Chapter Twenty-One: Healing

Fan Bei, emboldened, charged forward and unleashed the “Wolf’s Might Demon-Expelling Fist,” which he had only learned two days prior.

His mind was intensely focused, his eyes and heart fixed solely on that cluster of gray-white mist.

Suddenly, within the fog, he saw a white line!

Yes, this was the first realm of the fist technique: “Guide the fist with the heart, all evils are revealed.” Through concentrated mental intent and the cultivation of this special fist technique, one could sense the weaknesses of malignant entities.

His fist struck directly at that white line, and his mental energy instinctively surged through his fist; the line snapped abruptly!

The small cluster of mist dissolved into a plume of blue smoke, but this time, nothing of the evil spirit’s core remained.

Yet Fan Bei felt no regret. Ignoring the foul-smelling fluids and the dizziness that occasionally clouded his mind after expending his mental energy, he grabbed the golden tomato seed and hid it in his bosom—though in truth, he stored it within the “Father of Systems.”

“Mutated Tomato Seed: Upon use, directly increases mental strength by 1000 points. Through certain methods of preparation, can enhance the intelligence and physique of normal lifeforms. Not suitable for direct consumption; ordinary creatures cannot withstand it.”

He was elated!

Fan Bei’s mind was consumed by this thought until the plaintive whimpers of Da Bai snapped him back to reality.

“What’s wrong, Da Bai? Look at you—how careless you are. Don’t be afraid, I’ve already prepared bandages for you. Let’s stop the bleeding. That’s enough for today; we’ll return tomorrow…”

“Woof woof, I’m never coming back.”

“No need to worry. I saw the canned meat storage earlier—I’ll bring back dozens for you to recover, all prime California beef cans. You’ve never tasted them before.”

“Then I want twenty!”

“Alright, alright, you did great today. Eat as much as you want.”

Fan Bei calmed Da Bai by force, skillfully bandaging him to stop the bleeding.

Were it not for the risk of being detected by the white wooden sculpture, he would have tried to heal Da Bai with the “Father of Systems.”

It ought to work, since it could “replenish energy,” so surely it could “restore vitality.”

Finally, Fan Bei hoisted Da Bai and retraced his steps. Passing by the meat can storage, he pulled open the door, revealing stacks of canned goods.

These compartments were sliding doors, left unlocked. Clearly, the tomato spirit hadn’t developed true intelligence, only brute force to smash through.

The moment Da Bai, slung over Fan Bei’s shoulder, saw the cans, he forgot his wounds and began barking excitedly.

Fan Bei took a box from inside, this time not using the “storage” function, but simply carrying it in his left hand while Da Bai rested in his right. He left the cold storage.

Before leaving, he made sure to set down two items and lock the door again.

“Hmm, we’re lucky. There were three evil spirits inside, yet only one appeared. The other two didn’t seize the chance to attack us?”

Fan Bei muttered, though if two had emerged, he would only have lost some supplies, not his life.

Thus, man and dog returned safely to the agricultural sector.

After locking up, Fan Bei headed down the eastern corridor to his duty room.

Upon entering, he set down the box and Da Bai, then opened all windows for ventilation. He placed the foul-smelling Da Bai on a patch of floor outside the dog’s nest.

Da Bai lay there, unmoving, watching his companions in the nest with dejection.

Fan Bei had only provided basic first aid before; now he fetched the medicine kit from the equipment room to clean Da Bai’s wounds thoroughly.

He couldn’t use alcohol, which would harm the new tissue. Instead, he washed the wound with distilled water to remove dust and debris, then stopped the bleeding.

He opened two bottles of distilled water, cleaning Da Bai’s wounds on his hind leg and rump, tweezing out any foreign matter embedded in the skin.

While Fan Bei busied himself, Da Bai conversed with his companions.

“Serves you right! You went out without me, and now you’re just a stupid dog. I warned you—your master is up to no good. You’re wounded, he’s perfectly fine.”

“I’m willing to be hurt for my master,” Da Bai retorted stubbornly. “He promised me twenty California beef cans to help me recover.”

“Fool. So easily bought off. Fine, tell me—how many evil spirits have you slain? You have a system, unlike others; every kill must yield a reward. Where are those items?”

“They all go to my master, of course,” Da Bai declared.

“Are you stupid? I told you before, using them yourself lets you level up faster! You’re only a Level 2 dog—if you were Level 5, you’d never have been wounded!” The wooden white dog snapped.

“But I don’t know how to use them—the system never told me how,” Da Bai said, confused.

“That’s why I asked you to give them to me. I can use them, transfer power to you, even heal your wounds directly. No problem.”

“Can you really?” Da Bai, feeling the sting of iodine on his wounds, grew tempted, but then refused. “Maybe next time. I’ve already handed them over to my master; I can’t take them back. Just heal me first, then I’ll go fight more for you, and maybe my master will let me keep some.”

“But you worked so hard for them. Why let him control everything?”

“I’m his dog. Dogs catch rabbits for their masters, don’t they?” Da Bai was puzzled, unable to grasp his companion’s logic. He counseled, “You’re a dog too. Only by being a good dog will you win your master’s favor.”

“Forget your ‘good dog’ qualities! To hell with your master’s favor! I, Tian Bai, would rather die, remain trapped in this wooden dog, lose my soul, than accept any other as master!” The wooden white dog finally lost his temper.

“Well, if you want to be a stray, just say so. No need to get angry. You’re scaring me—my master never gets mad at me,” Da Bai shrank back.

“A stray? Fine, I’ll heal you, and make your useless master stay out of the way. Healing you like this will take seven or eight days—if you were Level 5, perhaps a single night would suffice, but not now.” The wooden dog relented, lured by the prospect of profit.

Da Bai barked twice at Fan Bei, who was treating his wounds.

“Oh, you don’t want me to treat you? That’s fine—I’d like to see how powerful your companion is,” Fan Bei said, smiling.

He was glad not to waste his energy or time.

Da Bai pointed at the wooden sculpture in the dog’s nest with his uninjured paw and barked again.

“I understand,” Fan Bei said, placing the wooden puppy’s head directly against Da Bai’s wounded rump.

“How do you communicate with him!” The wooden dog complained. “I meant for him to bring me close to your wound, not touch it directly.”

“No help for it—my master is human. He can’t understand dog-speak. Besides, it feels good this way—a cool sensation is rising up, very comfortable, not so painful now,” Da Bai said smugly.

“I’ll endure.”

A green light emanated from the wooden dog, covering Da Bai’s wounds.

Fan Bei watched in amazement as minuscule dust and debris surfaced from the wounds and were expelled entirely.

Then the new tissue began to grow rapidly, the surrounding skin covering it perfectly, unlike ordinary healing, which always leaves scars.

“Do you think I’ll become a bald dog? I’ve seen videos of hairless dogs—strays wandering outside.”

“Why worry about that?”

“If I lose my fur, I’ll look bad, and my master won’t like me as much. I don’t want to be a stray, sick and neglected. Dogs in danger, people in danger.”

“I’ll only say this: binding a good system to a dog is a waste of resources.”