‘This is chaos, this is human life.’

Henry Webb sat alone on his bed, the fragmented moonlight outside the window casting a faint pale hue on the side of his face.

He hadn’t slept well all night, tossing and turning in bed, the image of that mummified child constantly surfacing in his mind.

It wasn’t until dawn that he got up again and ate the money bug meat he had bought from the pharmacy.

This stuff was more filling than ordinary food and accumulated the boundary-breaking pearl in his chest much faster.

Henry Webb tried hard to shake off the images in his mind. Just thinking about the special ability in his chest since he transmigrated made him feel a bit more at ease.

But this money bug meat, though it accumulated energy for the boundary-breaking pearl quickly, tasted terrible.

Henry Webb put a small piece in his mouth; chewing it was like gnawing on dry wood. Only by mixing it with a big mouthful of water could he swallow a small piece.

On the other side.

Nanshan Town, at George Scott’s earthen house.

The sun had not yet risen, but several strong men in gray short coats had already arrived at the door of the earthen house.

“This is the place?”

“Yes.”

They spoke in low voices.

Then one of them kicked the door open, and a man quickly went inside for a short while. Soon, he came back out.

“They’re all dead.”

“This is the last place that woman stayed. Those black bugs are the traces. Search the area; the black-letter bugs are still very active. She can’t have gone far,” the leading man said in a deep voice.

“According to the traces, she must have stayed here for a while, temporarily using this earthen house as shelter before leaving.”

“We must find her. Also, leave one person behind to silence anyone who might be involved or who has seen the black-letter bugs.”

“Understood!”

Before long, the entire earthen house was engulfed in roaring flames. Only after confirming that everything inside was destroyed did the men quietly turn and leave.

……

……

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, another month had passed.

Henry Webb practiced his moves diligently every day and also began his first skin-grinding training.

Swish, swish, swish.

In the courtyard of the Hui Shan Fist school, in front of a large wooden basin, Henry Webb bared his arms and repeatedly struck the sand and soil inside the basin with his fists.

The hard, dry sand was the first step in skin-grinding practice.

Henry Webb’s movements were neither fast nor slow. Each time, he drove his fists deep into the sand, making sure every part of his fists was thoroughly abraded.

After half an hour of this, he pulled out his fists and soaked them in a medicinal bath nearby for fifty breaths.

There was charcoal under the medicinal bath to keep it warm.

Like him, several other men were also practicing skin-grinding nearby.

On the outskirts, others stood with arms crossed, waiting for their turn.

Each spot for skin-grinding training was extremely valuable.

Chapter 8: Trial – Part 2

Henry Webb practiced three rounds in one go. Only when his hands were flushed red and could bear no more did he sigh and let the next person take over.

“How is it?” Third Senior Brother Samuel Hayes was eating dried meat on the side—apparently dried rat—biting a thin rat leg, which looked rather disgusting.

“Not bad,” Henry Webb nodded.

“This skin-grinding is all about willpower. It’s pretty painful, but I might worry about others not being able to stick with it. With you, that’s not a problem,” Samuel Hayes said with a smile.

As he spoke, he leaned in a bit, his smile fading.

“William Brooks is dead. He was found a few days ago, dead in his own yard.”

He lowered his voice, hinting at something.

In this era, death was all too common. No one cared if a small-time thug died.

But this William Brooks was different.

Samuel Hayes knew, and Henry Webb knew.

“Oh,” Henry Webb replied woodenly.

“His two lackeys died with him,” Samuel Hayes patted Henry Webb on the shoulder, his expression a bit complicated.

He had gained a new understanding of this junior brother Webb’s ruthlessness.

He had just told him about William Brooks’s injury not long ago, and now all three were dead. What a coincidence.

If he said Henry Webb wasn’t involved, he wouldn’t believe it for a second.

Thinking back, this junior brother Webb’s speed and ruthlessness sent a chill down his spine.

Samuel Hayes had seen all kinds of young men in the Hui Shan Fist school, but this was the first time he’d seen someone with Henry Webb’s combination of ferocity and action.

Fortunately, his own family had people with similar methods, so Samuel Hayes didn’t think much of it.

“This world…” he sighed.

Henry Webb was silent. He knew Samuel Hayes had guessed, but with no evidence, no one could do anything to him.

“Enough about that. Pork prices in the city have gone up again lately. As martial artists, we can’t go without meat. Although we can eat other kinds of meat besides pork, eating them—like this dried rat—just doesn’t feel right.”

Samuel Hayes quickly returned to normal, talking about other things.

Henry Webb just listened, occasionally responding to show he was paying attention.

Soon, the two shifted their focus elsewhere.

But before they could say much, Senior Brother David Scott entered the courtyard with a wooden face, leading several female disciples of Hui Shan Fist.

“Master.”

These female disciples were all broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, except for one, who was somewhat attractive, with a slender figure, a full chest, and delicate skin.