Chapter 196: Are You Crazy?

After school on Tuesday, Richard went to the combat club to find someone.

The club's training hours ran from the end of classes until six in the evening.

When Richard reached the doors of the training hall, hoarse shouts were still echoing from inside.

The heavy thuds of fists hitting sandbags, the clatter of protective gear, and boys shouting cadences all blended into a chaotic din.

Looking in from the doorway, Richard saw Coleman sparring with Fraser.

Coleman threw a punch; Fraser dodged sideways and countered with a hook to Coleman's jaw.

Coleman tilted his head to slip the strike and threw another punch.

The two of them exchanged blows, their speed faster than the last time Richard had watched them.

He leaned against the doorframe and waited for five minutes.

Coleman finally had his fill. After knocking Fraser onto his rear, he pulled off his headgear and hung it on the sandbag rack.

He turned, spotting Richard at the door, and looked clearly surprised.

"...Richard?"

Coleman walked over, slinging a towel around his neck.

"Didn't we agree to meet on Saturday? Why are you here today?"

"I need to talk to you about something," Richard said, lowering his voice. "Let's go outside."

They stepped out of the training hall.

The narrow path outside the gymnasium was practically deserted.

Withered winter grass lined both sides, and a row of red-brick buildings on the main campus stood in the distance.

Coleman wiped away his sweat with the towel.

"...My mom's been nagging again at home," he said with a laugh. "She said since you're coming over next week too, she wanted to know if there are any snacks you like."

"Ahem." Richard coughed.

"Don't tell me you're backing out of coming to my house this week?"

Coleman narrowed his eyes. "If that's the case, I need to give her a heads-up."

"It's not that." Richard waved a hand.

He pulled the long Silver Needle case from his waist pouch.

Coleman's gaze lingered on the long Silver Needle case for a moment.

"That Moon Nail of yours?"

"Yeah."

Richard laid the ugly truth out first.

"I've figured out a new way to use the Moon Nail."

He chose his words carefully.

"In theory, it can temporarily enhance the activity level in parts of your circuits."

Coleman stopped walking.

"Enhance? How exactly?"

Richard opened the long case, revealing the neat row of Silver Needles inside.

"By piercing your skin with a Moon Nail. Preferably the forearm."

He was direct:

"Once the needle enters your body, the condensed aether will diffuse into the surrounding Micro-circulation. It can temporarily push the activity of that intact circuit segment to a level much higher than normal."

Coleman's expression froze.

He looked down at the row of Silver Needles, then back up at Richard.

"...Richard, are you out of your fucking mind?"

Coleman yanked the towel off his neck and bunched it in his hand.

"Stab me with a Moon Nail? You know what those are for, right?"

His eyes went wide. "This thing is used to deal with evil creatures. Stabbing it into something tears open a rift on the aetheric plane."

"And you want to stick this thing into my flesh? Are you treating me like an evil creature?"

Coleman stared hard at him:

"The inner section of my forearm is the core channel that Hunters primarily train."

"If something goes wrong, my left arm is crippled.

I can at least still box right now. You want me to be a cripple?"

Richard didn't argue.

He knew Coleman's reaction was entirely normal.

The [Moon Nail] Spell Formula was classified as an offensive technique across the entire occult world.

Using it to stab a living person sounded like something only a lunatic would do.

If someone had pitched this idea to Richard for the first time, he would have thought they were crazy too.

Coleman stared at him for a few seconds.

"When I heard your first couple of sentences, I almost thought you were going to take me for some proper treatment."

Coleman wiped his face with the towel. "But it turns out you just want to stab me with a Moon Nail?"

"Don't you think this plan is completely unhinged?"

"I know it's absurd," Richard said helplessly. "That's why I didn't make any absolute promises from the start."

"Tell you what, let me show you the effects first."

Coleman raised an eyebrow.

"Show me what effects?"

Richard didn't answer. He rolled up his left sleeve.

On the pad of his left index finger, the original puncture wound had healed until it was barely visible, though a tiny burn scar remained.

Coleman leaned in for a closer look.

"...You've already stabbed yourself?"

"A few times."

He looked at Richard like he was an absolute maniac. "And you were fine after?"

"You can tell by the fact that I'm standing right here." Richard spread his hands.

Coleman's expression softened just a fraction.

"The finger is an extremity," he pointed out.

"If something goes wrong when you stab your finger, you lose a finger at worst.

If something goes wrong with my forearm, my whole arm is crippled. It's two different things."

"I know they're two different things. That's why I'm going to stab myself right now to show you."

Richard pulled a brand-new Silver Needle from the long case.

This time, he didn't choose his finger. He rolled his sleeve up further, exposing his entire left forearm.

"I'll pierce the inside of my own forearm, corresponding to the exact same spot on yours."

Coleman watched him.

"...You said you've stabbed yourself a few times. Those were all on your finger? You haven't done your forearm?"

"No."

"So if you do it right now to show me, you're just treating yourself as a guinea pig."

"Correct," Richard answered without a shred of hesitation.

Coleman gritted his teeth. "You really are crazy."

Richard gripped the Silver Needle:

"If I don't even dare stab my own forearm, why should I expect you to trust me?"

He took two steps to the base of the wall and leaned against the red bricks, deliberately putting on a display of reckless abandon.

"Just stand aside and watch. If anything goes wrong, take me to Mr. Hutton's office immediately..."

