no one can truly predict it.
The priority now was to verify feasibility.
Wang Ba didn’t rush in blindly. During the day, he carefully selected twenty healthy Rare Fowl—ten males, ten females—marked them, and isolated them in separate coops.
Only after night fell did he creep over to the feed vat and retrieve twenty Spirit Stones.
His heart ached as he held them. Twenty Spirit Stones.
Twenty Spirit Stones could buy more than 130 male Rare Fowl. After Lifespan Breakthrough, they could supply nearly eight hundred years of lifespan—enough for the fourth, fifth, and sixth layers of the Physique Strengthening Scripture!
But Wang Ba was a pragmatist. He knew that without a Spiritual Root, a Ninth Layer body cultivator was still just a mortal ant in the eyes of true cultivators.
Without a Spiritual Root, a menial worker would always be a menial worker.
You can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.
For the first time, a glimmer of ruthlessness hardened Wang Ba’s eyes.
He raised the iron hammer.
BANG!
He swung with full force. The Spirit Stone, tough as diamond, remained largely intact, shedding only a fine mist of dust from its edges.
Wang Ba didn’t hesitate. He swung again.
BANG! BANG!
Fortunately, he lived in a deserted, run-down manor. In an alley near the market, he would soon have been driven away.
Even so, by the time the sky began to gray with dawn, he had only managed to grind three Spirit Stones into powder.
Without the improved strength and endurance from the Physique Strengthening Scripture, he could not have kept going all night.
“Pity. The amount of Spirit Stone powder mixed into the standard chicken feed is negligible,” Wang Ba muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “Otherwise, I could just use the feed.”
Since he could see spiritual energy, he could judge how little the feed contained. A great vat of almost a hundred jin held less than one-tenth of a Spirit Stone’s worth.
Making use of waste indeed.
Since he had so little powder, Wang Ba decided to wait a few days and feed the test subjects all at once. This would make it easier to compare data and observe the results.
Wang Ba slapped his forehead.
After a moment of deliberation, he decided there was only one way to know for sure. He had to experiment.
He locked the door and lit a single oil lamp. With his hand wrapped in thick cloth, he carefully pinched a Tendon-Severing Nematode out of the gourd.
It was pitch black, a writhing line of ink. Upon closer inspection, he could see fine flagella vibrating at both ends and rows of microscopic, jagged teeth.
Perhaps sensing the nearby Spirit Stone powder, the creature went berserk. Its body twisted and elongated like a manic earthworm. Wang Ba could feel it straining, as if ready to tear its own body in half just to reach the energy source.
He hurriedly moved the jar of powder further away.
Only then did the nematode settle down, lazily writhing in his palm.
Even through the cloth, Wang Ba’s skin crawled. He had always hated bugs, especially ones that looked like this.
He hesitated.
“Do I really have to put this thing inside me?”
Yes. He planned to test the effects personally.
After seeing Shopkeeper Lu’s demonstration, he was confident the worms were not dangerous to people. Whether they could really open meridians remained to be seen, and he wanted to try them himself.
It would test his limits, both physical and mental.
Lu had let it crawl into his ear without flinching.
Wang Ba stared at the worm. Won’t this thing bore into my brain and start eating?
The image of his skull being hollowed out made him want to fling the creature across the room.
“Entering from the head is absolutely out of the question!”
There were only so many openings in the body: eyes, ears, nose, mouth, navel… and the front and back below.
If the top was off-limits, that left… the bottom.
Wang Ba shuddered violently. Nope. Absolutely not. Too beautiful to imagine.
Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a small knife, sterilized it over the lamp flame, and sliced a hair-thin cut on his finger.
“Hss! That stings!”
This was the maximum concession from a ‘tough guy’ who was terrified of needles.
Whether it smelled the blood or just had a natural fetish for holes, the nematode instantly perked up. As Wang Ba brought his finger close, the worm lunged, burying its head into the cut with terrifying enthusiasm.
A translucent panel flickered above it:
[Target Lifespan: 0.2 years]
The next second, Wang Ba’s eyes bugged out.
FUCK!
That bastard Lu screwed me!
“FUCK!”
Forget practicing a technique—it was hard enough to remain conscious.
Wang Ba, whose willpower was average at best, instantly collapsed. He curled up on the floor, bent into a tight ball like a boiled shrimp, shaking uncontrollably.
Fortunately, he had set a Spirit Stone nearby as a precaution.
Through the haze of white-hot torture, his trembling hand groped for the Spirit Stone he had set aside.
Almost immediately, the agony receded. The nematode shot out of his nostril, abandoning his flesh to wrap itself greedily around the Spirit Stone.
Wang Ba sat on the ground without a thought for appearances, exhaling in relief, his hands still shaking.
He could not be sure, but the nematode did seem a little shorter. Perhaps it really had some effect.
“I don’t care! No matter how well it works, I’m never using that method again!”
No wonder Lu sold them at half price. Who would pay money to be tortured?
After resting for a while, he managed to pry the worm from the Spirit Stone and return it to the gourd.
He needed to verify if this worked on Rare Fowl.
To avoid wasting a chicken, he chose a rooster from the twenty he had selected the day before.
Steeling his heart, he tried to shove the nematode into the rooster’s nostril.
The rooster, seeing a delicious worm, immediately opened its beak to snap at it.
Fortunately, Wang Ba quickly clamped the rooster’s beak shut.
With a bit of maneuvering, the nematode successfully wiggled into the rooster’s nostril.
Wang Ba immediately scrambled back two steps, shooing away the other chickens. He stared intently at the test subject.
Even he could not bear that pain. How would a chicken cope?
Chickens were fragile creatures. They were neurotic and prone to stress. It was common knowledge that a loud clap of thunder could scare an entire coop of chickens to death.
If the pain triggered a severe stress reaction, the rooster might just drop dead on the spot.
That was the biggest risk. A high mortality rate wouldn’t ruin the “laundering” plan, but dead chickens were lost profits.
Wang Ba held his breath, his eyes locked on the rooster.
The rooster seemed to sense the tension. It froze, its beady eyes locking onto Wang Ba.
Man and chicken stared at each other in heavy silence.
One breath.
Five breaths.
Ten breaths.
The rooster tilted its head and looked at Wang Ba curiously.
“Cluck?”