I am a necromancer, and I absolutely love America.

Chapter 93 [The Secret of Flesh and Blood] Mission Completed (50,000 words completed, please vote and subscribe)

Richard glanced at him. Daniel's head was burning with worry and caution, but his eyes held no resentment. Clearly, this shrewd fellow had already grasped the situation.

Richard didn't think much of it, and after thinking for a moment, he said, "I'm just a middle school student, I don't need a second copy, you can take it."

For him, the idea of ​​a second CNS work is completely meaningless.

But to Daniel, this statement could be interpreted in any way he wanted.

Daniel couldn't figure out Richard's true intentions, but he decided to express his goodwill first.

With a pained expression, he pulled out an unopened bottle of medicine: "This is the smart drug I just bought, the top-of-the-line version. I accidentally bought too much, so I'm giving it to you."

"Smart drugs?" Richard looked at him in confusion.

He had heard of this thing, but had never seen it before.

Public high school students don't use this stuff at all. Rather than smart drugs, if they had the money, they might choose to get a Nine Dragons Acupuncture to make their biceps bigger and thicker, or some other high-tech thing to make them run faster on the football field.

In fact, in Ivy League and private high schools where academic pressure is high, "smart drugs" are no secret.

These are usually medications like acetaminophen and phenobarbital, which were originally prescription drugs for ADHD but were mistakenly used as learning stimulants.

Take one before the exam to ensure stable performance.

Take two pills while working on your thesis late into the night, and you'll be full of energy.

Some people even mix crushed medicine powder into their coffee and drink it as a beverage.

It does have effects, such as boosting concentration, but the side effects are also frightening: insomnia, anxiety, rapid heartbeat, and excessive consumption can easily lead to depression.

The most ironic thing is that all schools turn a blind eye. Anyway, if you can withstand the side effects, you're a top student; if you can't, it's because you're not physically fit.

What if I accidentally kill myself with it or develop depression?

Then I'm sorry, it's because your drug resistance is not strong enough, and you yourself are not strong enough. You should be eliminated, that's the logic of social media.

Richard even suspected that in another hundred or two hundred years, America might actually be able to cultivate a group of drug-resistant elites.

Like the StarCraft Marines, they take an injection before work and research, completely ignoring the side effects.

Richard reached out and took it. It was a bright red medicine bottle, very exquisite, and looked quite valuable.

The medicine was a bit of a rip-off, but Richard knew Daniel wasn't trying to scam him.

In the context of America, especially in a place like Princeton where people are driven to the brink of death, his intentions were truly good.

After observing for a period of time, he found that students at Princeton and private schools were clearly divided into two categories.

One type is the academic superstar, whose grades are extremely outstanding, and many of them take a lot of "smart drugs".

One type is where the father donates a building, and someone with an IQ of 80 can lie down and get into an Ivy League school, and then graduate lying down.

Daniel, whose talent is extremely limited at Princeton and who doesn't have a powerful father to donate a building, has no choice but to rely on various methods...

They each used their unique abilities.

For example, he managed to please the professors and senior students, and he still graduated.

Richard accepted the smart drug.

Daniel breathed a slight sigh of relief, knowing that there was at least a chance for things to calm down.

However, this matter is definitely not going to be easily forgotten. Richard may hold a grudge, but he may be able to keep it to himself.

As Christina's academic successor, Richard's future is beyond Daniel's imagination, and he is also known for his good looks and wit.

If this incident actually leads to a Nobel Prize, he needs to completely remove this thorn now, otherwise there will be endless troubles in the future.

We need to think of another way.

Richard casually placed the medicine on the table.

Edgar looked over enviously.

"You want it?" Richard asked curiously.

"I want it, but this bottle costs $375. I can't afford such high-end stuff."

"Would you like some?"

Edgar replied matter-of-factly, "Yes, I've been taking it since elementary school. I've tried several different medications, but one in particular is the best, though it's not as good as yours—it's too expensive."

"Awesome. Eating this for over ten years without any major problems is quite an achievement." Richard said admiringly, "It's yours."

Edgar exclaimed in surprise, "Really?"

"Of course. If Daniel sends you any more smart drugs in the future, you can have them all."

Edgar was overjoyed; this was practically his own father! Not only did he help him secure the project, but he also gave him free medicine.

"From now on, your problems are my problems. If your mentor ever makes things difficult for you, just mention my name!" Edgar said, taking full responsibility.

"Are you sure? For example, what if P is replaced by someone else?"

