“He agreed? Excellent!”

Rowan lit up as soon as he heard Howard Zhou’s reply.

“Bring him to Unit 175 at Mingyue Villa. I’ll be waiting.”

“That soon?” Howard sounded surprised.

“Yes. Don’t worry the risk of failure is low, and even if it doesn’t work, nothing will happen immediately.”

“Got it.”

After hanging up, Rowan retrieved a gray, refrigerated case. He opened it to reveal three vials of crimson serum.

These were the Extremis samples he had obtained from Killian during their previous exchange.

Earlier that morning, he had consulted Maya Hansen, who confirmed that all three samples were of the latest generation.

This version of the Extremis serum could instantly alter and restructure the user’s genetic makeup, granting them powerful regenerative abilities. Even if gene instability occurred, the effects could be delayed for weeks using a supplementary stabilizer.

Soon, Howard arrived at the Mingyue Community with his cousin in tow. Rowan used the villa’s video intercom to grant them access through the gated entrance.

“Hello, I’m Zhou Ping,” the man introduced himself.

He walked with a limp, his expression worn and defeated a man in his thirties whose former vigor had long faded.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Rowan,” he replied, stepping forward to shake his hand.

Rowan’s gaze quickly swept over Zhou Ping’s injured leg. It was a prosthetic, attached from the upper thigh, explaining the awkward gait.

“Come in, have a seat,” Rowan said, guiding them into the living room.

“Rowan, have you become a certified warrior already?” Howard asked, clearly surprised to find Rowan living alone in the exclusive Mingyue Villa.

Membership in the villa community was reserved for those affiliated with the Limit Martial Hall. If Rowan had moved in, it meant he had passed the qualifying test.

“Yes. I passed just yesterday.”

Howard was genuinely impressed. Rowan was only sixteen. Becoming a warrior at that age meant his future potential was extraordinary.

“Not only that, I’ve been accepted into the Elite Training Program at the Limit Hall’s Global Headquarters,” Rowan added casually, pouring water for all three of them.

“What?!”

Howard and Zhou Ping shot up from their seats, eyes wide in disbelief.

“I’m not joking,” Rowan said with a smile.

He raised his hand and curled a finger. Instantly, various objects in the room levitated into the air.

“A psychic warrior…” Zhou Ping murmured in awe.

“No wonder…”

He and Howard exchanged a look. Now everything made sense.

A sixteen-year-old warrior who had awakened as a psychic of course the headquarters would extend him a coveted spot.

With that realization, Zhou Ping’s anxiety began to fade. Rowan had been approved as a future Warlord, a rare prodigy. He wouldn’t joke about something this serious.

Rowan had revealed his credentials precisely to gain Zhou Ping’s trust.

After chatting a little longer, Rowan asked Howard to step out and reminded him not to share anything they had discussed.

“Brother Zhou Ping, take a look. This is the serum I want to inject,” Rowan said, beckoning with one finger. The refrigerated case floated over from the corner, hovering in front of Zhou Ping before opening on its own.

Inside was a crimson vial.

“I call it the Extremis Serum,” Rowan explained.

He had deliberately avoided using the word “virus.” That would have sounded far less reassuring.

“Extremis Serum…” Zhou Ping repeated, his eyes lighting up. He had dreamed of restoring his body for years.

Rowan smiled at his reaction. All he needed was Zhou Ping’s voluntary consent.

“This serum will absolutely regenerate your lost limb,” Rowan said calmly. “And it will permanently grant you an advanced healing factor. As long as your head stays on your shoulders, any injury you suffer will heal on its own in no time.”

Zhou Ping stared in stunned silence.

The effects sounded far beyond anything he had ever imagined.

Better than even the legendary Water of Life, which was worth 30 billion credits per vial.

“And beyond that,” Rowan continued, “it may grant you control over high internal temperatures somewhere between 2,000 and 3,000 degrees. Your overall physical attributes might see minor improvements too.”

He laid everything on the table.

“My God…”

Zhou Ping could hardly believe what he was hearing.

He had never encountered a drug with such extraordinary potential.

“But Rowan… what’s the success rate?” he asked cautiously. He wasn’t naïve. If something this powerful had no side effects, it would sell for hundreds of billions, not end up in his hands.

“My estimate? At least 50 percent,” Rowan said evenly.

Earlier that day, Maya Hansen had explained that the success rate for retired soldiers those with decent constitutions was about 30 percent.

Rowan believed that martial artists from the Swallowed Star world would fare much better. Their bodies were naturally stronger. The odds had to be at least 70 percent. But since he lacked real-world data, he chose to stay conservative.

“Fifty percent? That’s enough for me.”

Zhou Ping made his decision without hesitation.

He understood that if the serum weren’t still in its experimental phase, someone like him disabled and forgotten would never get this opportunity.

A one-in-two chance at getting his life back?

He would take it.

“Excellent. If it works, you’ll become the world’s first Extremis warrior. If it fails, I’ll personally compensate your family with one billion credits.”

Rowan pulled out a folder from his bag.

Inside was a contract he had printed in advance.

Zhou Ping scanned it and found the terms straightforward, with no hidden clauses. He signed without a second thought.

He had once been a promising young martial artist.

But he failed his warrior assessment publicly, humiliatingly and became the butt of jokes.

Many times, he had wished he’d died that day rather than live with the shame.

Now, for the first time in years, he had a shot at redemption.

He wasn’t going to let it slip away.

Rowan nodded as he watched Zhou Ping sign the papers.

With this legal protection in place, even if the serum failed catastrophically, the authorities wouldn’t come after him.

“All right, Brother Zhou Ping, I’m going to inject the serum now,” Rowan said, removing the vial from the case. “Relax even if side effects occur, they won’t show up immediately. You’ll have one to two months to make arrangements for your family.”

He could sense Zhou Ping’s nerves and tried to reassure him.

“That’s good to know.”

Zhou Ping finally relaxed and rolled up his sleeve.

With practiced hands, Rowan injected the serum slowly and steadily into the vein at Zhou Ping’s elbow.

The moment the crimson liquid entered his bloodstream, Zhou Ping felt a surge of heat radiating through his entire body.

Within five or six seconds, it felt as though his blood were boiling his veins alight with fire.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep