Chapter 40

  The Velocity of Recovery

  Thud.

  He hit the rock like a sack of bricks and felt the inside of his gut slosh.

  I’m so damn full.

  Hours of butchering, hauling, smoking meat.

  Shoving every drop of that buck’s chi straight down his Core's throat.

  Channels screaming.

  Muscles trembling.

  Teeth grinding.

  I need more.

  Always more.

  He cranked it.

  Faster Core means faster regeneration right?

  Gotta go fast.

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  Liquid steel rushed through his channels.

  The roaring speed created a friction that burned.

  Sweat exploded off him like he’d stepped into hell's sauna.

  Faster and faster.

  Treating his body like a wind tunnel, vibrating with a roar.

  Pressure built behind his eyes threatening to pop them like grapes.

  He just squinted harder.

  Fingers clawed furrows in solid stone.

  Faster.

  Until the last stubborn chunk of chi surrendered and melted into the storm.

  The Core spun smoother, faster, hungrier.

  A Lambo at idle, begging for the redline.

  One ragged laugh.

  “Faster ball, baby.”

  He punched a rock into a pillow.

  The granite cracked like a skull.

  Then the world went black.

  Morning came with a groan and a splash of spring water over his head.

  “Okay,” he rasped. “Now I’m ready to establish dominance.”

  He stood at the cliff edge, fists on hips, pant leg flapping, grinning at the sunrise.

  “Master of my domain.”

  Birds exploded into the sky.

  A tree the size of a house shook like a giant flicked it.

  Under the branches: one massive, pissed-off silhouette moving with slow, deliberate murder.

  Ken cracked his knuckles.

  “Time to punch a bear to death.”