novelraw Chapter 294: Scalpel
Chapter 294: Scalpel
Lin Jie did not answer immediately.
He walked over to the Louisiana map, his gaze falling on the red-circled area marked as "Delacroix," the land of death.
"Isabella is right. This upcoming hunting feast is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for any ambitious hunter. On this grand stage, I might just make a name for myself and rise to the top in one fell swoop." He thoughtfully tapped the map with his finger.
But in truth, his reason for joining this game differed somewhat from those sharks drawn by the scent of blood.
Bounty money, Lin Jie no longer desperately needed. While his previous investments hadn't fully borne fruit yet, the wealth accumulated from past missions was sufficient for his current needs.
Not to mention, there was still Ethan, the rich second-generation heir, to consider.
Reputation, while he did aspire to become a renowned figure on the Hunter Ranking, one must eat rice one mouthful at a time. The contributions accumulated by those top hunters, or their personal strength, were likely still beyond his current reach to challenge.
For now, he had only one goal: to obtain materials from that unknown Kingdom-class UMA to enhance his own strength, or to find a possibility that could extend William's life!
"Although the Tai Sui failed, thinking about it conversely, if I could find a force equally powerful, capable of suppressing or even killing life's vitality, could that also, from another angle, kill the alien spirituality within William's body?" This thought surfaced in Lin Jie's mind.
It was a conjecture without any theoretical basis and carried risk.But any sliver of possibility was worth him taking the gamble.
To survive in this "Dark Forest" game and become the ultimate victor, his current strength was far from enough.
[Serene Heart] was his most reliable long-range sniping and mental defense weapon.
[Cursebreaker Vambrace] was his tactical game-changing tool for dealing with special circumstances.
[White's Airspace] was his trump card, the ace up his sleeve, a wide-area control ability capable of instantly reversing the battle situation.
These three together formed Lin Jie's unique combat system, centered on "precision," "strategy," and "control."
However, after the heart-stopping close-quarters encounter with the Slick-Skin Devil, Lin Jie had also keenly realized his biggest current shortcoming.
He lacked a melee weapon capable of handling sudden close-quarters situations, one that was sufficiently concealed and lethally deadly.
In chaotic melees with complex situations and obstructed sightlines, the revolver's rate of fire and margin for error would be severely limited.
And Lin Jie's future battlefields—whether the miasma-filled swamps of Delacroix or the humid, dense tropical rainforests of Southeast Asia that Julian was exploring—were precisely the kind of death zones that most tested close-quarters combat ability.
He needed a melee weapon.
A blade that could thoroughly embody the combat philosophy of "one-hit kill" and "killing without a trace."
"I need a blacksmith," Lin Jie said, turning to Isabella.
A "just as I thought" smile appeared on Isabella's face.
"Follow me," she said, stubbing out her cigar and standing up decisively. "I'll introduce you to the most unique Armament Blacksmith in the entire American South."
She led Lin Jie through the warehouse's back door, entering a secret passage belonging to New Orleans's local inner world.
Finally, they stopped before a shop hidden deep in a back alley of the French Quarter, disguised as a "Herbs and Charms" store.
The storefront was small, the light dim. The air was filled with a pungent yet strangely alluring scent, a mixture of various unknown herbs, animal bones, and alchemical concoctions.
A hunched, dark-skinned, lame black man who looked at least seventy years old was sitting in a rocking chair with his eyes closed, resting.
His face was covered with deep, knife-cut wrinkles, as if recording a lifetime of hardship and vicissitudes.
"Dr. Iron," Isabella called softly. "I've brought you an interesting 'patient.'"
The old man called "Dr. Iron" slowly opened his eyes.
They were very turbid eyes, as if covered with a white film. His gaze slowly swept over Lin Jie.
"Seems like a very interesting soul," Dr. Iron's voice carried a unique rhythm, like an old blues singer's. "He carries the scent of northern steel, the mystery of Europe, and even a hint of spirituality from the desert, older than these swamps."
