0061 The Vestigial Tail (Part One)

“So... so amazing!” Wu Fang gazed in awe at the two Joker cards—one red, one black—pinned to the tree trunk by the throwing knives.

She hadn’t expected that Chen Jue’s skill with throwing knives would be this extraordinary!

To Wu Fang, consecutive throws with throwing knives weren’t particularly difficult; most people with some practice could manage that easily. Even hitting moving targets wasn’t especially hard, once you’d practiced enough and honed your skills. The real challenge was that, after a series of throws, he could still pinpoint those two Jokers among the flurry of falling playing cards with such precision.

Consider: once all the cards are thrown into the air, they only remain aloft for four or five seconds before falling. With fifty-four cards in a deck, the probability of randomly drawing two Jokers in succession is already as low as 0.34%. To locate both Jokers among so many cards while they’re still in midair—before they hit the ground—was a feat whose odds defied calculation.

It was absurdity on top of absurdity, absurd beyond belief!

Of course, to prove to the camera that the cards hadn’t been tampered with, Chen Jue made a point of pulling both Jokers from the knife blades, tearing them into pieces right in front of the lens, and displaying the fragments.

Even Chen Jue hadn’t expected the video to go so smoothly, capturing the entire act in a single shot.

“Could it be that having a girl nearby gave me a buff?” he mused inwardly, then removed his face mask and smiled gently at the still-stunned Wu Fang. “Well? Would you say what I just did counts as a unique skill?”

“It counts! And it’s a very impressive skill! With so many cards flying through the air, I could barely keep track just with my eyes—how did you manage it?” Wu Fang nodded, her curiosity piqued.

“Well… I suppose I relied on instinct.”

Chen Jue was caught off guard by her question, and as he recalled the improbable card-throwing sequence, he realized that his ability to quickly spot the Jokers owed not only to his recent nighttime excursions to the garbage station, which had honed his dynamic vision, but also to his day job.

As someone in financial risk control, he wasn’t just responsible for scrutinizing clients’ basic data; he also had to sift through heaps of bank records to spot potential risks. For instance, he’d look for unusual transactions and frequent deposits or spending, using those patterns to judge if a client was gambling, gaming with large sums, or tipping streamers excessively, in order to weed out problematic consumption habits and eliminate deeper risks.

Bank records were voluminous and densely packed; a six-month or year-long record could contain tens of thousands of entries. Spotting risk points in just a few glances was a real test of a risk control specialist’s visual acuity and analytical skills.

It was much like the veteran cheaters in Hong Kong gambling films, who had to master card-switching and reading techniques beyond the eye’s reach, as well as possess sharp minds for memorizing and calculating cards.

This was a fusion of visual capture and rapid mental computation, combined with swift physical responses—a unique operating logic. Only by integrating several master-level skills could one hope to achieve such extraordinary results.

Calling it a “unique skill” was no exaggeration!

“Instinct?” Wu Fang’s expression softened with understanding. She often practiced rope dart with her grandfather, and knew that hitting the target after throwing the dart depended not only on aiming in advance but often on the feel and sense of distance. When that intuition struck, accuracy shot up.

Yet this kind of sensation was hard to explain to outsiders; only those who’d practiced long enough could grasp it.

So after hearing Chen Jue’s vague explanation, Wu Fang didn’t seem particularly surprised—instead, she looked thoughtful and serious, a touch of intellect shining through her solemn expression. Chen Jue’s heart skipped a beat, as if he’d been shot right through the chest.

“Ms. Wu! You’re the real deal!”

…

After finishing the skill video together, the two checked the footage they’d just recorded.

The cinematic visuals left Chen Jue astonished—no wonder, he thought, girls really dominated him in filming skills. Comparing his rough style to hers, she was leagues ahead.

He quickly edited the clip using a phone app, titled it “Unique Skill: King Bomb,” and uploaded it to the platform. With the props packed away, he sat on the lawn and chatted with Wu Fang.

Learning that she often spent her weekends reading and preparing lessons at the park, Chen Jue was struck by inspiration. His interactions with Ms. Wu had been far too few—he didn’t know her well yet. If, in the future, he could use opportunities like today’s video shoot to spend more time with her, perhaps their relationship could progress. Without hesitation, he invited Wu Fang to be his regular assistant.

