After Jin Bing finished speaking, his face turned ashen as he slowly stood up and walked out of the training hall.
He stood at the doorway with Chen Lihua, seemingly waiting for something.
Ren Qing's expression turned peculiar. Having witnessed those veteran actors in his previous life, he couldn't help but feel Jin Bing's entire demeanor seemed unnatural.
Using his peripheral vision, he noticed everyone remained seated on their meditation cushions without moving, though their sweat-covered faces revealed inner turmoil.
Negative emotions continued fermenting.
After a long while, a dark-skinned man finally broke down.
Muttering to himself, he said: "I can't die... my family is waiting for me back home..."
The dark-skinned man staggered backward several steps. But when he reached the others, he suddenly pulled a wooden spike from his robe.
He viciously stabbed it into another person's back. Blood soaked through the victim's clothes.
As if waking from a dream, the dark-skinned man stared in horror at his bloodied hands, then collapsed weakly to the floor.
The martial arts disciples in the corner couldn't help but laugh mockingly.
The injured man numbly touched his back. Seeing the wound hadn't pierced any organs, he immediately pounced on the dark-skinned man. The brawl escalated.
Strangely, no one paid Ren Qing any attention.
His official runner's uniform carried considerable intimidation, and since the paying disciples were all commoners, they instinctively feared him.
But as time passed, someone inevitably took the risk.
Hong Biao had spent some time with a gang called the Blue Shrimp Society. Though he'd never made a name for himself, he'd gained plenty of street smarts.
To him, the newly arrived Ren Qing seemed unfathomable.
If he could kill this man, he'd surely be the last one standing and most likely to survive until the Yamen intervened.
Hong Biao ruthlessly punched toward the back of Ren Qing's neck.
"Officer, don't blame me for being cruel. Just die quietly."
Ren Qing still didn't understand what was happening in this martial arts school, so he'd planned to stay out of it for now. But it seemed unavoidable.
He drew the Great Miao Blade.
A simple slash gave the illusion of being impossible to evade.
To onlookers, it appeared as if Hong Biao had willingly walked into Ren Qing's wooden blade.
How was this possible?!
Hong Biao crossed his arms to protect his head.
Ren Qing twisted his wrist, instantly changing the blade's trajectory to stab Hong Biao's foot instead.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Hong Biao screamed and instinctively tried pulling the wooden blade from his foot.
Ren Qing snorted coldly. His right hand chopped Hong Biao's neck like a blade, knocking him unconscious mid-scream before tossing him toward the doorway.
Chen Lihua's voice trembled with excitement: "That's enough."
Silence fell over the room.
Everyone stopped fighting and returned to their meditation cushions without another word, enduring their bloody wounds through sheer willpower.
Hong Biao was dragged away outside. The two martial arts disciples also left the room.
The door was locked with an iron chain.
Everyone remained wary of each other, especially the severely injured. Ren Qing found himself subtly isolated.
Just as he considered speaking up, a skinny figure crept closer and whispered: "Big brother, I'm a Cleaner from Morning Sun Street. My name is Jiang Jie."
Jiang Jie swallowed hard and asked: "When you came to the martial arts school, did any Yamen runners know your whereabouts?"
Ren Qing shook his head: "Ah, no one knew. But if I'm missing for over five days, someone should come looking."
Jiang Jie's eyes filled with terror as he muttered incoherently: "Everyone here will be dead within two days... no way we'll last until the Yamen..."
Ren Qing grabbed Jiang Jie's arm: "Tell me what's happening?"
Perhaps desperate to confide in someone, Jiang Jie stammered out an explanation.
After hearing it, Ren Qing's confusion didn't lessen, it deepened.
All the paying disciples had arrived at the martial arts school within the past two days. After entering, they'd been locked inside without explanation.
Chen Lihua would drag away three or four people every day, always during mealtimes. The outcome went without saying.
Occasionally, they could hear martial arts disciples outside discussing how delicious human flesh was, their tones dripping with undisguised greed.
Of course, some had tried to escape. But the martial arts school had only one passageway. Without access to water or food for extended periods, how could they possibly defeat over a dozen trained fighters?
Since death seemed inevitable either way, staying put in the room might at least allow them to hold out until rescue came.
Ren Qing maintained his composure while pondering the situation. To him, the martial arts disciples weren't even cultivators, they posed no real threat.
The most pressing matter was how to safely obtain the Divine Foot Technique while ensuring he could extricate himself afterward.
Though he hadn't concealed his official runner's uniform, this actually made him easier to overlook, after all, the Yamen had over a thousand runners.
Even if he exposed his supernatural abilities, the worst outcome would be joining the Restraint Officers. With Song Zongwu able to vouch for the legitimacy of his techniques, the consequences would be manageable.
After about two or three hours, Jin Bing and the others finally returned to the training hall.
They carried a foul odor about them, and the muscles in their legs had visibly swollen to varying degrees.
Jin Bing in particular; no matter how much he pretended to be distressed, couldn't hide that his legs showed the most pronounced mutations.
Sighing heavily, Jin Bing took out bandages to dress the wounded and stop their bleeding, then specially distributed dry rations to stave off hunger.
This made the others feel almost grateful toward him.
Ren Qing accepted the rations without showing any reaction, but he had no intention of eating them. Who knew what tricks might be hidden within?
The more he observed Jin Bing, the more unnatural the man seemed. Ren Qing simply closed his eyes to rest, waiting for events to unfold further.
Surprisingly, Jin Bing actually began teaching the Eight Extremities Leg Technique.
Apart from Ren Qing, who listened with keen interest, the others paid no attention; recovering their strength while they could was far more important.
When night fell, numerous footsteps sounded outside. It seemed another gathering was taking place.
Ren Qing noticed everyone around him had succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep.
He stood up and asked: "Senior Brother Jin, I'd like to die with clarity. Before my end, let me see the manual recording the Eight Extremities Leg Technique."
"..."
Jin Bing's expression turned peculiar. After hesitating for several breaths, he pulled out a thin booklet and handed it over.
Ren Qing flipped through a few pages casually before setting it aside and closing his eyes again.
He hadn't expected the manual to contain such revealing information.
[Eight Extremities Leg Technique]
[Created by Chen Yongxing. Divided into primary and secondary sections. The secondary section contains thirty-six stances. The primary section requires catalyst ingredients to begin cultivation.]
[Catalyst: Chen Yongxing uses flesh from his own legs as the catalyst. After consumption, mutations allow the user to exert strength far beyond ordinary humans.]
Now Ren Qing understood the full picture. No wonder the Divine Foot Technique, which should have no connection to cannibalism, had created such a depraved environment in this martial arts school.
Jin Bing's eyes reddened. To him, Ren Qing's actions were nothing short of provocation.
Though he tried desperately to maintain his gentle facade, his facial features still twisted grotesquely. Murderous intent seethed just beneath the surface.
His humanity faded as a bestial nature began awakening.