Chapter Twenty-Two: Medicine

The essence of the Bloodflesh Wraith’s supernatural ability lay in spatial traversal: it could ignore any obstacle and move directly from one point to another. However, this power bore a significant limitation—the entry and exit points for its passage had to be sharp corners, either right angles or acute angles. This constraint severely restricted its routes, and ultimately, it fell into Adontha’s grasp.

Even as the Bloodflesh Wraith’s tendril struck out one final time, riddling five split bodies like sieves, it still could not resist Adontha’s overpowering control. This creature, whose very existence revolved around slaughter, was now seized by a terror greater than any it had known—save for that which it had felt towards its creator. It was as though it were a tiny insect ensnared in a spider’s web, struggling in vain against its doom.

Suppressing the Wraith’s last desperate throes, Adontha bundled both the creature and the corpses into a sack, swiftly leaving the scene after incapacitating the security guards, who lay scattered across the floor. The entire confrontation had lasted less than five minutes, leaving almost no one with time to respond appropriately.

It was not until ten minutes later that the thunderous roar of helicopter rotors descended upon the place. When the aircraft was still ten meters above the ground, three figures dropped like iron weights, cracking the polished marble floor as they landed and quickly surged into the grand atrium inside.

A cursory glance was enough for them to reach their conclusions. Li Zhicheng lifted the limp arm of an unconscious guard, frowning. “Heavy-handed technique—at least eight bones broken. These guards will be bedridden for the rest of their lives.”

The trio showed little sentiment for such a grim reality, instead moving swiftly to conduct their investigation.

“What about surveillance footage?”

“It was destroyed in advance.”

“Any samples from the scene?”

“We have preliminary results. The blood here contains growth factors, and some unidentified fluids are rich in granulocytes and necrotic tissue—in short, pus.”

“No wonder it reeks so much,” Guo Yixian said. “There were at least two different types of beings here. One was human—or at least human-like—the other was something half-decayed…”

Che Juchen replied with certainty, “It’s a bioweapon from Amest. They must have used some method to accelerate the creation of these monsters. Their rapid metabolism keeps their tissues in a constant state of decay and regeneration, which naturally produces this stench.”

Guo Yixian nodded, then raised a new question. “But why would such a bioweapon suddenly appear here? Its appearance and odor make it impossible to move about unnoticed.”

Che Juchen, clearly more versed in Amest’s research than his colleagues, said, “There are even darker rumors concerning bioweapons and the Biocrisis Center…”

Tindalos.

That was the true name of the Bloodflesh Wraith.

It could traverse between any angles less than ninety degrees, moving inconceivably through the cracks of space, capable of assassinating anyone even under the tightest protection—a perfect killer.

After carefully merging with its brain, Adontha discovered that Tindalos’s consciousness was not simply bestial; there were clear signs of formatting. This pale head had once belonged, unsurprisingly, to a human. Some visionary genius had transformed a timid spatial adept into a fearsome killing aberration: the Tindalos of today.

Adontha was fascinated by this cruel yet perfect instance of biological modification.

Tindalos’s body was undoubtedly not a natural organism. It was a chimeric being, formed from the tissues of more than thirty different creatures, each organ imbued with alien genes. Its slick skin came from fish, its powerful muscles from mollusks, its segmented bones from reptiles, and its deadly toothed tongue was a modified predatory organ from a soft-bodied creature, capable of piercing wrought iron at full force.

These disparate tissues were perfectly fused within one entity, achieving astonishing functional amplification—a testament to precise and sophisticated design.

And there was evidence of yet another supernatural ability at play, Adontha realized: a power related to biological fusion, enabling the seamless integration of diverse tissues without immune rejection.

This mature approach to modification greatly benefited Adontha, who hungrily absorbed all knowledge from the body, successfully deducing most methods used, and adapting them for personal use. The secrets of supernatural powers remained as elusive as the moon reflected on water, but this strange lifeform—an amalgam of human and beast—was in itself a significant prize.

Unlike Adontha’s own sudden inspirations, Tindalos’s biotechnology was a foundation built upon countless experiments, the optimal combination of different cells and organs woven together with skill. Although the crucial issue of immune rejection had been circumvented by special abilities, the underlying research still held immense value for Adontha, whose own foundations were less secure.

This also gave Adontha clearer direction for future evolution.

After analyzing Tindalos’s rudimentary memories, Adontha found confirmation: the creature had indeed come in search of that mysterious individual—Leviathan, the Deep Sea Behemoth. It appeared that Tindalos’s creator had some arrangement with Leviathan, sending Tindalos both as protector and as overseer.

Having read these memories, Adontha decided to continue this mission, using Tindalos’s identity to bring Leviathan under personal control.

But first, the cyborg army pursuing Leviathan needed to be dealt with.

Although Tindalos’s memories had been rewritten repeatedly, Adontha could still discern that the biotechnological soldiers had also originated from Tindalos’s creator’s hand—the only difference was that control over them had shifted elsewhere.

It seemed to be a tangled web, a grand drama of power struggles.

No matter. The more chaos, the better.

Only in the midst of utter tumult could Adontha break through all barriers and rise swiftly.

The mysteries of supernatural abilities remained shrouded, yet this did not hinder Adontha from exploiting them.

Upon devouring such a unique being as Tindalos for the first time, Adontha unexpectedly discovered two options—simple consumption and parasitism, or a complete replication of the opponent’s brain structure and consciousness, thus creating a new individual.

Adontha chose the latter.

A split-body, imprinted with the entirety of Tindalos’s consciousness, gained a rudimentary independent will, fully inheriting Tindalos’s extraordinary spatial traversal power. While Adontha could still control it at will, there was no doubt that a new persona—“Tindalos”—had been born.

Adontha’s split bodies were like blank computers, and only the “Tindalos” operating system could run the “Angle Traversal” program.

This model gave Adontha some unease.

Tindalos’s mind was simple, making it easy to control—but what of those supernatural beings with strong self-awareness? Would they be as easily subdued?

Practical experience was the best test of theory. Adontha would have to experiment further to find the answer.