Chapter 60: Underground Fighting Arena

Before heading to the underground fighting ring, Lobo intended to craft a temporary alchemical prosthetic limb for Zhang Ji.

Crafting it would take some time, so Zhang Ji seized the opportunity to continue studying the Guning language.

New Furloth had originally seceded from the nation of Guning, which was why the Guning language was spoken here as well.

There were only slight local variations in accent.

Even so, most of it was intelligible.

Zhang Ji learned rapidly. Before Lobo finished crafting his right leg, he had already mastered over two thousand words used in daily conversation.

"Done?"

Zhang Ji looked at the metallic right leg in Lobo's hand.

It was covered in rust from top to bottom, dotted with weld marks everywhere, and showed no special features whatsoever. Instead, it gave the impression that wearing it would guarantee an infection.

"Although the materials are slightly lacking, my craftsmanship is still quite good. Put it on and try it out," Lobo said, handing over the limb.

Zhang Ji asked, "How do I wear it?"

"Just put it in and secure it, much like putting on a shoe," Lobo replied.

Zhang Ji stood up, inserted the stump of his right thigh into the prosthetic right leg, and then adjusted a mechanical dial nearby, tightly locking it in place against his flesh-and-blood leg.

He lifted his leg; the lower leg beneath the knee joint dangled loosely, and the metal foot hung limply, looking utterly useless at a glance.

"There's no neural sensing. Are you sure this thing works? I can't command it at all. I'd be better off using a crutch," Zhang Ji frowned and said.

"Don't rush, it's still missing something."

Lobo fetched a bottle of green, viscous liquid and poured it over the connection point between Zhang Ji's right leg and the prosthetic.

Faintly, Zhang Ji felt some feedback transmitted from the metallic right leg.

That viscous liquid altered the properties of the metal, while the right leg began attempting to establish a connection with Zhang Ji's right leg. It extended fine metal nerves that constantly probed around Zhang Ji's limb, seeking to merge with his natural nerves.

"Revitalization potion? Is this how you give people prosthetics?"

A bizarre expression appeared on Zhang Ji's face, made even more terrifying by his disfigured visage.

"Is there a problem?" Lobo asked.

"No," Zhang Ji answered.

Revitalization potion.

An alchemical concoction capable of imbuing lifeless objects with vitality.

When poured onto dead matter, the object would develop a consciousness akin to a living organism, and its internal structure would become active, transforming into an alternate life-form.

Naturally, this vitality was very weak, and the possibility of directly creating an intelligent life-form from it did not exist.

However, revitalized materials possessed remarkably strong compatibility and a fierce survival instinct. Therefore, as long as they were transplanted onto a human body, they would actively cooperate with the host and even undergo self-modification in exchange for a chance of parasitic survival.

Suddenly, Zhang Ji felt the fine metal nerves pierce inward around his leg. At this moment, with just a tiny exertion of force, he could shatter them, but Zhang Ji did not do so. Instead, he allowed them to make contact with the cells of his leg.

Smoothly, they grew together, and then the metal began to fuse with his flesh and blood.

Half an hour later.

Zhang Ji gently tapped his metallized right leg, and it fed back tactile sensations, as if it truly belonged as a part of his own skin.

He flexed the toes of his right leg, operating each one individually as though his right leg had naturally grown this way from birth.

This was alchemical technology.

Though called technology, Zhang Ji felt it was much closer to magic.

Zhang Ji stood up. There was no height difference between his two feet, and it felt similar to his original limb; the dimensions were correct.

He exerted a tiny bit of force and tried to kick with his right leg.

"Whoosh~!"

The right leg stirred up a current of air, blowing the nearby bottles and jars into disarray.

However, Zhang Ji felt that the nerves in his right leg had suffered some minor fractures.

"Is the maximum output limit only around the sixth stage of professional combat? Furthermore, primordial energy cannot be injected into it; the metal strongly rejects it. There is no sensation of muscular exertion, but it can move and seems to still be self-adjusting, studying cell memory, and simulating muscle movement..."

Zhang Ji made his judgment internally.

If alchemical technology could be properly controlled and steadily advanced, it was indeed a commendable technological path.

Unfortunately, too many people were eager for quick success.

"How is it? My craftsmanship is decent, right?" Lobo asked.

"Not bad," Zhang Ji said.

"It's more than just not bad. With this concentration of revitalization potion, fewer than ten people across all of New Furloth can formulate it," Lobo said. "Do you have any idea how much brain matter I consumed just to make this single bottle?"

The "brain matter consumed" here did not mean mental effort.

It meant literal brains.

One of the ingredients for the revitalization potion was animal brain tissue.

The smarter the creature, the better the effect.

And on this planet, the smartest creatures were, naturally, human beings.

It was precisely because alchemical technology so severely violated ethical and moral standards in certain aspects that the Eastern Polar Nation openly banned it.

"Then next, we can go inspect the underground fighting ring," Zhang Ji said in the Guning language.

"No, you still need to change clothes. Looking like a stowaway dressed like a beggar, you're guaranteed to be stopped at the entrance," Lobo replied instinctively before reacting and saying, "You speak Guning? Then why were you using a translation app?"

"I'm not very fluent, so I need the translation app as an auxiliary tool," Zhang Ji fabricated an excuse off the top of his head.

Lobo had no doubts and immediately began to make preparations.

Apart from the loose trench coat he wore, the clothes underneath Zhang Ji's coat were completely tattered, and he wore no shoes on his feet.