"No, no, no!" Edgar was terrified.

Nathan Becker returned to his office, closed the door, and muttered curses under his breath.

"This Christina is really outrageous. She's just relying on her status as a Nobel laureate, her student being a Nobel laureate, and her academician status, and—never mind."

"Anyway, I'm relying on myself—"

Nathan swallowed back what he was about to say.

"What kind of nonsense is this? Forcing everyone to re-examine a project that's already been scrapped. It's like blatantly insulting everyone!"

Nathan thought about the situation at the meeting and his anger subsided.

Even Caldersen didn't dare to say anything. What could a mere president of the equipment management department (basically equivalent to the director of the logistics department in a domestic university) do?

If I am the only one who loses face, then I truly lose face.

If everyone loses face, then sorry, it's the person who caused the trouble who loses face.

Who caused the trouble? Logically, it should be Christina, but Calderson backed down, so it must have been Calderson who caused it.

Whoever is in a lower position is the one who causes trouble.

Success is called upholding justice; failure is called overestimating one's abilities and asking for trouble.

Nathan turned on his computer.

He has been away from front-line research for many years; this project was applied for with the help of his students, and his name was credited on it.

If the application is approved, he can earn tens of thousands of dollars from the project funds.

Nathan messaged the students to inform them that the project had been approved and to let them start working.

He then accessed the internal management system of the equipment management department.

The logistical aspects are very complicated, and Princeton students are difficult to deal with.

The students and their families could barely handle it, but the main problem was the various privileged kids at the school.

He has received all sorts of unreasonable demands, so outrageous that just reading about them raises his blood pressure.

For example, the daughter of a Wall Street tycoon demanded that all the dormitory floors be replaced with solid wood floors, because "my yoga mat needs a more luxurious feel."

For example, the son of a high-ranking education official demanded that the school gym provide fresh coconut water 24 hours a day. However, if his bodyguard prepared it at home and then delivered it, it would not be fresh.

Some students even demanded that the school kick out their roommates because they snored, or else they would post online accusing Princeton of discriminating against people with sleep disorders.

If the demands of those second-generation rich kids are not met, then things will get even more complicated.

Those students would actually call the principal directly, and the principal would pressure Nathan to resolve the problem because the students' parents would actually donate money to the school.

Therefore, the logistics management system has a VIP list, which includes all second-generation relatives. Business involving these VIPs will be prioritized and an alert will be issued, requiring an immediate response.

Nathan turned on his computer, complaining about Christina's behavior while adding Richard's name to the VIP list.

As soon as I finished setting it up, a notification popped up.

Nathan looked and saw that Richard had indeed made a request: "The light at the dormitory entrance is broken, fix it."

Checking the history, Richard had already submitted it twice.

The first time, the request was closed directly. The second time, the logistics department's reason was "parts are being procured, please wait patiently."

In reality, it's because repair requests from ordinary students have too low a priority, meaning they have to wait at least a month.

Nathan grabbed the phone and dialed: "Carl, fix the problem with order number XXXX immediately, right now!"

"But... all the workers have been sent out, and it's too cold; many of the air conditioners are broken."

"These are students on the VIP list, process them immediately!"

"VIP list! I understand, I'll go fix it myself!"

Roger Howard staggered back to his dorm: "Huh? The lights are fixed? When did that happen?"

He walked over to Richard's room next door with an air of familiarity: "Bro, what's wrong with the lights? Is the school starting personnel changes?"

Richard was opening the door to let in some fresh air: "I don't know. Maybe he suddenly had a sudden burst of kindness?"

"Wow, that's rare. Which big shot donated money again?" Roger pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, its packaging prominently displaying green Western leaves. "Have one, Canadian brand, this one's strong!"

"I don't smoke," Richard said decisively after just one glance.

Roger Howard shrugged, took a cigarette and put it in his mouth, but Richard didn't smoke, so he didn't light it either, which made him seem quite well-mannered.

*Ding!* Roger Howard's phone rang. He glanced at it and grinned, "Richard, there's going to be some fun tonight, wanna come?"

Richard knew what he was up to the moment he saw his lewd grin: "Never mind."

Roger grinned as he showed the photos: "This time it's me against three. Come on!"

Richard was eager to broaden his horizons, but Roger's tastes were very American—simply put, he preferred large, plump buttocks.

"Never mind." Richard felt a little nauseous. "Take some medicine. I'm afraid you can't handle it alone."

