The entire sequence, from the first to the last shot, was quicker than the span of a falling leaf. Li Wei stands, a figure of devastating focus and power. His breakthrough to the 8th level has transformed Bone Shot into something far more potent and terrifying. The tranquil morning air, once still and calm, now vibrates with the echoes of his swift and deadly attack.
As the silence returns, Li Wei emerges from hiding. He approaches the body, his eyes scanning for any sign of life. But the man lies still, his death instantaneous and undeniable.
As Li Wei surveys the aftermath of his rapid assault, the scene before him speaks of the lethal efficiency of his technique. The man's body lies crumpled on the ground, the finality of death evident in its stillness.
Li Wei examines the impact of each shot, analysing the outcome of his assault.
The shots, aimed at the head and neck, have left their gruesome mark. The first projectile's impact on the skull is evident; a small cavity marks the entry point at the back of the head. From this wound, a mixture of bone fragments and brain matter has sprayed outward, marring the ground with a visceral pattern.
The subsequent shots to the neck are even more devastating. The second shot struck an artery, causing a massive haemorrhage. Blood from the wound has created a growing, dark pool on the ground, seeping into the earth. One shot, which hit the cervical spine, shattered the vertebrae, a clear sign of the force behind Li Wei's attack. The spinal cord severance is evident in the unnatural angle of the head, indicating instant paralysis and death.
The additional shots to the lower back have caused extensive damage to the lumbar region. The impacts are clustered close together, showing Li Wei's control over his technique even amidst the chaos of combat. Each shot resulted in deep, penetrating wounds, likely damaging the kidneys and lower spine. Blood from these wounds has created a pattern of spatter that speaks of the ferocity of the attack.
The overall scene is a display of precision and power. Blood spatter radiates out from the body, following the trajectories of the bone shots, some droplets even reaching nearby surfaces. The pattern of blood on the ground is irregular, with larger pools where the major injuries were inflicted and smaller droplets indicating the direction of each strike.
Li Wei stands amidst this, his expression unreadable. Realising what he has become capable of at the 8th level, the sheer potency of his attacks. The air around him is heavy with the metallic scent of blood.
A flicker of doubt crosses Li Wei's mind as he stands over the corpse. "Was it the right guy?" he wonders internally. "It can't be right. That was much too easy, almost the same as killing Shi Tou." A sense of unease creeps into his thoughts. "Fuck."
He crouches beside the body, examining it again. As he inspects the man's features, a creeping suspicion takes hold. Did he eliminate the correct target, or was this a case of mistaken identity?
Li Wei's internal conflict grows. The simplicity of the kill and the lack of struggle all seem too straightforward for someone who was supposed to be a formidable opponent. "Could I have been misinformed?" he questions himself, the uncertainty gnawing at him.
He stands up, looking around the area, half-expecting an ambush or a sign that this was a trap. But the forest remains still as if holding its breath, the only disturbance being the lifeless body at his feet.
Li Wei takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his mind racing through the possibilities. Doubts swirl, but he knows he must move quickly now. Whether or not this was the intended target, he has made a move that cannot be undone.
Li Wei approaches the cave with a measured stride, his mind clouded with uncertainty and alertness. The cave entrance, noticeably wider than those on the north slope, ushers him into an interior that speaks of a certain luxury rare in the sect. He steps inside, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dimmer light.
As Li Wei steps inside, he takes in the details. The walls are smoother, and the floor is less rugged. Unlike his own spartan dwelling, this cave has touches of personalisation and wealth. Tapestries hang from the walls, depicting scenes of mountains and rivers, and the furniture, though sparse, is well-crafted.
"Fuck, Senior Huo is going to kill me if I got this wrong," he thinks, his eyes scanning the interior for any sign of the real Xue Feng. The cave is silent, devoid of any other presence. A sinking feeling begins to settle in his stomach.
He rummages through the cave, his movements quick and focused. Drawers are opened, and containers are inspected. Then, his eyes land on a sect token – "Xue Feng" engraved in elegant script. A wave of realisation washes over him. "Shit, I guess it was him."
His attention shifts to a chest in the corner of the cave. Rummaging through. His hands move methodically, sifting through the contents. He uncovers a small pile of gold pieces, their metallic sheen catching the dim light. Next, he discovers sacks filled to the brim with herbs. Their fragrances mix in the air, some sharp, others earthy. He sets these aside, continuing his search.
A small, chipped porcelain cup sits forlornly against one corner, its once delicate artwork faded and obscured by cracks. Next to it, a pair of blunt scissors lay forgotten, their metal surfaces dulled and speckled with rust.
