Chapter 139

139

Lu Yan couldn't remember when he’d finally drifted off. He’d been in a hazy, half-awake state when he was taken for a bath.

When his eyes opened again, night had fallen.

It was hard to describe the sensation—a deep, full-body ache, sore and swollen. The slightest touch sent a jolt like live wire through his nerves.

The fingers he’d left exposed above the covers were dotted with faint bite marks, like the territorial claim of some oversized hound.

The system’s voice drawled in his mind. [Heard you like watching puppy-dragon tears. Last night… or rather, yesterday afternoon and night. Did he cry?]

Lu Yan: “......”

He had no desire to answer that.

Tang Xun’an’s smile was barely contained, the tip of his tail sweeping lightly across Lu Yan’s waist, drawing out a fine tremor.

“Yan Yan.”

Lu Yan blinked, his voice raspy. “Move your tail.”

Obediently, Tang Xun’an withdrew it.

Once dressed, Lu Yan called Xiao Jia directly. “Is there a functional operating room nearby?”

Taking Tang Xun’an to some back-alley clinic could probably work, but a proper medical facility was far preferable. Besides, if the pollution source excision procedure could be standardized, Lu Yan didn’t mind sharing his experience.

Researcher Jia was taken aback. “There is, but… what do you need it for?”

Lu Yan’s gaze settled on Tang Xun’an’s face. “I want to perform surgery on Tang Xun’an.”

Tang Xun’an’s expression instantly tightened.

The system let out a cold snort. [He’s worried you’re going to neuter him. Typical man.]

To be honest, when Tang Xun’an had held him so desperately tight, practically molding Lu Yan’s stomach to his own shape, the thought had crossed his mind.

But given he’d enjoyed himself too, Lu Yan decided to let the minor transgression slide.

“Ah… what kind of surgery?” Xiao Jia’s voice was thick with hesitation.

“Pollution source excision.”

Xiao Jia’s tone sharpened with alarm. “I need to consult Teacher Ji Wen first.”

Though Researcher Jia looked young, he had fifteen years of experience under his belt—a seasoned expert anywhere, let alone as Ji Wen’s head disciple. His knowledge was extensive.

He knew exactly what pollution source excision meant.

The term originated from the theoretical research of Qiao Yu, the first director of the First Research Institute. An early hypothesis stated that Awakeners were a transitional form of evolution.

Therefore, like pollutants, Awakeners also harbored pollution sources within their bodies. Partial excision of this source could effectively reduce the progression rate.

The theory’s sole problem was the extreme difficulty in identifying what, precisely, constituted an Awakener’s internal pollution source. Even those contaminated by the same source manifested differently. And even if identified, pinpointing the exact pathological locus was nearly impossible.

Haphazard excision of an Awakener’s pollution source carried a high risk of talent loss… or death.

Ji Wen, notified, hurried from his laboratory.

The two men sat facing each other in a conference room. Researchers Jia, Yi, and Bing observed from the side.

“Mr. Lu.” Ji Wen steepled his hands, expression grave. “As someone dedicated to the study of Pollution Disease and pollution sources, I cannot recommend any Awakener undergo this procedure. I myself would not perform it. Science requires exploration, not blind groping in the dark. This surgery, like talent transplantation, is currently explicitly prohibited.”

“Moreover, you have no prior clinical trial record. The risks… are far too great.”

Lu Yan considered for a moment. “I do. On Changjia Island, I operated on Ning Huai. It was successful.”

The system couldn’t resist adding, [Father and son, both doing well.]

Ji Wen was stunned. With his [True Knowledge] talent, he could sense Lu Yan spoke the truth.

His stance wavered slightly. “But the Tyrant’s current condition is quite stable…”

“Progression rate ninety-three. Only seven points from one hundred.” Lu Yan met Ji Wen’s eyes, his narration calm. “Seven points. A single intense battle could consume them. I can’t be by his side every moment. I don’t want to receive news of his death while I’m still on a mission. Do you understand?”

Ji Wen’s expression shifted. “But this concerns the Tyrant’s safety. I must ask, where did you learn this procedure?”

“Luochuan Botanical Garden. The dream invasion.” Lu Yan’s reply was succinct. “Tang Xun’an’s mission report should mention it. In his dream, I returned to the past. I studied under Qiao Yu for three months.”

Ji Wen studied him deeply. “Alright. But this is a grave matter. I must report it to headquarters.”

Lu Yan’s silver eyes lifted slightly. “Director Ji. I didn’t have to disclose this. Going public will inevitably bring me risks and complications. And Tang Xun’an would not refuse me. Yet I’ve told you because I know high-progression Awakeners aren’t limited to Tang Xun’an.”

As he spoke, light seemed to swirl within his mercury-like irises, the blood-red pupils appearing unnaturally vivid.

“I hope you understand my sincere intention.”

With that, he turned and left.

After the door closed, Ji Wen realized he’d been holding his breath.

Researcher Xiao Bing, clutching a file, hesitated for a long moment but didn’t follow.

He whispered, “Comrade Lu Yan was a bit… intimidating just now.”

It wasn’t his tone—which hadn’t been poor—but a natural, pervasive aura belonging to a superior, a predator. An aura that compelled subconscious obedience.

Ji Wen touched the monitor on his wrist. “Xiao Bing, what was Mr. Lu’s last recorded spiritual power threshold?”

“Ah, three weeks ago. It was 8,100.”

Ji Wen fell into thought. “I suspect it’s risen since.”

The growth of the spiritual power threshold was also tied to pollution sources. The more frequent and prolonged the exposure, the faster it climbed.

‘Threshold’ implied a limit. Even exposure to pollution sources had a ceiling.