Roger, unashamed, pulled out a strip of sildenafil: "I've been prepared all along. Let's fight until dawn! How about I share half with you?"

Richard said helplessly, "No need, I'm perfectly healthy."

Richard sighed. He had planned to stay in the dorm for the night, but now it seemed that wouldn't be an option.

Having excellent hearing isn't necessarily good news either.

"It's best to keep your voice down."

"No problem, I'll gag them with duct tape, that'll be even more exciting." Roger readily agreed.

"You can join anytime, just knock on the door." Roger chuckled and left: "I'm going to pick up the girls."

Richard figured he'd be totaled if he slept here tonight, so he promptly drove back to Queens and texted Catherine: "Make my dinner tonight."

"OK!" Catherine sent a picture of a cheongsam.

Richard replied, "It's not as good as the last one."

OK.

Dominic rushed to Calderson's office, only to find Calderson looking extremely grim.

"Mentor, what's going on? Weren't the review results already out? Why has it changed?"

Calderson could no longer contain himself and burst into a tirade: "That Christina is utterly inhuman!"

Anger, frustration, and a sense of injustice all eventually turned into helplessness.

He could only recount what happened at the meeting, but added some modifications to avoid making himself look too embarrassed.

Christina threatened everyone that if that project wasn't approved, all the others would be rejected.

He, the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Princeton University, had no choice but to agree in order to consider the bigger picture.

Dominic was incredulous: "Veto all projects? She's just a committee member, how dare she veto all projects? I don't think she'd dare; she's probably just intimidating us."

"Nonsense, she's too daring! She's already done it!" Calderson thought, but he couldn't say that in front of the students; it would be too embarrassing.

"She's a madwoman! A tyrant! I can't risk it, otherwise what about the other programs at the academy? If she really does that, we'll be in big trouble—"

Dominic's face also looked very unpleasant, and he finally said somewhat aggrievedly, "Professor, then my project—"

"You should work on that 30 project first."

Dominic was very disappointed, but there was nothing he could do.

The 30 yuan project was of little help to him, mainly because without Christina's name on the project, he wasn't confident he could publish in CNS journals.

His talent lies in manipulation, in surgery, but he doesn't want to go to the hospital; he wants to stay at the academy and take a position, which is extremely difficult. "Close the door," Calderson suddenly whispered.

Dominic's eyes lit up. Could there be a chance? He quickly closed the door.

Calderson whispered, "The school is in talks with a foundation about an unlimited endowment, which is said to be $5000 million. The liberal arts college should get around $1500 million. This hasn't been made public yet. The school's top management is negotiating with the foundation. Once that money comes through, I should be able to get you around $100 to $200 million from it."

Dominic exclaimed in surprise, "Really?!?!"

So what if Christina is a Nobel laureate?

Only high-ranking positions within the school can obtain this intelligence in advance!

Calderson nodded, and said smugly, "The news hasn't spread yet, so don't let it slip. You should get ready. I'll help you polish that paper from last time. As long as the data looks good, I'll help you get a second-phase in-depth research project. That should be enough for you to stay at the university."

Dominic was overjoyed: "Thank you, mentor!"

Richard put his coat on the hanger and changed into slippers.

A delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen; Catherine was already cooking.

Debbie was bouncing around on the yoga mat, dressed very lightly. When she saw Richard, she immediately flashed a happy smile and gave him a childlike, flirtatious wink, saying, "Richard! Come help me train!" (I don't know where she learned it from, but I don't know).

Richard smiled and said, "Okay. Your gaze is a bit too deliberate; you need to improve."

Debbie snorted dismissively, sensing that something was off about the situation at home.

Catherine wore an obviously abnormal cheongsam every day.

She was still Richard's girlfriend in name only, but Richard neither agreed nor refused.

After she bravely went public on the football field last time, her father's unexpected death disrupted her plans. Richard then went to Princeton, and the two had fewer and fewer opportunities to meet, causing Debbie's heart to grow increasingly anxious.

Catherine glanced back at the two of them.

Her daughter was becoming increasingly infatuated with Richard, and she didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Serving a deity wasn't so unacceptable to her; it was just that her position was somewhat awkward.

I was here first.

Catherine said nothing and continued cooking.

After the meal was finished, Richard and Catherine ate facing each other.

After Debbie finished her workout, she took a shower. Her face was rosy, her hair was a little damp, and she looked incredibly youthful. She ran around the room in a tight-fitting tank top.

