Chapter Sixty-Eight: Conflict

In a world shrouded in darkness, a strange fire burned—a flame as if suspended in the void, immensely distant and elusive. From within it, a single strand spiraled out of the deep black emptiness, coiling around the body, its blaze searing the flesh, growing ever more intense, ever more violent...

“Ah!!”

Fang Mu cried out sharply and jolted upright. Suddenly opening his eyes, he felt cold sweat rolling down his face in heavy drops, his gaze filled with terror, his breathing ragged and wild.

He sat in a daze for a long time before gradually regaining his senses. Blinking instinctively, he looked around...

The void was gone, the flames vanished. Sunlight streamed through the window lattice, casting golden light across a spotless, orderly room. The pale blue curtain hung half-open, filling the space with a serenity of clear windows and quiet tranquility...

Where was this place?

Fang Mu lingered in confusion for a moment. His mind slowly began to function again, memories flooding back…

I think… I came to a battlefield hospital? Is this a hospital?

He lowered his head to look at his hands. The skin, once charred and festering, had now fully healed, smooth and fresh as an infant’s.

He checked himself over—he wore a set of pale blue striped patient clothes, with nothing underneath. The exposed skin had completely recovered, with a few metal patches affixed here and there.

Fang Mu quickly touched his face… smooth and unblemished—the huge wound was gone without a trace.

Had he been saved? Had he survived?

Fang Mu let out a long breath.

He checked his body and found no discomfort at all. The genetic energy within him was full and vigorous; a powerful force brimmed inside.

“You’re awake?”

A voice sounded. Fang Mu turned, seeing several medical staff entering the room. A doctor in a white coat approached him. “Are you feeling any discomfort?”

As he asked, the doctor carefully examined Fang Mu’s body. Fang Mu paused, then shook his head. “Thank you, doctor. I feel fine.”

The doctor nodded, glanced at the monitors on the bedside table, and after a moment turned to the nurse beside him. “All data is normal. There’s no sign of rejection.”

The nurse recorded this on a virtual screen.

The doctor turned back to Fang Mu, smiling. “Your condition is good, but we’ll need to observe a bit longer. Over ninety percent of your body was burned. While Type D genetic medicine can heal such injuries, there’s still a small risk of rejection in rare cases. Rest well for the next couple of days.”

With that, he stood and moved aside. Only then did Fang Mu notice he was not alone in the ward—there were other beds, though they were screened off by blue curtains.

“Wait, doctor,” Fang Mu called out, suddenly remembering something.

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked back.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“Hmm, it’s been two days since you were admitted,” the doctor replied after a moment’s thought.

Fang Mu paused, then nodded. “Thank you.”

The doctor smiled and prepared to examine the other patients, but then seemed to recall something.

“Oh, by the way, the person who brought you in didn’t register your identity, and we didn’t find any ID on you either. Take some time to go to the first-floor lobby to re-register your information. Your weapon has been reclaimed by the Armaments Recovery Department—the appraisal value was eight hundred thousand star coins. Treatment cost about five hundred thousand, and after various other expenses, you still have a little over two hundred thousand credited to your patient account. Once you register, you can transfer the money to your private account. Don’t forget.”

Fang Mu was taken aback by this. “The person who brought me in?” His mind was full of questions—hadn’t he come to the hospital himself? He vaguely remembered finding a medic directly. So where did this ‘person who brought him in’ come from?

But the doctor didn’t explain further and went to check on the other patients.

This ward wasn’t for Fang Mu alone; there were several others. After the medical team checked on each patient, they left.

Sitting on the bed, Fang Mu spaced out for a moment, pushing his doubts aside for now, then stood and walked to the bathroom.

Only then did he realize there were four beds in the ward, all occupied. The other three patients were still unconscious.

He took one look and shook his head… On a First-Star battlefield, injuries were all too common.

He entered the bathroom.

Standing before the mirror, Fang Mu was startled by his own reflection… His skin was pale and flawless, his features still handsome as ever—but all the hair on his body was gone. Not only his head, but even his eyebrows had vanished.

His bald head felt oddly cool. He touched it instinctively and saw a rather silly expression looking back at him from the mirror…

He thought for a moment, then stripped completely and checked his whole body in the mirror.

Finally, he confirmed with embarrassment that not a single hair remained on his body.

“Well, being alive is good enough… My skin’s healed, and the hair will grow back eventually…”

He quickly got dressed and washed his face. Washing his head was now much simpler—a handful of water and a quick rub did the job, though it left him feeling a bit chilly and unaccustomed.

After freshening up, Fang Mu walked out of the bathroom with a long sigh.

Just as he exited, he heard a commotion in the corridor. He paused, then instinctively poked his head out for a look.

There, in the corridor outside, a crowd had gathered—each person armed with various weapons, divided into two opposing groups.

Medical staff were shouting for calm, while many patients watched from a distance.

The argument was so heated, with both sides shouting at once, that Fang Mu couldn’t make out what was being said. As he watched in curiosity, he suddenly froze, recognizing a familiar face…

It was a young woman.

She wore twin ponytails, black shorts, and a black T-shirt, her bare midriff slim enough for one hand to encircle—strikingly sexy. Her hands were clad in black gloves, and she stood at the forefront of one side, fury on her face, fists clenched tightly as she glared at the person before her…

Wasn’t this the female boxer who had been with Lin Chuyin that day?

Fang Mu stared in brief surprise.

The person facing her was too tall and thin for Fang Mu to see his face.

Behind both stood many Evolvers, each with a fierce expression, ready to clash at any moment.

Seeing this, Fang Mu’s thoughts stirred.

The female boxer was clearly with the Celestial Palace. That meant the other side… could they be with Greedy Wolf?

Fang Mu’s brow furrowed slightly.