For someone like Lu Yan now, encountering a parasitic fish with a pollution value of 500 from the early days might not raise his threshold by a single point.

Xiao Bing couldn’t help but sigh. “Mr. Lu… he really endures too much. Since becoming an Awakener, he’s had almost no rest, thrown into one mission after another… As an E-Class Awakener, he faced the A-Class pollution incident, the Wall of Resentment. Surviving that… it’s nothing short of a miracle.”

Ji Wen’s gaze grew distant. “You’re right. Since it’s a miracle… perhaps we can try to believe in it once. I know headquarters would never agree. They don’t dare gamble. No one can shoulder that responsibility. If something goes wrong, you become a sinner against all humanity. And many would argue the Tyrant’s condition isn’t critical, that it’s unnecessary… But as Diting said, a progression rate of ninety-three is the greatest danger.”

His tone took on a grim, fatalistic resolve. “In that case, this responsibility… I’ll bear it myself.”

Xiao Bing tensed. “Teacher, let me do it!”

Ji Wen stood, casually giving the young man’s rabbit tail a pinch. “Heh. You’re not qualified yet.”

*

Lu Yan had expected a long, bureaucratic process before any surgery notification.

He didn’t expect Researcher Jia to secretly summon him and Tang Xun’an the very next night at eight.

Xiao Jia was nervous, acting like a thief. “Be careful. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Lu Yan entered the second-floor operating room.

Ji Wen stood there in a suit, uncharacteristically solemn.

He looked at the newcomers. “First, we need to sign a liability waiver…”

Lu Yan’s brow arched. “Fine.”

He had confidence in himself and didn’t believe the surgery would fail. More importantly, he wouldn’t gamble with Tang Xun’an.

Ji Wen glanced at Xiao Bing, who produced the agreement and handed it over.

Lu Yan scanned it, surprised to find the waiver was primarily to absolve him of liability.

The gist was that Lu Yan was being coerced by the Third Research Institute to perform the surgery. Any mishap would not be his responsibility.

Lu Yan’s pen paused for a second before he signed his name.

Ji Wen remarked offhandedly, “Speaking of which, Yamata no Orochi’s tenth talent would be quite practical here… Pity no Awakener has manifested it…”

Tang Xun’an lay on the operating table, like a fish awaiting the knife.

Lu Yan used the pommel of Hellfire to tilt his chin up, a thread of teasing in his voice. “Scared?”

Tang Xun’an grasped the back of Lu Yan’s hand, pressing a kiss to his fingertips. “Not with you here.”

The system seethed. [Gag! An old man acting cute is disgusting! I’m gonna hurl! Host, you won’t fall for this, right?!]

Lu Yan ignored it. He leaned down, letting his kiss land on Tang Xun’an’s lips.

Ji Wen pulled out his phone, making a show of stepping into the corridor to take a call, granting the couple some privacy.

Researcher Jia muttered a soft “Holy shit,” covering Xiao Bing’s eyes.

This sort of scene was still too stimulating for someone in his twenties.

Though others observed and assisted with instruments, for Lu Yan, this was his surgery alone.

He donned his mask and gloves. The moment the scalpel settled in his grip, he shifted into a state of pure focus.

In his vision, different colored zones mapped themselves across Tang Xun’an’s body.

Hellfire traced a line across Tang Xun’an’s abdomen—a cut as precise as a laser guide.

His movements were precise and confident, swift but never rushed.

Golden blood welled up, sizzling against the scalpel with a faint corrosive hiss. Direct contact with that fluid would have seared his skin red.

[Normal humans have 12 pairs of ribs. Tang Xian’an has 18. He weighs several hundred kilograms—he needs a robust skeletal structure to support that muscle mass. Without it, he’d collapse under his own weight.]

[His ribs can be damaged in combat, but they heal automatically. The Dragon Bone talent isn’t just about transformation; it’s a top-tier combat system for a reason.]

Unlike ordinary bone, Tang Xian’an’s ribs held a faint golden sheen. Without Hellfire, and without Tang Xian’an consciously suppressing his own regenerative abilities, cutting through them would have been impossible.

[You need to remove these six pairs. Don’t worry… I might not like him much, but you do…]

……

……

Ji Wen stood outside the operating room door, pacing with the nervous energy of a man waiting for his wife to give birth. If he’d ever had a wife.

Surgical Assistant Bing had already pushed through the door twice—once for painkillers, once for more hemostatic gauze.

Four hours had passed. The floor near Ji Wen’s feet was littered with cigarette butts.

At 1 a.m., the door finally swung open.

Ji Wen rushed forward. “Doctor Lu. Is Tang Xian’an alright?”

Lu Yan removed his mask, his expression unreadable. “The surgery was successful. Tang Xian’an’s Corruption Degree has been reduced to 67.4. His spiritual power threshold has dropped, but remains at twelve thousand seven hundred. Vital signs are stable.”

He said it with the casual tone of someone reporting on a routine procedure.

Behind him, Assistant Bing’s tears spilled over, streaming down his cheeks. “Teacher! We did it! The method works!”

Lu Yan might sound detached, but the researchers understood the staggering significance of what had just happened. If this news got out, it would send shockwaves through Awakened communities and research institutes across the globe.

For decades, the great Research Institutes had hunted for a way to reduce pollution values. Their greatest achievements were the categorized special-effect drugs. Once an Awakened’s Corruption Degree passed 90, the countdown to death was all but guaranteed.

“If only…” Bing’s eyes were rimmed red. “If only we’d had this sooner. Maybe… maybe the ones before… wouldn’t have needed mercy kills.”

Ji Wen felt his glasses fog. He took them off, wiped the lenses clean, and when he put them back on, his gaze was sharp, firm, and brimming with a hard-won hope. “It’s not too late. Not now.”