Catherine couldn't stand it any longer: "Debbie, get dressed properly."

Debbie rolled her eyes and draped a blanket over herself.

He sat down and took a few bites before saying, "I'm not eating anymore."

But he brought a plate of sausages upstairs.

"Isn't she on a diet? What's she doing?" Catherine asked in surprise.

Richard calmly replied, "She's not eating it herself; she's feeding her pets."

"A pet?" Catherine exclaimed in surprise. "Where did you get a pet?"

Richard, eating rice, said, "A cat. I heard a cat's voice."

Catherine pursed her lips, but didn't say anything.

Americans are very accepting of pets, and it's relatively rare to find someone like Catherine who doesn't have a cat or dog at home.

Richard said, "I've heard that holding a cat can calm people down. Mike just died, so she needs emotional comfort."

Catherine nodded: "I've secured that clinic on the Upper East Side. You can go take a look when you have time. We still need to select the equipment, and I plan to purchase it within a month. We also need to hire staff during this time. Once the equipment arrives, we can officially open for business."

Richard listened and ate his meal in a relaxed manner.

Click!

A flash of light came from outside the window.

Catherine got up and drew the curtains, her face looking very unpleasant.

"Damn reporter!"

Since Michael's death, Debbie has been associated with the starling goddess, and reporters frequently come to take photos of her.

Richard didn't pay attention.

His host family was Catherine's family, so it was perfectly normal for him to eat there; there was nothing to hide.

Catherine continued, "I found an anesthesiologist named Oliver. He was fired from the hospital for drinking heavily before surgery, but he has a good relationship with the hospital director, so he only notified all the public hospitals in the city and didn't report it to the state medical board. Therefore, Oliver has an AB1 anesthesiology specialist certification and can still perform anesthesia."

Richard asked, "Why not find a proper anesthesiologist?"

"Because he's the cheapest."

A very strong reason. Richard smiled: "Very good."

Catherine smiled and said, "Local anesthesia is 800, general anesthesia is 1500. This price is only 40% of what a licensed doctor charges. If you want to negotiate further, we can lower the price even more."

However, considering his mortgage and his daughter's need for money at a private university—”

Richard glanced at Catherine in surprise, not expecting her to be so kind-hearted.

Catherine remained unfazed: "No, what I mean is, he needs a constant stream of money, and no public hospital will take him, nor will private hospitals want someone with a professional stain. So he'll be very stable, as long as he doesn't drink excessively. I've signed an agreement with him: if he drinks heavily before surgery again, he'll lose all his wages for that month. He has no other choice but to work diligently, otherwise his life will be completely ruined—"

Richard nodded: "It's up to you."

Although Richard kept telling Catherine to make the decisions, Catherine would still find time to report the various changes at the clinic to Richard.

Catherine said dismissively, "Sophia went to the Saint Ferdinand Valley; she really went to film a movie."

"Really? That's surprising." Richard appeared surprised, but in reality, after Sophia betrayed him last time, he sought out a time when Sophia was experiencing withdrawal symptoms and amplified her desires.

Then Sofia completely lost control.

She had no other way to make a living; she had to do this for money.

"What's your stage name?" Richard asked with interest. "Let me see how high the artistic value of these films is these days."

Catherine pursed her lips: "I don't know. I never watch those kinds of movies."

"I think so," Richard laughed.

A friend of mine went to film a movie; it was quite interesting.

He first searched for Sofia and found a poster.

It's Sofia herself, but she seems to have had some cosmetic surgery; her lips are fuller now.

In the poster, she is sitting in the middle of a sofa, with seven or eight black people standing behind her.

Sofia's makeup was heavy, and she looked reasonably energetic, but she was very thin and had many tattoos on her body.

"She's finished," Catherine commented after one glance. "She's used hard drugs."

Richard turned off his phone and looked upstairs: "I'll go check on Debbie."

Catherine paused for a moment, then said nothing.

Richard strolled upstairs, and without knocking, pushed open the door to Debbie's room.

Debbie was startled and quickly stuffed the things she was holding into the blankets: "Why did you suddenly come in? Couldn't you knock? How rude!"

Richard said with a smile, "Let me see the cat."

Debbie immediately gave him a pleading look: "Don't tell Mom I found it."

As he spoke, he took out a pure black cat with golden eyes. It was only two or three months old and looked very cute.

As soon as it came out, it meowed and tried to lick Richard's fingers.

Richard masturbated a few times; the furry thing felt quite comfortable.