With just one glance, he had seen through Lin Jie's complex origins.
"I need a weapon," Lin Jie said, getting straight to the point.
He took out from his coat the Ghost Jellyfish's neurotoxin sac, sealed in a spiritually inert glass vial, still emitting faint spiritual fluctuations.
When Dr. Iron saw that nearly transparent, phantom-like sac, a fiery light burst forth in his turbid eyes.
"Sensory disconnection and severance..." he murmured. "What a marvelous property."
"This is practically a merciful anesthetic bestowed upon mortals by the Loa spirits."
He looked up at Lin Jie. "Speak your mind, child. What kind of 'surgical tool' do you wish for me to concoct with this anesthetic?"
Lin Jie detailed the design requirements he had meticulously thought over in his mind.
"I need a blade."
"A blade capable of 'injecting' this toxin into an enemy's body in the most efficient and concealed manner possible."
"Its appearance must be utterly ordinary, easily foldable and hidden in a corner."
"Its attack must be absolutely silent, without any extraneous energy fluctuations or sounds that might expose my position."
"And most importantly," Lin Jie's gaze turned razor-sharp, "I need its poison to be regenerative."
This requirement made even the well-traveled Dr. Iron raise an eyebrow slightly.
"Regenerative poison?"
"That's right," Lin Jie affirmed. "I need this weapon to be more than just a consumable."
"I want it to function like a living organ, using this toxin sac as its gland, able to automatically, slowly secrete and replenish new venom within a certain timeframe after each injection."
To turn an inanimate object into a living armament with life-like characteristics.
Dr. Iron fell silent.
After a long while, this lame black man who had forged weapons and curses in the dark corners of New Orleans for a lifetime revealed a rather brilliant smile on his face.
"This idea... it's possible. It's too wonderful."
He stood up from the rocking chair, revealing a mechanical prosthetic leg made of brass and gears, with a steampunk aesthetic.
"Leave the materials here," he said to Lin Jie.
"Come back in three days to collect your 'scalpel.'"
...
Three days later, when Lin Jie returned to the herb shop, Dr. Iron placed a long, narrow object wrapped in black velvet before him.
Lin Jie unfolded the velvet.
Inside lay a blade.
A very simple, even somewhat plain-looking, foldable straight-edged blade.
Its handle was forged from specially treated, matte-finish heavy brass, presenting a light-absorbing black color.
The handle's surface bore no intricate carvings, only a few simple anti-slip grooves etched for better grip.
The blade was about six inches long, slender yet resilient.
The blade material wasn't ordinary steel, but an unknown crystal with a semi-transparent, frosted-glass-like texture.
Lin Jie could sense that this was precisely the Ghost Jellyfish's toxin sac, purified and solidified through some masterful alchemy into a crystalline form.
Whether folded or unfolded, the entire blade perfectly embodied the words "low-key" and "concealed."
It resembled an ordinary tool that any gentleman on the streets of London or Paris in 1889 might carry, used for opening letters or sharpening pencils.
Yet beneath this plain exterior was hidden a concept of death that made life tremble.
"I call it [Silencer]."
Dr. Iron's voice rasped out.
"The handle's interior is hollow. I implanted the main body of that toxin sac inside completely, using our Voodoo spirit-attaching techniques to create a symbiotic relationship between it and the entire handle."
"It is now the 'living heart' of this blade."
"On the blade, I etched thirteen microscopic holes invisible to the naked eye."
"These holes are connected to the 'heart' inside the handle via a miniature pressure-conduction device I designed."
"When you stab this blade into any warm, soft object," a hint of morbid fervor appeared on Dr. Iron's face, "the pressure device inside the handle is automatically triggered."
"It acts like a micro-syringe, instantly injecting 0.01 milliliters of highly concentrated neurotoxin through those tiny holes into the target's bloodstream."
"And after every three injections," he grinned, revealing yellowed teeth, "that living heart needs approximately six hours to resecrete and replenish the next dose of anesthetic."
"It is a surgical tool for paralysis and assassination."