Chapter 28: Rebirth of the Martial God

"Remember this: the innate flesh is the lowliest of all."

A massive Austrian Black and Tan Coonhound barked this command. "Martial arts are a curious thing. Some say they are easy to master, others say they are impossible. They are 'easy' because you can simply entrust everything to a machine. They are 'difficult' because to truly master them, you must transcend the innate and attain Great Freedom!"

This image flickered in his mind.

—A familiar argument, indeed...

The man pondered. In the past of "him"—of "Xiang Shan"—there must have been someone who said something similar.

Sure enough, a faint surge of bioelectricity pulsed within his brain. It seemed as if memories were being reawakened.

But what floated to the surface of his consciousness now was not Xiang Shan's memory.

This memory belonged to Will Granddog. It was a scene from his father’s teachings to him and his siblings.

The giant hound had never taught Will a single technique. Those had been implanted into Will’s prosthetic body alongside the martial algorithms.

They only sparred incessantly, reinforcing the application of bionic boxing in actual combat, syncing the biological brain, the martial algorithms, and the prosthetic body into one.

Convolutional calculation was already a mature concept. Prosthetics could optimize themselves based on long-term logs, and the biological brain had to form neural circuits that matched the martial algorithms. Meanwhile, the martial algorithms were constantly being updated with new strategy sets based on the feedback from the brain and the body.

This was the martial cultivation of a cyborg.

It was meaningless for a person to repeat a set of punches over and over. The "procedural memory" stored in the brain—what is commonly known as "muscle memory"—had a negligible impact on the body. Cyborgs did not need, nor could they achieve, physical enhancement through exercise. The "practice" of martial arts was entirely pointless.

Cyber-martial arts only had "application."

The path of a cyborg’s martial arts was exclusively combat.

This was not a pleasant memory. Reading it made Xiang Shan feel somewhat nauseated.

But there was no choice; Xiang Shan needed to absorb the memories of the hound-like martial artist.

He didn't remember much about this field. Even if he weren't an expert in neurobiology—and neuroscience itself could be subdivided into countless fields—he still wouldn't be able to grasp the state of this era.

How far had information technology advanced in this age? Had the principles of "emotion" been solved? Could code for "sentiment" be created?

He did not know.

But even in the era he remembered, forcibly accessing another person's memory storage device was an extremely dangerous endeavor. A person's thinking is, after all, influenced by "experience." In this sense, the personality traits we call "character" are likely nothing more than the result of the convolutional calculation of "experience."

Reading another's memory storage device would inevitably affect one's own consciousness to some degree. Such effects were often unpredictable.

If a person had enough life experience of high quality, and their own past was brilliant and glorious—far stronger than the memory being read—the impact might be minimal.

But if the opposite were true, it would be a disaster.

And Xiang Shan happened to be in a state of total amnesia.

This was not good.

Yet, Xiang Shan did not hesitate. He followed the methods in the memory, actively engaging in specific thoughts to activate designated regions of his brain to counteract the influence.

This was a scientific form of meditation designed by observing how the brain discharges when thinking of specific objects after electrodes are implanted in the biological brain. It shared the same origin as the seeds of *neigong*, but its effect was limited to "contemplation."

If the memory being faced was too vast, even with proficient meditative techniques, one could not avoid the catastrophe of having their personality overwritten.

But Xiang Shan had to absorb this memory. His knowledge of this strange era was simply too scarce.

He could trust Youji, but the boy was just an ordinary child. He did not know many of the deeper secrets.

Xiang Shan had to understand this bizarre era.

It was just that... the dog’s memories were truly repulsive.

At the age of ten, after "abandoning protection" according to his father's arrangement, this creature had been living in a "non-human" manner ever since.

—Why... when cybernetic prosthetics were developed so that humanity could escape the suffering of disease and conquer extreme environments... why was this technology used to create men wearing the skins of dogs?

That nameless rage flared up again.

Xiang Shan was nearly forced out of his meditative state by the emotion.

Then, he was startled by the distant sound of gunfire.

It was a burst of rapid fire, followed by a faint, muffled thud.

The gunfire stopped.

That wasn't the sound of the town mayor’s automatic rifle. Xiang Shan quickly deduced that something had happened in town.

Through the walls, he could vaguely hear the sound of chaos outside.

"That kid... I hope he makes it back in time," Xiang Shan sighed, suppressing the "Will’s memories" that kept churning in his mind, and began to assemble his own legs.

He had trained Youji partly because he truly needed a trusted assistant. But that did not mean he was helpless without one.