If I kill him, can I be resurrected as a servant?

An animal servant may be able to do many things that humans are not suited to do.

However, animal servants may have poor intelligence and not understand commands.

The black cat seemed to sense something, and its fur stood on end in fright. It retreated and huddled in Debbie's arms, unwilling to come out.

Debbie picked up the cat tenderly: "Don't scare it."

"Have you chosen a name yet?"

"Not yet," Debbie said, sounding troubled. "And I don't dare tell Catherine."

Richard looked down at Debbie.

From this angle, you can see the mountain peaks and valleys.

"You don't need to worry."

Why?

"I've already told Catherine that you have a cat."

"Oh my god! How did you know? Catherine has always told me not to have any pets! I love it so much!" Debbie said pitifully, hugging the cat.

The black cat was so heavy that it couldn't lift its head.

Richard shrugged: "Even if I don't tell you, you won't be able to hide it for long. She's waiting for you downstairs to apologize."

Debbie's face immediately fell: "Could you talk to Mom for me? I can tell she listens to you a lot."

This statement struck Debbie as odd.

Richard's position at home is like that of a young, elderly father.

"Young" refers to age, while "old father" refers to status.

The mother and daughter were completely under his control.

Richard smiled. "Go on, Catherine will give you some money to buy a cat bed, cat food, and things like that. It's new and needs a bath. Has it been tested?"

"No, I picked it up from outside."

"Take it to the pet store for a check-up, then give it a thorough bath to prevent fleas."

"Okay. Can you give it a name?"

"Salem," Richard casually gave the classic name of the witch's black cat.

"I don't like witches, I'm a saint!" Debbie hugged the black cat and kissed it repeatedly.

"Then, a shadow? A shadow under the saint's radiance?"

"Okay, let's call it Shadow!" Debbie mustered her courage and carefully carried the cat downstairs.

Soon, Richard heard Debbie's voice from downstairs: "Thank you, Mom!"

Debbie excitedly pushed open the door and ran out.

Richard could clearly see that as Debbie ran, the black cat was being hit by the two mountains, its head bobbing up and down.

It's getting dark; time to go to work at 0CWME.

During this period, through constant dissection and suturing, my knowledge of "flesh and bone" grew rapidly.

He couldn't wait to see the effects of level 3 [Flesh and Bone], whether it would increase his constitution by 3 points again, or if there would be some other changes.

If I increase my physique by another 3 points, I should be able to break through the limits of human potential.

Perhaps you can't catch a bullet with your bare hands, but catching a blade bare-handed shouldn't be a problem, right?

The night was dark.

OCME was brightly lit.

Formalin was always present in every corner of the building.

Richard assisted forensic pathologist Simon in performing autopsies and suturing.

Because of his rapid progress, Irving no longer needed to follow along; Richard could provide support on his own, along with Rex to do the odd jobs.

Richard's movements are very fast, and his technique is getting better and better.

Forensic pathologist Simon has begun to have him take over some simple autopsy work.

Simon particularly admired and liked this young Dongda student, and often taught him practical techniques during anatomy lessons.

Now, Richard also performs autopsies on some simple murder cases, with Simon providing guidance, which makes things a bit easier for him.

Under normal circumstances, someone like Richard, who has no qualifications whatsoever, would never be able to take the stage.

But this is not the normal situation.

With Christmas approaching and the weather getting colder, the number of homeless corpses would normally increase, but the NYPD's crackdown on gangs has added to the problem, resulting in a large number of bodies being produced every day.

Recently, OCME has been receiving more and more corpses, more than double the usual number, and also significantly more than the same period last year.

All the forensic doctors were simply too busy, so people like Richard, who could help with autopsies, became highly sought after.

If you don't say anything, and I don't say anything, and we turn off the surveillance, who's breaking the rules? I don't know.

Anyway, Simon was nominally the one who dissected them.

Simon was happy to take it easy and satisfy his vanity of mentoring geniuses by transferring part of his stipend to Richard.

Besides Simon, the other two forensic doctors also discovered Richard's talent.

Anyone can be lazy; there's a $30 subsidy for dissecting a corpse at night.

It might not seem like much to a professional forensic pathologist, but it's a very high amount for Richard's income.

Simon was a good person; he gave Richard all $30 if he wanted Richard to do the dissection.

Richard can now dissect five or six corpses every night, earning a nightly allowance of $150-$180. Combined with his $150 daily wage, his daily income has now reached $300.

