Capítulo 251: The Mad Daoientist?! by lost star
Science of Dao is.....well...riddled with madness let's shall say
Words: 34k+
Link: -https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/24039
Chapter 1 - Intro
Smallfish had started small, as its namesake suggested. A few shacks, a small port, and boats. Its only claim to fame was the tiny fish that the fishermen managed to pull out of the ocean. These were never filling alone, but always tasty, and relatively easy to bring up in large numbers. Hence, the village of Smallfish started.
It didn't resemble its name that much anymore. Smallfish was a large port now. Grown to its size due to becoming a popular secondary stop for wandering cultivators. Set just outside the Jade Turtle Empire, it was possible for one to charter a ship back and forth to more untamed lands with relatively little hassle. More importantly to those selfsame cultivators, it was a place outside the reach of the elder monsters that made up the higher ranks who regulated behavior. Oh, they would and could reach out when motivated, but most were more concerned with more local matters. This meant that all matters of things could be found in the port to cater to young masters looking for 'new things,' much to the lamentation of the old men who would tell the story of the fish to anyone who'd listen.
To most people, that was the sum total of information they'd care about. Cultivator business was something mortals tried to keep out of. Nothing good ever came about working with it. Your average initiate from a larger sect could and would slice a man's head clean off his shoulders with a flick of his wrist, and then sip tea as the blood cooled on the floor before complaining about the mess. It was a bloody business interacting with them, and almost every prominent restaurant and inn had special areas just for cultivators.
This also included an excessive number of empty warehouses. You never knew when one would need space of some sort and having empty buildings ready had saved more than life when a cultivator wanted some sort of privacy. When the season was right, about a quarter of the buildings were being rebuilt thanks to some sort of very important young master business. (Incidentally, the standard construction contained reinforced roofs, and the landowners frequently changed hands as one or another died or retired due to 'mysterious circumstances.')
Off season the large buildings were mostly deserted, and this made it perfect for one aspiring half-native cultivator. He'd managed to secure one of the almost-ruined ones for free and filled it was strange contraptions and metal devices. Winding coils brushed up against sheets of cheap paper and glass, and pointed objects wiggled and sparked here dangerously. It gave the place an air of madness and out of place chaos. Even the crudest cultivator talismans had a sense of elegance and appearance. This was a slapdash work of jagged rusted metal edges and uninsulated wires.
Currently the architect of all of this was having a bad time. "You misbegotten flee-ridden cur!" He screamed out from his place strapped down on the chair. "You faithless bastard son of a monkey! Worthless wretch of a specimen!"
"I don't even know what half of those words mean, but I don't think they're nice." A huge and muscled man responded slowly as he held up a large and scary looking needle. "This one next?" He waited a moment before moving forward and pressing it into the bound man's arm.
Blood welled up, and the man in the chair continued to curse. The muscled man ignored it as he very carefully pulled out more needles from the nearby storage. Each one was attached to a long wire and placed into the strapped man's flesh. It was a horrible torturous event.
"Motherfucking bitch." The man howled out. "Why did I think this was a good idea?!"
"You tell me." The other man said as he paused in his torture. "Do you want me to pull them out?"
"Don't you dare you neanderthal." The man in the chair grit out as he brought himself under control. "Move the paper one area four so I can see it." He tried to point out even though the straps pining him down prevented it.
"Fairly sure that one wasn't nice either." The heavily muscled man responded but slowly did as asked, shifting a device that wrote out some strange squiggles on paper.
The man in the chair rolled his eyes. "I have over a dozen needles piercing through my epidermis and digging into my muscles without painkiller. There will be unpleasant language involved Igor."
"Not my name." The man replied sullenly and crossed his arms.
"Considering your pay and benefits, your name is whatever I tell you when you're on the clock." Was the muttered and absentminded reply as the pinned man began to look over what his devices were writing. "Hmm, upper quadrant meridian has interesting activity. I might have to do the skull sensor after all."
"Thats the err…" 'Igor' held up another, more menacing looking needle gingerly.
"Yes, yes. Unstrap my right arm and hand me it. I don't trust your clumsy hands for anything related to my cranium." The man in the chair wiggled his hand and then hissed as the limb was released.
There were three spikes driven through his arms, but he didn't hesitate at all with his movements. More blood dripped down onto the ground with little patters as he moved, but the man carefully took the spike from his assistant and then less carefully drove it into his forehead. Blood flowed down his face and into his bare chest like a red river.
He had no eyes for his injuries. His only focus was the paper and what was being written. Slowly his grin started to expand. "Yes, that's it."
Wisely Igor started to step away.
"Hahah, my hypothesis is correct!" The man grinned wider. "It's not only possible to detect the flow of energy, but the optimal flow varies between energy frequencies and body focus! Even the change in mentality is enough to alter it! Look Igor!"
"You know I can't read that boss." The heavily muscled man took another step away with a wary look on his face.
"It doesn't matter! Hahahah! Yes, yes. With this I can achieve greatness! My name will surpass those…" The man paused in his budding rant as he noticed something in the data. "Blast it. No, this isn't right." He ripped out several needles. "Damnit, no." With a clatter of metal on metal he threw the measuring sensors away. "Something's off."
Igor shuffled uneasily, then at a gesture from his employer began to help pull out the needles. He wasn't really a squeamish sort, but the blood and how deep they'd been still made him wince. Had it been anyone else, Igor would have recommended that they visit a doctor, but his boss just wiped away the blood and started to grab the papers around him without a care. He didn't seem to like what he was seeing.
"Respectable science forces me to state my original hypothesis was incorrect. Irritating. The data is useful but contains enough discrepancies that I am forced to discard my current thoughts on this whole cultivation nonsense." The man sighed. "Hmmm. I wonder where I went wrong? I suppose the only other step is to see about getting more specimens."
Igor looked rather unenthusiastic about that. "Don't we have the rest of the gang?"
The man rolled his eyes. "A dozen street orphans enhanced with trivial cultivation techniques are not a gang. Also they wouldn't work. I've practically made them all. You're the only one with something I haven't touched, and that's that ghastly muscle refining blockhead technique that you refuse to stop using."
Igor flexed an arm the size of a tree trunk, showing off a massive muscle. "I like it." Then he dropped his arm and frowned. "Also, it's the Sutra of the Heavenly Golden Bull." He sounded as if he didn't expect the other man to acknowledge the statement.
And he didn't. "No, no. I need something more." With a sigh and a toss of one of the needles the no longer pinned man stopped looking over things and rubbed at his eyes. "I need to rest first. Clean up Igor, and then you're off for the day."
"Yes Professor Da-" Igor stumbled as he tried to pronounce the name.
The professor waved him off. "Don't bother. Professor Da is fine." The man sighed again. "It's not as if my previous name was relevant after all. I am making a new one here." With a grumble he strode off.
Behind him his assistant looked at the bloody chair, tools, and other contraptions and sighed himself.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder