Alchemist Reborn: Ruler of the Immortal Legion

4

"How many more of these things are in the building, Valerie? Speak quickly, or I’ll let Tigor use your head as a stress ball."

Han Chen’s voice was as sharp as a razor, cutting through the heavy, metallic scent of blood that now filled the lab. He was seated again, his body draped over the chair like a discarded cloak, but his eyes—those burning, golden pits—were locked on the Captain.

Valerie didn't flinch, though her hand still gripped her holster. She looked at Tigor, who was currently wiping black ichor off his new, massive forearm with a discarded lab coat. The man looked like a demon carved from obsidian.

"The initial breach reported five signatures," Valerie replied, her voice remarkably steady for someone who had just witnessed a miracle and a massacre. "But Richard doesn't do anything halfway. If the Proyek X failed, he’ll have a tactical team waiting at the perimeter. We’re in a kill box, Han Chen."

"A kill box for them, perhaps," Han Chen muttered. He turned to the ten men standing before him.

They weren't the broken, hollowed-out veterans who had limped into the room twenty minutes ago. They stood taller, their shadows elongated by the flickering emergency lights. The *Blood-Ignition Catalyst* was still humming in their veins, a low-frequency vibration that made the very air around them shimmer.

"Tigor," Han Chen called out.

The giant stepped forward, the floor groaning under his weight. "Tuan."

"Take your brothers. Clear the floor. If they are human and they surrender, disarm them. If they are... like those things," he gestured to the shredded remains on the floor, "erase them. I want this hospital secured before the sun touches the horizon."

"Consider it done," Tigor growled. He gestured to the others, and they moved.

They didn't run; they blurred. Their movements were no longer restricted by human biology. They moved with the terrifying, silent efficiency of predators. As they slipped out of the lab and into the darkened hallways, the sounds of combat changed. It was no longer the rhythmic chatter of assault rifles—it was the sound of tearing metal, muffled grunts, and the heavy thud of bodies hitting the floor.

Valerie watched them go, a chill running down her spine. "You’ve created monsters, Han Chen. The Council won't let this stand. You’re playing with forces that Arkas City hasn't seen since the Great Collapse."

"I haven't created monsters, Captain. I’ve created an army," Han Chen said, struggling to stand. He leaned heavily on a rolling cart filled with chemical beakers. "And as for your Council... they are merely ants arguing over crumbs while a boot is hovering above them."

He began to rummage through the lab’s high-grade storage, tossing aside expensive synthetic drugs. He was looking for something specific. Cinnabar. Sulfur. Phosphorus. And a rare, crystallized form of mineral salt used in high-end laser cooling.

"What are you looking for now?" Valerie asked, moving to assist him despite herself.

"Payment," Han Chen grunted. "My body is a sinking ship, Valerie. The technique I used to walk again is eating my life-force. If I don't refine a basic *Vitality Pill* within the next hour, you’ll be hauling a very talented corpse out of here."

He found a small crucible and a portable Bunsen burner. In this world, he didn't have a mystical cauldron, but the laws of alchemy were universal. Matter was matter. It just needed a soul to guide the transformation.

He began to mix the powders with a precision that was hypnotic to watch. His hands, though shaking, never spilled a grain. He ignited the burner, the blue flame reflecting in his golden eyes.

"Tell me about Richard," Han Chen said, his voice dropping into a conversational tone that felt out of place amidst the distant screams in the hallway. "Why is a man of his stature so desperate to kill a 'trash soldier' like me?"

Valerie leaned against the sealed door, her eyes fixed on the hallway monitors. "It’s not just about you, Han Chen. It’s about what you represent. You were a strategic prodigy. You found a flaw in the Arkas Defense Grid that no one else saw. Richard’s family... they own the companies that built that grid. If your report had gone to the high command, they would have lost billions in contracts."

Han Chen chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. "So, I was crippled for a profit margin. How wonderfully mundane."

"Richard is a shark," she continued. "He’s been funding the Proyek X in secret, trying to create the perfect soldier to sell to the highest bidder. When he heard you were still alive, and that you were... changing, he panicked. He can't afford any loose ends."

*CRACK.*

A sharp sound came from the crucible. A sweet, metallic aroma began to fill the lab, masking the smell of death. Han Chen used a glass rod to pull out a single, pearl-sized bead of glowing red substance. It looked like a drop of liquid ruby.

He swallowed it without hesitation.

For a moment, he went perfectly still. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his skin turned a frightening shade of crimson. Valerie rushed forward, thinking he was seizing, but a wave of heat pushed her back.

It was like standing next to a furnace.

Han Chen’s breath hitched, then smoothed out. The gray pallor of his skin evaporated, replaced by a healthy, vibrant glow. He stood up, and this time, there was no wobble. His legs felt solid, his spine straight. The 'trash' was gone; the Sovereign was beginning to wake up.

"Better," he whispered, clenching his fist. The air around his hand distorted slightly. "Much better."

Suddenly, the lab’s monitors flickered to life. A face appeared on the screen—a man in his late sixties, with sharp, vulpine features and hair as white as bone. He was sitting in a plush leather chair, a glass of dark wine in his hand.

"Richard, I presume?" Han Chen said, stepping in front of the camera.

"Han Chen," the man on the screen replied, his voice a smooth, cultured purr. "I must admit, you’ve exceeded my expectations. I sent my pets to fetch a cripple, and instead, they found a magician. Tell me, what did you give those men? A new strain of mutagen? A chemical cocktail?"

"I gave them a future," Han Chen said, his voice cold. "Something you’re about to lose."

Richard laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Arrogance is a common trait in the young. You’ve cleared one floor of a hospital. Congratulations. But do you really think you can challenge the backbone of Arkas City? I have the police, the military, and the Council in my pocket. By tomorrow morning, you’ll be branded a domestic terrorist. Every gun in this city will be pointed at your head."

"Then I’ll have to make sure I have enough hands to catch all those bullets," Han Chen replied.

He reached out and tapped the screen, right where Richard’s throat was. "Look at the man standing behind you, Richard. The one in the shadows. Ask him if he can feel the cold in the air."

Richard’s eyes flickered with a brief moment of confusion. He turned his head, looking at his empty study. "There is no one—"

*SHATTER.*

The screen went black as Han Chen crushed the monitor with a single punch.

"Valerie," Han Chen said, turning to the Captain. "Your Jenderal Arlan is awake. He owes me a debt. Tell him I’m coming to collect. And tell Tigor to bring the transport around. We’re going to Richard’s estate."

Valerie stared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. "You’re going to attack a Konglomerat’s estate? With ten men? That’s suicide!"

Han Chen walked toward the door, his gait smooth and terrifyingly confident.

"It’s only suicide if you can be killed," he said, looking over his shoulder. "And as of tonight, I’ve decided that death is no longer a luxury I can afford."

He stepped out into the hallway, where Tigor was waiting, his zirah covered in the blood of his enemies, holding a severed mechanical head of a combat droid.

"The floor is clear, Tuan," Tigor reported, kneeling.

"Good," Han Chen said. "Let’s go see if Richard’s wine is as good as his ego."