The mercenary wasn't breathing.
"Bone is harder than steel," Code explained calmly, as if he were giving a lecture. "It can't be cut by a conventional blade. And if I break it…" —he flexed his forearm, and the blade deliberately fractured in half, the fragments falling to the ground— "…it grows back."
Right before the mercenary's eyes, the surface of Code's forearm tightened briefly and a new bone emerged, identical to the previous one, in a matter of seconds.
The man let out a sound that wasn't quite a scream.
Code lowered his arm.
He took a step back and looked at his own hands with the same concentration he had seen in Amado a thousand times. He channeled chakra to his fingertips. He felt the familiar deep tingling. And then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, three bone fragments shot out from the index, middle, and ring fingers of his left hand, striking the post to which the mercenary was tied. Not the man. The wood. Three centimeters from his left side.
The bone splinters embedded themselves in the wood like nails.
"Projectiles," Code murmured. "That works too."
Another hour passed before the sun began to decline.
Code sat on the ground with his back against the wall of an already ruined house, studying the surface of his outstretched arm. He had spent the last forty minutes attempting something more precise: controlling the density of the bone selectively as it grew. Amado had mentioned that possibility almost in passing, as if it were a minor detail.
It wasn't.
If he could make the bone denser at the tip and lighter at the base, penetration would increase dramatically. If he could do the opposite, impact resistance would be greater. It was the difference between an offensive weapon and a defensive one, and Code wanted both.
So far, the results were inconsistent.
Sometimes he achieved the gradient he wanted. Sometimes the bone emerged uniformly, without any variation in density. It was a matter of concentration, he realized. When he kept the image clear in his mind, the body responded. When he lost focus, even for a second…
Then he felt it.
It was subtle at first. So subtle he almost ignored it.
A strange warmth. Not the kind from the chakra he himself was channeling, but something different. Something coming from the outside, seeping through his skin without permission, like water slipping through the cracks of stone.
Code went completely still.
Natural energy.
He hadn't tried to absorb it. It was simply… entering.
On its own.
As if his body recognized it.
As if it had been waiting for it.
The sensation lasted barely five seconds before disappearing, as silently as it had arrived. But in those five seconds, Code felt something he had never felt before. His senses expanded briefly beyond his body—he could perceive the wind before it touched his skin, the rapid heartbeat of the mercenary twenty meters away, the dull vibration of a bird landing on a rooftop to his left.
And then it was gone.
Code lowered his arm slowly.
He remained silent for a long moment, staring at nothing in front of him.
Jūgo's DNA.
He hadn't undergone the second process yet. He hadn't been officially injected. But the genetic material Amado had begun preparing, the biological fluids already circulating as precursors in his system…
They were already working.
He stood up.
He looked at the palm of his right hand. Closed it slowly. Opened it.
Two weeks, Amado had said.
He didn't have two weeks.
The process had to start now.
When he reached the lab, Amado was exactly where he always was: in front of his monitors, with a cup of cold coffee he never drank and an expression that didn't change regardless of what happened around him. He looked up when he heard Code's footsteps, and something in his gaze sharpened slightly.
"You have blood on your forearm," he observed.
"I was practicing."
"Of course." Amado set the cup down. "Well?"
"The Shikotsumyaku works." Code stopped in front of the desk. "Control of speed, form, and projection. Regeneration is almost immediate. Variable density requires more work, but it's possible."
Amado nodded as if he already knew, which was probably the case.
"Anything else to report?"
Code looked at him steadily.
"I felt natural energy entering my body without me invoking it."
That made Amado pause. He picked up the tablet beside him and began scrolling through data in silence.
"How long did it last?"
"Five seconds. Maybe less."
"Side effects?"
"Sensory expansion. Increased perception of my immediate surroundings."
Amado wrote something down. Then set the tablet aside.
"Jūgo's DNA is being more active than I anticipated," he said calmly. "Your Karma is integrating it passively, just as it did with the Kaguya clan's DNA." —He paused.— "That accelerates the process, but it also means the second procedure will be more unpredictable."
"I don't care."
"I know." Amado stood up. "That's why I already have everything prepared."
Code looked at him.
"Since when?"
"Since you left this morning." A faint inflection in his voice, almost imperceptible. "I knew you'd come back before the two weeks."
Code didn't respond.
He walked toward the containment chamber.
The liquid filling it this time wasn't green. It was a dark amber color, almost orange, and it moved with a different viscosity. More organic. More alive.
"One warning," Amado said behind him.
Code stopped but didn't turn.
"Jūgo's DNA doesn't attack the skeleton like the Kaguya clan's. What it modifies is the nervous system and the glands. Your body will learn to secrete the fluids that allow the transformation of flesh." —A pause.— "But the natural energy you absorb during the process will be greater than what your mind is prepared to process. You may lose control. You may turn against everything in this laboratory."
"Including you."
"Including me."
Code finally turned to look at him.
"And you're doing it anyway?"
Amado watched him with that unreadable expression he had always had.
"I have my reasons," he said simply.
Code nodded once.
And stepped into the chamber.