If you work part-time every day, your monthly salary can reach as high as $10,000, which is definitely a high salary.

Of course, this is just a special situation during this period.

Once the NYPD's crackdown on gangs ends and all the homeless people who were supposed to freeze to death have frozen to death, the number of corpses will return to normal levels.

At that time, forensic doctors would usually choose to perform the autopsies themselves, which would greatly reduce Richard's income.

However, during this busiest period, the entire OCME turned a blind eye to this situation, which has been an unspoken rule for many years.

Besides Richard, there was also Helen and two forensic interns from the NYPD who could perform autopsies.

From this perspective, Marlowe was relatively cautious. Those who could do this kind of work were all considered to have connections, which greatly reduced his own risk of betraying his partner and also reduced the workload of the forensic pathologist.

Unlike forensic pathologists who only want to complete autopsies, Richard, Helen, and others work hard and perform autopsies meticulously in order to learn the techniques.

The actual effect is not bad; all you need is a forensic doctor to stand by and provide guidance.

Of course, it doesn't matter if the cut isn't done well, since the corpse won't complain about the pain or the unsightly wound.

Frequent practice has given Richard increasingly better control over suturing and dissection, and the progress of the "Flesh and Bone" branch has reached 89%.

The quest "[Secret of Flesh and Blood]" keeps changing, making it feel like it could be completed at any moment, as if it's just missing a breakthrough.

With Richard having dissected the last body, his work for the night was finished.

Simon said casually, "Alright, you can do the final stitching yourself. I'm leaving."

"OK!" Richard nodded.

"I'm going to take a nap, I'm too tired," Simon said, yawning as he left.

Rex has gone off somewhere to slack off again, leaving Richard alone in the entire dissection room.

Simon had complete faith in Richard's skills, especially in the later suturing, which was purely physical work and didn't require much attention.

Richard got his chance.

The body was that of a man, who, according to the intelligence sent by ICE, was a smuggled immigrant to the United States. Such bodies are usually cremated in a few days and nobody cares.

Richard decided to dissect the body again to gain a more intuitive understanding of human anatomy.

Judging from his appearance, he might be a student from the University of Tokyo. He has fair skin and glasses marks on the bridge of his nose, so he probably works in an office in China.

However, this guy has now become a forgotten corpse in the Lighthouse, left on 0CME, and has become free material for Richard to practice on.

Awesome.

This time, Richard did a very meticulous job.

He dissected all his organs, examining them one by one, and comparing them with the knowledge in the book.

They carefully studied the location of every blood vessel and the way every bone and fascia connected.

Richard calmed himself down and ran his fingertips across different organs, noting the different tactile sensations of each organ.

The sensation of fingers moving between muscles, touching blood vessels, meridians, and fascia is also different.

Richard's sense of touch has reached the limits of human ability; he even discovered that he could feel the slight sensation of capillaries in his fingers.

Human capillaries are extremely dense, reaching up to 20 per square millimeter in densely populated areas such as the lungs, heart muscle, brain, liver, and kidneys.

00-3000 roots.

In the superficial layers of skin, the density is very low, with approximately 50-100 strands.

Even bones, tendons, and ligaments have a small number of capillaries.

The size of capillaries also varies; some are thicker, and some are thinner.

A network of blood vessels, covering the entire body, vaguely appeared in Richard's mind.

In areas with dense blood vessels, such as internal organs, it's still a red network of blood. In areas like skin and fat, Richard can even see every single capillary!

It wasn't about seeing with your eyes, but rather an indescribable, magical perception.

Richard could touch the corpse and feel every tissue—skin, muscle, tendons, fat, and bone.

Everything transformed into a three-dimensional image, appearing directly in Richard's mind and superimposed on the corpse.

He felt as if he were seeing a scene he had never seen before.

In an instant, the world changed.

"Ding! The quest 'The Secret of Flesh and Blood' is complete. Based on your discovery, you are rewarded with a new skill: Flesh and Blood Mastery."

"【Flesh and Blood Control】: You have begun to glimpse the true mysteries of flesh, blood, life, and death. Your ability to control flesh and blood has reached a level that is difficult for ordinary people to understand;

You have obtained a [Blood and Flesh Chest], which can store [fresh flesh and blood], size: 13 units;

You can absorb fresh flesh and blood from the wounds of any animal;

You can consume [Fresh Flesh] to transform any animal corpse into a [Flesh Golem] for your temporary use. Mana cost: 2. Duration: 6.5 hours.

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