Ji-Hoon had been back for several hours.
His makeshift fire crackled softly.
A funnel of twisted leaves filtered the ashes, diffusing a warm, fragrant vapor throughout the small shelter of foliage he had built.
He wasn't hungry yet, but he was feeding himself in another way.
His mind.
He had returned to the Library of the Soul.
---
Not in a trance.
Not in a dream.
But awake, connected.
He had learned how to access it simply by slowing his breathing, syncing it to the pulse of his Dantian.
He called this process: inner syntony.
And now, the shelves lit up as he approached.
But he wasn't interested in the gleaming tomes on high.
He sought the lower shelves—
The dusty ones. The forgotten. The worn.
Those with no titles on their covers.
Those that trembled as he drew near.
---
He took the first.
"Collection of Itinerant Remedies — Volume 2 (damaged fragment)"
Handwritten. Torn pages. But legible.
He absorbed it.
Techniques for intestinal purging without noble ingredients.
How to use vegetable waste to create a fever-extracting paste.
How to trap an infected wound with salt and vinegar to save a limb—without using Ki.
It was… dirty. Primitive. Brutal.
But real.
He smiled.
---
Second book: "The Path of the Invisible Needle: An Introduction to Non-Cultivated Acupuncture"
This time, he didn't absorb it.
He read. Slowly. Page by page.
He mentally copied every diagram.
Visualized each pressure point.
Tested the right-hand movements in the air.
Every rotation. Every angle. Every depth of insertion.
Liver meridian: oblique entry from the Taichong point.
Induces sleep if inserted at 3 cun depth.
He repeated.
Again and again.
Until his hand extended naturally at the correct angle—even in the dark.
He didn't want to know.
He wanted to become the knowledge.
---
Then he picked a third book.
"Soft Poisons: A Behavioral Study"
This one… drew him more than the others.
Soft poisons didn't kill.
They altered perception, weakened stamina, distorted memory.
They could be administered over long periods, in micro-doses, without the victim ever knowing.
Ji-Hoon took notes:
Black chrysanthemum infusion + pine mist: impairs short-term memory
Red velvet root: reduces Ki circulation in the arms
Black sorrel sugar: causes mild euphoria and psychological dependence
Poisons that make you happy.
Poisons that inspire trust.
He closed the book. Slowly.
And thought:
"If I can't be stronger… I can be indispensable.
If I can't hit harder… I can choose when the enemy falls."
---
Hours passed.
He had already absorbed the equivalent of ten years of empirical experience.
But he felt no fatigue. No overload.
The Library of the Soul filtered it all.
It sorted, labeled, and transformed every piece of knowledge into a usable tool.
And in a corner of his mental space, his first theory was beginning to form:
"The Wall-less Heart"
A universal healing protocol based on breath, tongue analysis, pulse quality, and extremity temperature—capable of producing primary diagnoses without Ki.
It was just an embryo.
But he was creating.
---
Ji-Hoon returned to himself.
The fire had died.
Night was falling again.
He reached for his makeshift bag, grabbed a root, and sliced it into thin strips.
He added a pinch of gray powder.
A subtle mixture. Harmless at first glance.
"Make me useful.
Make me harmless.
And I'll become the poison in your blood."
---
To be continued...