He uncovers a bundle of yellowed papers, edges frayed and corners bent, the contents written in a cramped, hurried script that makes them difficult to decipher. A simple wooden flute, worn from use with several notches along its length, rests quietly among these papers. Its purpose in the chest and items of apparent value remain a mystery.
A few strands of coarse thread and a needle with a bent eye lie scattered near a small, empty leather pouch, its drawstrings frayed. An old, tattered book with a broken binding and pages that crumble at the touch sits at the bottom, the text faded and barely legible.
Li Wei's hand lands on a paper talisman tucked amidst the other items. It's thin, slightly crinkled at the edges. He lifts it gently, examining the characters and symbols inscribed on its surface. Though faded in places, the ink forms patterns and signs unfamiliar to him, their meanings elusive. He turns the talisman over, its paper slightly coarse against his fingertips, looking for any clue about its purpose or origin. Not finding any, he places the gold into his robe and tosses the sacks of herbs into the centre of the room.
Li Wei steps out of the cave. He approaches the lifeless body he left outside. The morning air, still cool, brushes against his skin as he moves closer to where Xue Feng lies. The sun, now higher in the sky, casts a stark light on the scene, illuminating the stillness of the body.
Li Wei stands over the body of Xue Feng, his mind processing the situation with a pragmatic lens. The realisation dawns on him – he has the entire skeleton of a high-level Qi cultivator before him. "Definitely worth a lot," he thinks to himself. "This will give me a significant amount of essence."
Grasping the body by the shoulders, he drags it across the ground. The body's weight makes the task arduous.
Once back inside the cave, away from prying eyes, he lays the body down on the cave floor, a more controlled environment than the open.
He retrieves his dagger. "This is an entire skeleton of a high-level Qi cultivator," he reminds himself internally. "I need to make the most of this opportunity."
The blade plain but sharp and well-suited. He positions himself beside the corpse, his movements deliberate.
Li Wei examines the robe, noting the bloody holes from where his bone shots had penetrated. Li Wei's fingers delve into the bloodied robe pockets, exploring the fabric's inner folds. His touch encounters small, hard objects. He draws out several pills, each coated in a thick layer of blood. The red stains mar their smooth surfaces.
Methodically, he rubs each pill between his fingers, trying to clean off the blood. The crimson smears reluctantly give way, revealing a little of the true colour of the pills beneath. He examines them briefly, noting their intact form despite the grim coating.
Li Wei places the now somewhat cleaner pills into his robe's pocket. He recognises their worth, even in their less-than-pristine state, a necessary acquisition for his cultivation.
His hands reach for the hem of the blood-soaked robe, the fabric clinging to the dead man's form.
He grasps the cloth firmly, beginning the task of removing the robe. The body, devoid of life, offers no assistance, its limbs heavy and unyielding. Li Wei manoeuvres the fabric, pulling it over the shoulders, the dead weight of the arms causing resistance.
He adjusts his grip, lifting the limb cold and stiff in his hands one arm at a time. Soaked in blood, the robe sticks to the skin, making the task more arduous. With tugging and lifting, he frees the arms from the sleeves.
The torso, limp and heavy, requires a more forceful approach. Li Wei shifts his position, planting his feet for better leverage. He pulls the robe over the man's chest, the fabric dragging against the wounds.
Finally, the robe is pulled down over the waist and legs. Each movement causes the body to shift unnaturally, a grotesque manipulation of what was once a living being. The robe slides over the knees, past the shins, until it's free from the lifeless form.
The body, now stripped of its covering, lies exposed, a stark and nude testament to the violence that has occurred. Li Wei stands up, the bloodied robe in his hands, a physical symbol of the task completed.
He starts with the arms. Grasping the left arm of the corpse, he feels for the joint at the elbow, locating the natural division. With his free hand, he places the blade against the soft tissue on the opposite side of the joint. He presses down with his dagger, the blade slicing through skin and muscle easily. Blood, still fresh, seeps from the incision, staining the cave floor.
Twisting the arm at an unnatural angle, he hears the distinct pop of the joint dislocating. This eases his task, providing a clearer path for his blade. He cuts deeper, severing tendons and ligaments, the sound of tearing flesh punctuating the otherwise silent cave. The arm comes free, and he sets it aside, turning his attention to the right arm.
Repeating the process, Li Wei works with the same methodical precision. The right arm yields more easily, his technique refined by the experience of the first. He places the second limb alongside the first, creating a growing pile of dismembered parts.