Matthew watched in mild surprise as the men knelt and begged for mercy. Who was this person who instilled such fear? This so-called “Heretic Medic” appeared well-built, with a thick neck, broad shoulders, and calloused knuckles. He looked like a strong man, trained in boxing. Instinctively, Matthew sensed danger.
The Heretic Medic had emerged from a back room. Matthew peered inside and saw various machines and a large screen on the wall. The screen displayed what appeared to be a three-dimensional model of a human body, clearly showing blood flow, rhythmic heartbeat, lung expansion and contraction, and intestinal movement. Many small, glowing dots littered the model, seemingly marking acupuncture points, with dotted lines connecting them, showing some kind of flowing movement.
Matthew was astonished. Although fewer in number than he was familiar with, the chart was still very comprehensive. The dotted lines represented meridians in the body. What kind of research was this?
The Heretic Medic noticed Matthew’s fascination and asked coldly, “Do you understand what I’m researching?” Matthew, somewhat caught off guard, replied, “A little bit.”
The Heretic Medic said smugly, “I doubt you understand much. I’m researching human respiration, blood vessels, acupuncture points and meridians, skeletal structure, and the explosive power of muscle groups. This is the most scientific, multi-dimensional interpretation of the human body structure. Once my research is complete, I’ll be able to kill a bull with a single punch.”
Matthew was shocked. This was the direction ancient martial artists sought, but he was using modern instruments to research it. “Which sect are you from?” he asked. He realized this man must be an ancient martial artist.
The Heretic Medic’s expression changed slightly, his eyes widening. “Why should I tell you? You interrupted my research, and I haven’t settled the score with you yet. I need a strong living body, and you fit the bill. After I’m done researching your body, I can still fetch a good price for your organs.”
A chill ran down Matthew’s spine. Although blindfolded when brought here, he was sure they were still within Lambda City. He knew the city well—the Lambda River, the nearby Walling Mountain, and the city’s landmarks. Lambda City was where he grew up, after all. But since being released from prison, he felt that Lambda City had changed. It wasn’t the city he remembered.
There were strange places like the Opulent Club and large corporations like the Wealthwave Group, even a Smith family Kholtwood branch office; besides these, various other conglomerate families were now based here, and the Red Wolves operated in the city as well. He was surprised to encounter an organ trafficker and now this alleged “Heretic Medic” studying the human body.
The Heretic Medic approached him slowly. Matthew again clenched his fists, still bloodstained from killing Noah. He warily eyed the Heretic Medic.
The Heretic Medic’s face showed disdain. “Do you want to fight me? Don’t think you’re so tough just because you beat those useless men. You’re just trash, and I can make you beg for mercy with just one hand.”
Matthew remained silent and looked at him coldly. He believed this man was insane, and he didn’t want to argue with a madman; it would only drive him further crazy. It was better to fight than talk nonsense. That way, they could determine who was stronger.
The Heretic Medic extended a finger and arrogantly declared, “I can defeat you with just one finger.”