Lobo found a set of his own widest clothes for Zhang Ji to change into, went out to buy him a pair of leather shoes, and only then prepared to set off with Zhang Ji for the underground fighting ring.

Lobo owned a pickup truck, which he usually used to scavenge scrap metal.

These items were worthless in the hands of others, but in his hands, they could be given a new lease on life.

The combination of crude materials and alchemical science could work many miracles.

Seated inside the pickup truck, Zhang Ji, in the passenger seat, asked Lobo, "Why did those two people try to cause trouble for you earlier?"

"Dean Hospital is the largest prosthetic modification hospital around here, and I stole a portion of their business. It's as simple as that," Lobo said.

"The Dean Gang?" Zhang Ji said thoughtfully.

"Right. All businesses here have to pay taxes to the Dean Gang. They are the true rulers of Midris; the government is merely a symbolic presence here," Lobo said. "Actually, I've always followed the rules. I've never stopped paying taxes, and I'm even a major taxpayer. It's just that the Dean Gang wanted to recruit me into their fold, and I refused."

"Why did you refuse?" Zhang Ji asked, puzzled.

"You know how it is. Within a faction, you can't entirely follow your own desires anymore," Lobo said. "My greatest wish is to complete the research on Dela bloodline transplantation, rather than staying with them just to attach prosthetics to people."

Conversing as they drove, they soon arrived in front of a towering skyscraper.

Lobo parked the truck at a distance and led Zhang Ji toward the building.

There was actually a security checkpoint here.

However, neither Zhang Ji nor Lobo carried firearms or weapons of any kind, so the guards simply let the two of them pass.

They boarded the elevator and descended all the way to the fifth basement level.

The environment here abruptly shifted.

Red lights and green wine, crowds surging, swaying on the dance floor. On the stage, scantily clad women clung to pole dances, wantily displaying their figures. Some people poured drinks over their bodies, and they did not refuse, opening their mouths to receive it all.

Lobo led Zhang Ji through the area, pushed open a door, and after passing down a long corridor, they encountered a black curtain, a counter, and several large-built guards waiting there.

"Two tickets, please," Lobo said.

"Two thousand New Furloth dollars," the cashier at the counter said.

Lobo took out his phone, scanned the code, paid the fee online, and entered behind the curtain with Zhang Ji.

Behind the curtain was a hallway. Following the hallway downward, they finally arrived at the underground fighting arena.

In the spectator stands, flushed and excited onlookers shouted at the top of their lungs. Not far away, in an arena larger than a basketball court, two martial artists were trading blows. Their moves were ruthless and vicious, and every single attack was intended to take a life.

There was no such thing as stopping at the contact of a point here; killing your opponent was a testament to your capability.

In fact, for the sake of entertainment, even if you tried to surrender, the referee might indulge your opponent and slaughter you on the spot.

"Bang~! Crack~!"

On the stage, a figure was kicked flying, slamming into the special tempered glass used as a barrier, causing several cracks to spread across it.

The audience felt no fear; instead, they erupted into even more fervent cheers.

"How is it?" Lobo asked Zhang Ji in a low voice.

"What level is the winner considered around here?" Zhang Ji asked.

"Upper-middle, I suppose," Lobo said.

"Fightable," Zhang Ji nodded and said. "Where do I sign up?"

In his eyes, the winner was roughly around the fifth stage of professional combat. Without joking, a single finger of his was enough to beat the man to death.

"You want to go up right now?" Lobo asked.

"Isn't it better to earn money sooner?" Zhang Ji retorted.

"Makes sense."

Lobo nodded in deep agreement, then pulled Zhang Ji toward the direction of the arena.

They reached the edge of the stage and met the manager in charge.

A bald middle-aged man around one meter eighty tall, wearing a name tag on his chest that read "Joe Hines."

"Joe!" Lobo shouted loudly. "We want to get in the ring."

"Name?" Joe looked at Zhang Ji and asked.

"Just pick a fierce-looking nickname! 'Iron Leg' or 'Fearsome Face'—anything works!" Lobo reminded Zhang Ji.

"Extreme Dragon!" Zhang Ji stated.

Joe jotted down the name, pointed toward a passage on the side, and told Zhang Ji, "Go on stage from over there. After this match finishes, you're up next. Win and you get twenty thousand; lose and you get five thousand."

It was just that simple.

If you wanted to fight, you stepped onto the stage.

You fought, you got paid, and anyone could enter.

Naturally, the prerequisite was that you had to be willing to risk your life, or be confident enough in yourself to possess the strength to earn that money.

Zhang Ji took off his trench coat, handed it to Lobo, and said, "Bet on me to win."

Lobo murmured softly in Zhang Ji's ear, "If possible, drag it out for a few more moves. The odds won't drop too fast, and we can make a bit more..."

Zhang Ji gave a slight nod and strode forward.

Although this was his first time encountering such a combat arena, not only did he feel no sense of awkwardness, but it also stirred up memories of his time on Shanli Island.

Back then, he had also fought wave after wave of opponents in the gladiatorial arena before finally winning the position of a true disciple of the Five Forms Sect.

After sitting in the waiting area for a short while, the two fighters on the stage decided the outcome.

The loser was carried out of the arena. His head hung limply, his cervical vertebrae broken; presumably, he wouldn't live to collect his money.

"You're up!" the staff member in the waiting area said to Zhang Ji.

Zhang Ji stood up and walked from the passageway toward the ring.

"Coming up next to enter the arena is [Extreme Dragon], and his opponent is [Starving Wolf], who has already secured three consecutive victories..."