Wu Fang initially hesitated, then smiled and agreed. Over time, she had grown quite curious about Chen Jue—not just about his identity, but also about how he’d developed such extraordinary skill. She’d trained with her grandfather since childhood, practiced rope dart, and had decent talent, but she could never achieve the level of flair Chen Jue displayed with throwing knives.

Besides, weekends were boring, and watching Chen Jue perform live was far more delightful than any video online, so she easily agreed to this small request. After all, it was just filming—setting up a tripod, adjusting filters, finding angles—not strenuous at all, just a simple favor.

Moreover, Chen Jue had previously accepted her cousin’s invitation, so she considered it a fair exchange.

…

After chatting with Wu Fang for a while, Chen Jue packed up and returned to his apartment.

He knew there would be plenty of chances for solitude in the future, so he didn’t want to disturb Ms. Wu as she studied.

Back at the apartment, he wiped off the sweat from exercising and turned on his computer to research information about the coccyx.

After about an hour of reviewing various articles and video explanations, Chen Jue had a general grasp of the coccyx’s function.

The coccyx is a unique bone at the very end of the human spine, usually composed of three to five fused, degenerated vertebrae. According to modern scientific analysis and hypotheses, it’s the remnant of a tail that human ancestors evolved away over countless ages.

“The coccyx is actually the degenerated tail bone?” Chen Jue muttered as he read, recalling the tabby cat from his childhood in the countryside.

Whenever the cat was startled, it would tuck its tail tightly and its fur would stand on end—just like when he practiced stance training and contracted the coccyx, triggering goosebumps across his skin.

Modern medical studies show that, due to environmental and hereditary factors, each person’s coccyx varies in shape—not just in the number of vertebrae, but also in size.

On the surface, the coccyx seems insignificant, but in reality it’s full of hidden significance. Aside from connecting to the gluteus maximus, it also hosts the body’s only “singular nerve ganglion,” acting as the relay station for signals in the perineal region.

What is the “perineum”?

According to traditional Chinese medicine, the perineum is an important acupoint on the body’s Ren meridian, aligned in a straight line with the “Hundred Convergences” point atop the head. The “Hundred Convergences” is the ultimate Yang acupoint, while the perineum is the ultimate Yin acupoint.

This acupoint is linked to basic bodily functions like defecation and urination.

When Chen Jue practiced stance training and contraction, he heightened the coccyx’s neural sensitivity.

The reason this practice triggered goosebumps was because the brain’s central nervous system released bioelectric signals, making the body mistake the action for impending defecation or urination.

Both of these functions cause heat loss in the body (urine and feces, stored in the bladder or intestines, are close to body temperature; their expulsion results in heat loss), prompting the central nervous system to send incorrect temperature change signals, leading to contraction of the piloerector muscles and the appearance of goosebumps.

Though the logic behind this process seemed simple, Chen Jue felt dizzy just reading all the unfamiliar medical and anatomical knowledge.

He lamented his lack of erudition.

Having shirked diligent study in his youth, he now, at nearly thirty, had to work hard for his own health, relying on his system and these seemingly useless bits of knowledge from the internet to peer into the mysteries of the human body.

…

It was already noon by the time he finished his research. After eating, Chen Jue planned to take a nap.

Weekends were meant for relaxation, and with his left hand not yet recovered, he decided to properly adjust his physical state to improve his attributes more effectively.

As usual, he took two fish oil capsules. Unexpectedly, his system issued a prompt:

——————

[Ding~]

[Prolonged intake of steroid substances rich in vitamins A and D has slightly improved your vision and marginally promoted bone growth.]

[Physical attribute +0.01]

——————

“Great!”

“The fish oil was worth every penny!” Chen Jue was delighted.

This was his first attribute gain through dietary supplementation—a small but successful step forward.

To further improve his vision, he’d increased his fish oil dosage from one capsule per day to two. After just a few days, the effects were already showing.

He guessed his recent rapid improvement in vision was due not only to red light therapy and eye exercises, but also to the fish oil supplement.