The installation of the legs had reached the final stage; it only lacked assembly and live testing.

—I hope the live test doesn't turn into a combat test...

Xiang Shan thought to himself. Although these legs had been calibrated when connected to the medical terminal, Xiang Shan had not yet linked them to his own nervous system.

Typeless language could, to a certain extent, increase the difficulty of being hacked by others, but the price was that one could never predict where or what kind of bugs might appear in typeless code.

Not to mention him, even that god-like hacker in his memory... that god-like programmer... who was it again... no one could claim their work was absolutely bug-free.

This was determined by the mathematical limits of human civilization.

But if a bug occurred in a prosthetic drive, especially during combat, it would be fatal.

Xiang Shan quickly embedded the legs into the pre-prepared sockets at his hip, securing circuits, installing parts, and tightening screws one by one...

No step could be skipped. Sometimes, whether a single screw was tightened could decide the life or death of a warrior.

—Faster... faster...

—Bionic boxing is one of the oldest styles, said to trace back to the era of the Martial Ancestor...

—Don't panic, this screw...

—The Lord is a powerhouse who has proven himself; they are the extension of... will...

—Almost there...

The memories from Will turned into demons. Outside, the clamor and the sound of clashing metal intertwined. Xiang Shan could barely distinguish which were the distracting thoughts and which were reality.

Then, there was another loud crash.

A nearby building collapsed.

Followed by the roar of an object breaking the sound barrier.

A rumble.

—Faster...

Then, the noise outside vanished.

Xiang Shan keenly sensed that something was approaching.

—Discovered?

—The essence of bionic boxing lies in...

—Coming for me?

Then, a voice came from outside the door: "Hey, nameless martial artist, you're still in there, right? Now, fellow practitioners of the *Jianghu* have come to test your skills! Won't you come out?"

Xiang Shan struggled to lower his power supply to reduce the heat he generated.

He suddenly realized that this integrated outer armor was truly pathetic. No vacuum layer, no reflective lining, no way to hide his thermal signature...

—Ah, no... if I had that kind of armor, I would need a better cooling system...

—The best cooling system can even be used as a "weapon"... by venting boiling coolant from the acupoints at the right moment, it can mislead thermal tracking equipment...

He had to buy time. There was still one retaining ring on the joint that needed tightening.

This thought flashed through Xiang Shan's mind.

But then, the next sentence came from outside.

"Yo, not coming out? Then I can't say for sure what will happen to your benefactor here."

Then came Youji’s voice. The boy let out only half a hysterical cry before Xiang Shan couldn't hear him anymore. It was followed by a muffled grunt.

—What happened?

Xiang Shan’s prosthetic eye seemed to read his intent. His vision began to expand, and a broader spectrum was incorporated into his visual field.

The reason humans perceive certain things as opaque is that visible light cannot penetrate them.

But in reality, the penetrating power of different electromagnetic waves varies. If some alien species couldn't see the visible light humans see but could see X-rays, then the wood in their eyes would be as crystal clear as glass is to humans.

Xiang Shan’s vision pierced through the house.

He saw the hulking giant who had issued the provocation.

Xiang Shan wanted to say he "felt suffocated," but he no longer needed lungs to breathe.

—Such a massive prosthetic body... such power...

But this thought was overwritten by the next.

—No, that's wrong... Martial arts themselves can overturn the gap in combat power caused by mere numerical accumulation... that is the purpose for which martial arts were designed...

"Hey? Coming out or not?"

The giant seemed to be urging him. —Faster...

Xiang Shan’s prosthetic hand rotated at near-maximum speed, tightening the screw.

The screwdriver sparked against the fastener.

"What the hell?" In Xiang Shan’s view, the giant poked the gate with a long metal staff.

Dust was kicked up, spraying directly onto Xiang Shan’s eyes.

—Almost there...

"Tsk, martial artist, are you trying to tell us: 'This kid has nothing to do with me, do whatever you want'?" Leif shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Tsk tsk tsk tsk, that kind of tactic doesn't work on us heroes of the Green Woods, does it?"

He tossed Youji high into the air and assumed a golf-like stance.

*Zzzzt!*

A short, sharp sound.

A crack appeared on the handle of the screwdriver.

Electric current surged from the battery, injecting into his legs.

At the same time, he covered his fragile eyes with his hands.

Then, the surroundings flared bright.

By the time his conscious mind caught up with his actions, he had already burst out of the house.

The massive steel staff was right before him. Xiang Shan reached out with both hands, hooking the staff, while his legs kicked hard against the ground. Amidst the swirling dust, he spiraled into the air along the steel pole!