The taste of copper was heavy in Han Sen's mouth. Every breath felt like a serrated blade was sliding down his throat. He leaned against the damp alley wall, his fingers digging into the rotting wood.
[HP: 2/10]
[Status: Soul Strain. Internal organs are failing.]
He could feel the cold vibration of the city's pulse through his thin soles. People passed him by, their gazes filled with the usual dismissive weight. To them, he was just another Level 1 beggar dying in the mud. They didn't know that three blocks away, a Level 55 Elder had been erased from existence.
Han Sen pulled his cloak tighter, hiding the slight glow of the iron alchemist badge. He needed to reach the Guild. It was the only place with the herbs he needed to patch his crumbling body together.
The walk felt like an eternity. By the time he reached the white jade gates of the Alchemist's Guild, the sun was high and cruel. The guards from before were gone, replaced by two men who stood like statues. When they saw Han Sen's badge, they didn't speak: they simply stepped aside with a heavy, respectful silence.
He stumbled into the main hall. The scent of lavender and expensive charcoal hit him, a sharp contrast to the filth of the slums.
"You look like death, boy."
Grandmaster Mo was standing by the spiral staircase. He didn't move toward Han Sen. He just stood there, his "Gaze" piercing and predatory. He looked at the blood on Han Sen's collar and the hollow look in his eyes.
"The Huntsman's bird has stopped screaming," Mo said, his voice a low rumble. "The city guards found his cloak in the ruins. There was no body. Just a hole in the world where a man used to be."
Han Sen didn't look up. "He was trespassing."
The silence that followed was absolute. Mo's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine terror crossing his face before he masked it with a professional calm. He realized that the Level 1 boy in front of him was not just a genius: he was a monster that played by different laws.
"Go to your lab," Mo whispered. "I will have the life-essence herbs sent up immediately. And Han Sen: the City Lord is looking for you. He wants to know if the threat is gone."
"Tell him the hunter became the prey," Han Sen said, his voice a dry rasp.
He climbed the stairs, each step a mountain. When he finally reached his lab, he locked the door and collapsed onto the stone floor. The [Dimensional Anchor] hissed as it sealed the room.
Nixi hopped out from his cloak, her feathers sparking with a worried, golden light. She pressed her warm chest against his cheek, chirping softly.
[HP: 1/10]
[Warning: Immediate intervention required.]
Han Sen reached for a bundle of 'Sun-Leaf' herbs on the table. He didn't use a furnace. He didn't even use a bowl. He simply crushed the leaves in his palm and activated [God-Hand Transmutation].
The leaves didn't burn. They imploded into a single, glowing drop of green liquid. He swallowed it, the coolness spreading through his chest like a refreshing rain.
[HP: 5/10]
[Status: Stabilizing.]
He lay on the cold floor, listening to the silence of the lab. He was safe for now, but the Heavenly Beast Sect would not forget the loss of an Elder. They would send an army next time.
He looked at his 10 HP. He was a god of destruction, but his body was a glass bottle. He needed to find a way to make himself untouchable.
"Next time, I won't just erase them," Han Sen whispered to the ceiling. "I'll make them regret ever knowing my name."