Two weeks passed. For Izuku, it was an agonizing test of patience, but for Shen Yue, watching his shattered skeleton knit itself back together in a mere fourteen days was nothing short of terrifying.
By the fifteenth morning, the deep, suffocating ache in his chest had faded to a dull throb. For the first time since waking up in the Profound Sky Continent, Izuku managed to sit upright in a full lotus position without his vision swimming.
Resting on his lap was the worn copy of the Mortal Breath Mantra. He had spent the last two weeks memorizing every single brushstroke. The concepts were foreign - dantians, meridians, spiritual gates - but his analytical mind had quickly mapped the ancient diagrams to his own nervous and cardiovascular systems.
"The concept is simple," Shen Yue had told him over a bowl of bitter porridge that morning. "Air goes to the lungs. Spirit Qi goes to the Dantian. Do not force it. Guide it like water down a gentle stream."
Taking a slow, deep breath, Izuku closed his eyes. He blocked out the smell of boiling herbs and the distant chirping of mountain birds. He focused entirely on the empty space just below his navel - his Dantian.
At first, there was nothing. Just the rhythmic beating of his own heart.
But as minutes ticked by, he felt it. It started as a faint tickle against his skin, like the static electricity before a thunderstorm. It was the ambient Spirit Qi in the room. Following the mantra's instructions, Izuku visualized opening the pores of his skin, inviting that static energy inside.
A single thread of Qi slipped into his body.
The moment it crossed the threshold of his skin, Izuku's core reacted. But it wasn't a conscious activation. He didn't call upon One For All. Instead, the dormant embers buried deep in his cells simply... woke up.
Whoosh.
There was no crackle of green lightning. There was no explosive shockwave of power.
Instead, the embers acted like a sudden, bottomless vacuum. The gentle stream of Qi that Izuku had intended to carefully guide through his meridians was violently sucked inward. It didn't tear his pathways; the gravity of his dormant power was simply too absolute. The ambient Qi in the room rushed into him, instantly being crushed and compressed by the sheer weight of his foundation until it turned into a heavy, dense drop of liquid energy.
Across the room, Shen Yue abruptly stopped grinding her herbs.
Her golden eyes snapped toward Izuku. To the naked eye, the green-haired boy looked completely normal. He was sitting perfectly still, his breathing steady, no sweat on his brow.
But to Shen Yue's spiritual senses, the room had just been plunged into a vacuum. The ambient Heaven and Earth Qi, which usually floated lazily through the air, was plummeting. It was all rushing toward the boy on the bamboo mat, vanishing into him without a single trace.
Usually, when a mortal gathered Qi for the first time, their unrefined bodies would leak ninety percent of it back into the air. They would glow, they would sweat, and their aura would fluctuate wildly.
Izuku wasn't leaking a single drop. He was a flawless, impenetrable vessel.
What kind of monster is he? Shen Yue thought, a shiver running down her spine. To devour Qi with such absolute silence... if a major Sect discovered this kind of talent, they would start a war to claim him.
Izuku slowly opened his eyes, letting out a long, grounding exhale. He looked down at his hands, clenching his fists. The heavy, liquid drop of energy resting in his Dantian felt entirely different from the chaotic, bone-breaking pressure of One For All. It felt cool, controlled, and distinctly his.
"It worked," Izuku whispered, a bright, genuine smile breaking across his face. He looked up at his caretaker. "Miss Shen, I felt it! The energy - it didn't hurt!"
Shen Yue stared at his blindingly pure smile, her wariness melting away into a complicated sigh. Whoever this boy was before he lost his memories, he clearly had no idea how terrifying he actually was.
"You did well, Izuku," she said softly, walking over to hand him a cup of warm water. "Your talent is... remarkable. If you continue at this pace, you will officially step into the first level of Qi Condensation within two weeks. For an ordinary person using such a basic technique, that same step would take at least three months."
Izuku took the cup, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. "I owe it all to you. If you hadn't taken me in, I would have..."
CRASH.
The heavy wooden doors of the apothecary suddenly splintered inward, violently kicked open from the outside.
Sunlight poured into the dim room, silhouetting three large, heavily armored men. The man in the center carried a massive, rusted broadsword resting casually over his shoulder. He had a jagged scar across his nose and a leer that made Izuku's stomach instantly turn.
"Shen Yue!" the scarred man barked, his voice booming like a cracked bell. "The Iron Wolf Mercenaries have come to collect this month's protection fee. And since I hear your business has been slow, my offer from last week still stands. Marry me, and you won't have to pay a single copper coin ever again."
Shen Yue's expression instantly iced over. Her golden eyes narrowed, and for a fraction of a second, Izuku felt a terrifying, suffocating pressure radiate from her - but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. She placed a protective hand in front of Izuku, stepping forward.
