Healing System

"Hu Rong, do you have any money?" Michael asked with a soft smile—a stark contrast to his inner feelings.

"Yes, Master Mujin!" Hu Rong exclaimed, flipping his daoist robes inside out to reveal a hidden pocket.

He extended his hand confidently, reaching inside, but as moments passed and nothing emerged, his expression fell.

With a glum look, he turned toward Michael and bowed. "Master Mujin! It seems like someone has stripped me of my possessions!"

'Of course they did...' Michael facepalmed at his supposed disciple's carelessness before walking forward.

He had all the necessities to sleep outside; it did not really matter.

If anything, he could always form a small barrier, which would make it warm inside—not that he felt cold anyway.

The two were wandering about, with Hu Rong following him as though he was some kind of guard dog. It was a mystery if he was actually able to fight—Michael had not seen anything of the sort yet.

He had been too preoccupied with his own spar to notice.

Before the two knew it, they had walked through half of the city, with Michael simply enjoying the views and culture.

Many of the people here were kind and modest, but of course there were some who had poisonous personalities; despite that, a large majority were in his good graces.

The two made a turn and arrived in some alley crossing, one that seemed decorated with all sorts of symbols.

However, as they passed by and entered the main street, what greeted their sight was a particular street—one that had one too many provocative women nearby.

Added to that was the massive building in sight, one that fit the location he was initially looking for on the map.

The two had decided to meet the client, mostly because Michael wanted to check out the extent of his injuries—it would speed up their journey by a long shot.

Michael sighed inwardly and walked into a nearby alleyway with Hu Rong before trying out something new.

He traced the flow of mana, especially the one heading straight into his back and the wings, and attempted to reverse it.

His first attempt was a failure; all he managed to do was solidify his wings further. However, on the second, a little bit of progress was made.

The mana was cutting itself off while at the same time connecting with his inner reserves and seemingly assimilating, until finally, a connection formed.

It was faint, barely noticeable at a single glance, but to Michael—who had been strengthened beyond his limits—it was clear as day.

Controlling the energy in a way that made it go back inside him, he saw his wings get noticeably smaller.

However, the strange energy that was similar to mana had a density that far outweighed it—causing quite the imbalance.

Nonetheless, he persevered, drawing in all of that mana toward his mana core, immediately feeling lighter.

It was relieving, but at the same time, he felt vulnerable—a feeling he could not quite put into words.

'Did my strength decrease...?' Michael questioned; he felt completely different.

It didn't. Angels have similar reactions; without their wings, they feel normal. I guess you might be closer to an angel than a demon after all, the system nonchalantly remarked.

'I guess so, huh?' He chuckled at the irony and inspected his body.

His mana core felt like a well, and at the very bottom of it was the energy that had been used by the wings.

He tried willing it to come up, and immediately, the pair of wings he had previously reappeared, slashing at the nearby walls—even ripping them to shreds.

'Whoops...' Michael quickly hid his wings in the mana core and proceeded to walk forward and out of the alley—paying for the damages was not something he could do currently.

However, as his steps continued, he noticed a particular sound was amiss—that being the sound of Hu Rong walking beside him.

As Michael turned around, he noticed Hu Rong standing on the other side of the alleyway—his mouth wide open in shock.

'Oh right, I guess I was a bit too comfortable.' Michael sighed before walking back over and patting him on the shoulder.

"Your master has the, uhh... Venerable Wing Physique," he said with a straight face, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

And despite his awful attempt at lying, Hu Rong's eyes widened before he cupped his fists and bowed. "You are amazing, Master Mujin!"

'This guy is too stupid.' Michael smiled and walked back onto the main road before heading straight for the brothel.

There were some vivid descriptions of the client, such as: male, black hair, brown eyes, ugly.

However, that did not really narrow it down that much, as nearly everyone around him looked the exact same—except for the daoist robes, which had different shades of color. Continue your journey with empire

Nonetheless, he would try to find him all the same, preferably in one piece.

Michael went through the main entrance of the fancy-looking brothel, outlined by many symbols that were covered in stains—he didn't want to think what they were from.

He confidently walked up to a woman who appeared to be the receptionist of the joint before speaking. "Is there a man by the name of Gu Wan here?"

She softly smiled at him before closing her eyes. He was expecting to receive an answer, but all he got was silence.

There were a lot of things he would have rather not seen, but nonetheless, he eventually managed to narrow down his target.

It was a man of decent strength—Tier 2—yet he was lying wasted in a room all by himself.

Telling the features was a bit difficult, but the one thing that gave it away was the weak mana Michael felt. If he was really injured, then that's him.

Excusing himself from the reception and seemingly taking a right turn, he headed upstairs; no one was stopping him.

Not even Hu Rong, who had been following him all this time with a bit of confusion plastered all over his face.

Granted, it was pretty unusual for the master to bring his disciple to sightsee in a brothel. Unless that was normal in Murim, Michael did not know.

The two made their way up to the 3rd floor and arrived before a door—one that had all sorts of different stuff strewn around it.

Despite that, Michael resolutely knocked on the door, awaiting an answer.

But as the minutes passed and he could tell Gu Wan was not moving away from the bed, he decided to take it into his own hands.

Casting a miniature sword of light and greatly reducing its strength, he sent it straight at the doorknob and cleanly took it off.

Pushing forward, the door opened, and before him was a man with ordinary features—certainly not as ugly as he had been described.

However, the main thing that stood out was the fact that the room was neat—a stark contrast to the place they were currently in.

'Is he living here?' Michael thought with a bit of pity in his heart.

If he was rich enough to hire someone for 1 Gold, why not rent an estate instead?

But he couldn't ask those questions, as despite the commotion, the man was still sleeping soundly, his breath stinking of booze.

More importantly, Michael could see a certain ailment on the man—one that was familiar to him.

'He's cursed...'