They dumped him just inside the Custodial Quarter gate, his torn robe tossed on top of him like a shroud. The world was a blurred tunnel of white-hot pain radiating from his back. He lay on the packed dirt, unable to move, listening to the retreating footsteps of the overseers.[Host status: Critical. Multiple lacerations contaminated with ‘Soul-Burn’ toxin. Systemic shock imminent.]The System’s words floated through the haze. He knew he was dying. The spirit-thorn poison was doing its work, creeping toward his heart and core.But something else was happening, too. That tiny, patched-together meridian cluster in his chest the ‘Lesser Heart’ conduit was still humming. It was pulling at the ambient energy, yes, but more importantly, it was actively tugging at the poison inside him. Not to expel it, but to process it.[Emergency salvage protocol active. Treating ‘Soul-Burn’ toxin as high-grade corrosive waste.]The grinding, industrial sensation returned, this time focused on the woun