"Richard." Coleman frowned. "You don't have to do this."

"I do."

Richard wiped down the intended injection site with an alcohol swab; a layer of goosebumps rose on his skin.

Coleman stood beside him, his eyes locked tightly on the Silver Needle.

Fourfold Breathing reached the exhalation phase of the third cycle; aether pushed outward from the Seat of the Sun to his fingertips.

The effect inverted, and the Silver Needle plunged down.

"Sss!"

Richard's entire left forearm pulled taut from the inside, the muscles twitching in a brief spasm.

The needle tip only pierced five millimeters into the skin, but as the inverted Moon Nail detonated, the entire main channel was scoured by a concentrated wave of dispersing aether.

Coleman's pupils abruptly shrank.

He didn't possess Spirit Vision, but having practiced the Path of Blood Ignition for years, he had a basic intuition for the flow of aether in himself and those around him.

He watched as the "brightness" of the main channel along the inside of Richard's forearm was pushed to a level far beyond normal.

Richard pulled the Silver Needle out.

A very faint burn mark surrounded the puncture. Three seconds later, the wound closed.

Richard clenched his left fist, then relaxed it.

Coleman looked at him.

"How does it feel?"

"Right in line with my estimates. The Micro-circulation across my entire left forearm just got flushed clean. Its sensitivity is a notch higher than before."

"Duration?"

"It lasted about ten minutes on my finger."

Richard recalled that experiment. "It should be a bit shorter for the forearm. I won't know the exact duration until I wait and see."

Coleman's brows slowly knitted together; he still felt Richard was a complete lunatic.

But crazy and effective weren't mutually exclusive. He glanced at Richard's puncture wound again.

"...It closed in three seconds. When I scrape my skin boxing, it takes days just to scab over."

Richard smiled, continuing:

"That's a byproduct of this new method. While it reinforces and activates that section of Micro-circulation, it simultaneously pushes your wound-healing speed to a temporary peak."

Coleman squeezed the towel tight in his hand.

"Fine, I'll trust you just this once!" He extended his left arm and rolled up his sleeve.

"Wait a second." Richard stopped him.

"Hm?"

"After I pierce you, your left arm is going to have some reactions.

I can't tell you exactly what those reactions will be in advance, because your circuits are different from mine."

"If anything feels wrong, tell me immediately."

"Got it."

Richard spread his Perception outward, confirming that the path outside the gymnasium was completely empty.

They stood against the red-brick wall, shielded from distant eyes by a row of holly shrubs at its base.

Using Spirit Vision, he locked onto the silhouette of Coleman's fractured circuit.

Coleman's main channel began in his chest cavity, trailing down past his left shoulder to his fingertips.

The activity level across the entire meridian was extremely high—a clear mark of his training in the Path of Blood Ignition.

But in the middle section, there was a glaring, sunken "break."

Richard bypassed the break, aiming the Silver Needle at the most saturated point on the upper segment.

"Ready?"

"Do it."

An alcohol swab wiped the skin. The Silver Needle lined up with its target, and plunged in!

Coleman's pain tolerance was clearly higher than Richard's. He merely furrowed his brows, not even letting out a grunt.

The Silver Needle stayed in his forearm for less than half a second before Richard dismissed the Spell Formula and pulled it out.

Coleman stared at his left arm.

Aside from a slight burning sting at the puncture wound, a wave of "refreshing clarity" blossomed from the inner side of his arm.

The sensation was similar to plunging a hand into ice-cold well water at the peak of summer.

He squeezed his fist, then released it.

"That 'stifled' feeling in my arm is gone."

Coleman rolled his shoulder.

"Ever since I started training in blood ignition, my whole left arm has harbored this indescribable feeling of being 'clogged up.'

I thought it was just hidden damage from my training that couldn't be fixed."

"The instructors say everyone who trains in blood ignition feels it. But now, that stiffness is just gone."

Richard knew that although Coleman's circuit was congenitally fractured, the segment above the break was still intact.

That needle strike had just scoured the inner walls of a long-clogged water pipe.

"Once that refreshing feeling fades, your left arm will enter a period of weakness."

"When I pierced my own finger, it lost some strength afterward. The duration of the weakness is roughly the same as the enhancement."

"What if I get pierced every day..."

"The periods of weakness and enhancement will stack."

Richard answered quickly. "As for how exactly they stack, there's not enough experimental data."

Coleman stretched his entire shoulder and neck again.

"Could I... come to you for a needle regularly?"

Richard agreed readily. This was exactly what he wanted:

"I'll give you one every two days. Any more frequent and your circuits might overload from constantly being refreshed."

"But you have to keep this a secret. I'm still figuring this out myself."

"There's no one I could really tell anyway, and you know it."

Coleman rolled his sleeve back down.

"Last time, you asked me if I'd still walk the path of a Hunter if the congenital defect in my circuits could one day be cured."

Richard shoved the Silver Needle case back into his bag and tilted his head to look at him.

"I still can't give you an answer to that."

Coleman looked up at the red-brick buildings in the distance. The evening sun had dyed their exterior walls a warm orange.

"But at least now, I have another option."

Richard finished packing his things. "I have other things to do. I'll get going."

"Yeah." Coleman draped the towel around his neck again.

Richard turned and walked toward the academic buildings.

After he had taken about ten steps, Coleman called out from behind him.

"Richard, are you still coming to training on Saturday?"

"I'll be there."