Chapter Two: The Martial Arts School

After finishing the transformation, it revealed a trace of satisfaction—a sentiment that, fed back into its host, manifested as a stiff, grotesque grin. This was proof of its increasingly refined control, now able to manipulate even the complex muscles of facial expression. Its movements, too, became much more agile and fluid. Adonsa directed the host to drop to all fours, lowering its head to gnaw at the scraps littering the ground.

Frugality was one of its virtues. In this harsh, fledgling stage of its enterprise, it wasn’t about to let a single molecule of protein go to waste.

This time, it had learned its lesson and only enhanced the host’s physical abilities within reasonable bounds. While maintaining a delicate internal balance, it maximized the body's digestive, metabolic, motor, and reflexive capacities.

A faint flush crept across the host’s skin, a sign the metabolism was operating at its very limit. It wasn’t that the process couldn’t be pushed faster, but the rapid metabolism would cause the host’s proteins to denature from the heat before anything else failed.

Adonsa mulled over its next move. The logical step was to develop heat-resistant proteins and other biological tissues, replacing the body’s outdated, fragile structures. This would not only strengthen the current host but also pave the way for future evolution.

A bubble of gas rumbled through the intestines, splitting—one half surged up the throat and burst out as a belch, the other drifted downward and escaped as a contented fart.

The immature host blinked, eyes clear and bright, appearing every inch the innocent boy of thirteen or fourteen—if one ignored the blood-soaked clothes and the clots of flesh and blood crusted at the corner of his mouth.

For Adonsa, the concepts of good and evil were meaningless. A being devoid of any notion of morality might well be the purest, most innocent creature of all.

It needed more food, more experimental material.

Adonsa broke into a run, but its pace was hampered by the poor vision. These carbon-based monkeys were physically inferior even to wild dogs, and lacked even basic night vision. This severely limited the host's capabilities. Only their agility was noteworthy, but in actual hunting it proved more a hindrance—too much flexibility, not enough explosive power or stability, making dislocations and fractures more likely.

Such modifications, involving the species’ fundamental limits, were beyond Adonsa’s reach for now.

As Adonsa neared the end of the alley, a boy of the same flamboyant, punkish look approached, swinging a bag of drinks.

“Hey, Nan! You here to pick me up? Why’re you covered in blood? Wait—what happened?”

The boy was sharp, immediately sensing something was wrong. Whatever he deduced, he suddenly hurled the bag of drinks at Adonsa and bolted.

But Adonsa didn’t pause for even a heartbeat. Using both hands and feet, it launched itself forward like a cheetah.

Because it was still unfamiliar with the body, and the boy was genuinely quick, Adonsa actually found itself unable to catch up at first.

The boy ran for his life, feeling as if his old friend was now sprinting after him like a wild beast—no, something even more terrifying than a cheetah.

“Help! Help me! Somebody help!” he cried desperately. Finally, the glow of neon lights appeared ahead, and the boy, gasping for breath, saw hope. Ecstatic, he screamed for help.

But just as he reached the mouth of the alley, a heavy blunt object crashed hard into the back of his head, striking precisely at the junction of his skull and spine—the exposed point of the brainstem.

The blow sent a convulsion through his entire body, and he collapsed face-first onto the bustling night market street, attracting the attention of several passersby.

It was only then that he saw what had struck him: the canned drink he’d thrown at Adonsa, now dented, its contents spilled across the ground, rolling to a stop by his ear.

He tried to scream, but dizziness clouded his thoughts and rendered him mute. Then a pair of burning-hot hands gripped his ankles, dragging him back into the familiar darkness of the alley.

Despairing, the boy whimpered, but the pedestrians only quickened their pace, unwilling to invite trouble for the sake of a punk kid like him.

At last, his face was swallowed by the darkness, and he watched the light recede, inch by inch, from his sight.

In the pitch black, a heavy, blood-reeking breath washed over his face, and a visage both familiar and alien loomed above him.

He struggled, gasping, “Nan… what’s happened to you? What about Li, and the others?”

What greeted him was a gaping maw, bloodied and dripping with flesh.

———

After this impromptu meal, Adonsa found the body even more inconvenient.

The blunt, rounded nails made it all too easy for prey to slip away; even with tremendous force, they could inflict only superficial wounds. The severely degenerated incisors and canines were ill-suited for tearing flesh, fit only for fruit and cooked food, and while the molars’ grinding was passable, Adonsa had already worn these teeth down completely—after all, it had bitten through bone with them.

Its dissatisfaction extended to nearly every other organ—most were either redundant or too feeble.

The genes weren’t bad, yet the idle habits of civilized life had stripped away both the drive to hunt and the means to escape.

Still, instinct warned that humanity was not to be judged by such simple measures. As it devoured human brains, hazy images and fragments of information poured into Adonsa’s consciousness.

It awkwardly tugged at the vocal cords, producing distorted words, the intonation uneven, like a badly played erhu.

“TV… internet café… parents… bar… big brother… gun…”

Humans had grown weak not out of necessity, but because they no longer needed strength. They possessed powers far greater than mere physicality—so great that they had no need to fear the retaliation of other creatures.

Images of gunfire and shattering bodies flashed through Adonsa’s mind—most of them dazzling scenes from film and television, but even with these flawed references, Adonsa arrived at the correct conclusion.

Humans were stronger than it was—far, far stronger.

With a mere lump of iron, humans could slaughter enemies dozens or hundreds of times their own size. This realization shook Adonsa to its core, and made it instantly aware of its earlier mistake.

Too conspicuous!

That boy’s call for help—if even one in ten passersby took it seriously, the risk of exposure would increase.

Yet the current Adonsa was nowhere near capable of blending into human society. For now, it could only lurk in the city’s shadows, hunting and feeding like a stray dog.

These complexities quickly overwhelmed Adonsa’s less-than-evolved mind. It shook its head, casting aside insoluble problems, and focused entirely on its next move.

In truth, it was simple—eat. Devour more intelligent life, analyze their brains, and acquire their capacity for thought.

Evolve, become the strongest, achieve perfection.

Adonsa mouthed these words, dragging the corpse deeper into the darkness.