"Zhao Fen," Shen Yue said, her voice cold and not even bothering to address his title. "I told you last week. I would rather drink poison than join your pack of stray dogs. Leave my clinic."
Zhao laughed, a harsh, grating sound, and took a heavy step into the room. "Now, now, Yue. Don't be like that. We're in a dangerous world. A fragile little mortal woman like you needs a strong cultivator to protect her from the beasts in these mountains. If you won't come willingly, I might just have to..."
Zhao didn't finish his sentence.
Before Shen Yue could even raise her hand, a blur of motion swept past her. A gust of wind rustled her robes.
Izuku was suddenly standing in the center of the room, directly between the towering mercenary and the apothecary. His green eyes were locked onto Zhao, entirely devoid of the warmth they had held just seconds ago. He didn't strike a martial arts stance, nor did he flare his aura. He just stood there, his back straight, his right hand clenched into a fist at his side.
"I think," Izuku said, his voice calm but vibrating with an undeniable, heavy authority, "you should leave."
Zhao Fen stared at the green-haired boy. For a moment, the room was dead silent. Then, the mercenary threw his head back and barked a harsh, ugly laugh.
"A hero!" Zhao mocked, wiping a tear from his eye. He glanced at the two thugs behind him, who were chuckling darkly. "A crippled little mortal boy wants to play hero! You don't have a single drop of Qi leaking from your pores, boy. I could crush your skull with two fingers."
Izuku didn't move. He didn't blink. He just stared at the mercenary with cold, calculating eyes. In his mind, he wasn't looking at an untouchable cultivator. He was looking at a bully. A thug who picked on people weaker than him.
"I won't ask again," Izuku said softly.
"And I won't give you the chance to!" Zhao snarled. His amusement vanished, replaced by cruel irritation. He didn't even bother drawing his broadsword. Instead, he simply raised his massive, armored hand and swung it in a vicious backhand aimed directly at Izuku's head, fully intending to snap the boy's neck.
Shen Yue's breath caught. She stepped forward, her fingers curling as she prepared to summon her alchemic fire. Cover be damned, she wouldn't let the boy die.
But she was too slow.
Izuku didn't flinch. As the armored gauntlet blurred toward his face, his analytical mind calculated the trajectory in a fraction of a second. He tapped into the heavy, liquid drop of Qi resting in his Dantian, sending it rushing through his newly-forged meridians and directly into his right arm.
There was no flash of green lightning. There was no battle cry.
Izuku simply raised his hand and caught the mercenary's wrist.
CRACK.
The sound echoed like a gunshot in the small apothecary. Zhao's forward momentum halted instantly, as if he had swung his arm into a solid mountain of iron.
The mercenary's eyes widened in absolute shock. He tried to pull his arm back, but Izuku's scarred fingers were locked around his wrist like a vise. The boy hadn't even been pushed back an inch.
"What..." Zhao gasped, staring at the perfectly still teenager. He finally tried to push his own Qi into his arm to break free, but before he could even gather his energy, Izuku moved.
Pivoting on his heel, Izuku twisted his waist, channeling the sheer, monstrous physical power of his newly-knit bones and that single drop of compressed Qi. He drove his right fist directly into the center of Zhao's armored chest plate.
It was a completely silent strike.
But the impact was devastating. The rusted iron breastplate caved in instantly, warping under the concentrated kinetic force. Zhao Fen didn't even have time to scream. The massive mercenary was lifted entirely off his feet and launched backward, flying through the splintered doorway like a ragdoll.
He crashed violently into the dirt street outside, tumbling several times before slamming into a wooden cart, shattering it into splinters. He didn't get back up.
The two remaining mercenaries stared at their unconscious leader in the street, then slowly turned their terrified eyes back to the green-haired boy standing in the doorway.
Izuku slowly lowered his fist. He didn't look exhausted. He didn't even look out of breath. He simply looked up at the remaining thugs.
"Take him," Izuku commanded, his voice deadpan. "And don't come back."
The two men didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled backward, tripping over each other as they rushed into the street, grabbing Zhao by his boots and dragging his groaning body away as fast as they could run.
Inside the clinic, the silence was deafening.
Izuku let out a long breath, rubbing his scarred knuckles. He turned around, offering Shen Yue an apologetic smile.
"Sorry about the door, Miss Shen. I can fix that for you."
Shen Yue just stared at him, her golden eyes wide. He hadn't leaked a single trace of Qi. He hadn't used a martial art. He had simply used a body so terrifyingly dense that it treated a seasoned mercenary like a wet paper towel.
He really is a lunatic, she thought, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at the corner of her lips. A very, very dangerous lunatic.