Street Cultivation 3

by Sarah Lin

  Without warning, Raggest appeared beside James, punching him in the face. Though the suited man recovered, he wasn't able to dodge the beam of gold that sent him sailing away. Rick wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and tried to straighten.

  "Thanks, Raggest."

  "It wasn't for you. Just wanted to hit that asshole." Raggest grinned at him, aura gathering around his hands. "Get up and I'll hit you too."

  An idea leapt into Rick's mind, not fully formed but enough. He met Raggest's eyes and straightened up, then jumped into the air as if to hit him.

  A beam of light met him in midair, of course, blasting him backward. But all of Rick's strength had been focused on his defenses, not attacking. The beam sent him shooting up the side of the pyramid, smashing through one of the other contestants and then colliding with the man who held the top. Rick barely managed to catch one of the corners, which felt like it would tear off his arm, but then he pulled himself up.

  The surprise move had, insanely, gotten him to the top of the pyramid. His chest hurt like hell, with a large hole burned through his shirt and a massive burn across his chest. He didn't want to look down to see how bad it was, but even the brief moment of Raggest's technique had done serious damage to his defensive core.

  But he'd reached the top. He'd held it for a full second... which meant that now all eyes were on him.

  Rick knew that he couldn't possibly see and react to attackers. Simply assuming that they were coming for him, he used a Bunyan's Step to shoot him directly into the air. Several bursts of aura collided where he had been standing, followed shortly by physical attackers. For a surreal moment Rick was suspended high over the pyramid, with a clear view of everyone struggling for the top.

  Then he used another Bunyan's Step to shoot himself directly down.

  He slammed into the top with all the force he could muster. The impact hurt, but the nearest attackers were knocked back. Did that count as controlling the top? There was no time to check, he already had more people coming at him.

  When Rick saw a woman spinning at him with a sword in each hand, he simply hurled himself at her in another Bunyan's Step. He felt the blades bite into his body twice, but he collided with her and sent her sprawling down the side. Landing just beside the top, he backstepped just in time for a large man to tackle him from the side.

  Rick staggered, but managed not to fall from the peak. He hit back, not even seeing his attacker, just operating on pure instinct. Everything dissolved into chaotic reactions and then somehow he was still standing at the top, panting for breath.

  Then he was sailing through the air.

  Whatever had struck him, it hadn't hurt, but he hadn't even seen it. Rick collided with the reinforced roofs and that hurt like hell. His defensive core could protect him a bit, but smashing into ether-reinforced tiles was still painful. He felt surprisingly drained, having poured as much as he could into those few moments atop the pyramid.

  Had it been enough? Rick wanted to look to H, but he was disoriented and couldn't find his seat. According to the screen, he had credit for 4.62 seconds at the top of the pyramid. That wasn't the top, but it was better than many of the contestants. Was that enough to rate?

  Robes fluttered as someone landed beside him, and Rick looked up in time to see the elderly Chinese woman who had given him a seal in Branton. She was watching him coolly until he looked up, which prompted her to smile.

  "You're an interesting one, to fight with such odd handicaps. We would... like to extend you an invitation."

  Chapter 20: Meeting an Immortal

  With the day's events finished, Rick finally received proper medical care. As before, the healers were extremely professional, but he could barely focus on them. Not only had all the blows left his defensive core overloaded, he was still trying to work through the meaning of what had actually happened.

  His performance in the first event had clearly been disappointing, while the second had been at least better than anyone expected. Then he'd received an invitation from a sect he still didn't understand. And why had James gone after him so aggressively? With absolutely no way to resolve any of those mysteries, Rick tried to focus on recovery.

  The biggest problem was his overall exhaustion and everything his defensive core needed to absorb, but he was surprised how much his chest hurt. Not just the visible burn that had been healed, but there was a sharp pain through his entire chest, as if the beam had actually ripped straight through him. Whatever Raggest's technique was, it was certainly powerful. If Rick had been a little weaker, or it had been a fully serious blast, he might be dead.

  "You got lucky." H appeared beside him, announcing the good news as if it was a disaster. "It sounds as though the immortals have conversed and you're in. On top of that, all of you will be attending a special private event."

  "Is that the fight?" Rick tried to sit up and immediately groaned as his body refused. "The bet between them is still on, right?"

  "I don't know the details. What I do know is that you'll have a chance to meet your sponsor and more importantly the contestants you'll eventually be fighting."

  "Then... I'm still in. Part of the Showdown."

  "For now." H folded his arms and glowered, but there was a hint of something else. "You could have done worse out there. Stupid to let a hit propel you to the top, but it worked. At minimum, my boss won't harass me for a while."

  "So, what now?"

  "We're not going to bother with other Showdown events. So first you focus on recovering completely. This little party they're throwing is in two days, which should be just enough. I'll keep you from ruining yourself and get you something better to wear. Come on, back to the hotel."

  Rick forced himself to move through the pain, forcibly reminding his body that it wasn't really injured. It was still rough getting to the taxi and eventually back to his room. When H finally left him, Rick barely had the presence of mind to check that the door was locked before he fell into bed and slept.

  In the morning, he was woken up by the sound of the entire hotel collapsing on itself, though it turned out to be just H knocking on his door. Rubbing his aching head, Rick shuffled to answer. The older man looked as though he'd had no need for sleep and just stared at him.

  "You have the next two days to get back into shape. There shouldn't be fighting at this party, but... you never can tell."

  "Sure." Rick rubbed at his face, which seemed to be covered in sand. "Uh, do I get any Formula T to help me recover?"

  "Not like before." H pulled a small case from his coat and handed it to him. Rick fumbled it open and discovered a series of golden vials... surprisingly small vials. "It's best for your development to continue taking it every eight hours, but after your recovery yesterday, you risk forming an addiction."

  "So... one of these each time?"

  "That's right. It won't be comfortable, but it will teach you to make do with less. There is one, and only one, extra vial in the set. I suggest you try not to use it, but having you in good condition is more important. If you start running into problems, cheating once shouldn't hurt you. Assuming your defensive core can handle it."

  "Got it." Rick might have said goodbye or might have forgotten, he honestly wasn't sure. It was hard enough to remember to lock his door. He did realize just how much he wanted the Formula T, however, and quickly downed the vial.

  The next two days were a blur. He spent a long time sleeping, waking up without any sense of time and always surprised at the clock by the bed. Every time eight hours had passed, he took another vial, though they felt painfully far between.

  When he was awake, he did his best to train again. Hairline fractures had formed in his defensive core and the Triune Golden Spheres, requiring repair that took a lot out of him. Usually by the time he did the maximum amount of training that would be beneficial, he was so exhausted he just wanted to sleep again. Only the Dark Blood Kettle purred along, adapting to everything he had experienced. Perhaps not as dramatically powerfu
l as the best techniques, but he appreciated how it endlessly worked in the background.

  Occasionally when he had no training to do and he didn't feel hungry or thirsty, he just lay and thought about the previous fights. There were certainly strategic mistakes he'd made, but the biggest problem was simply lack of power. He could even understand why H was angry that he hadn't taken a demonic bond, if all his competitors had one.

  But if he was able to hang on long enough, it could work. His defensive core was a little stronger with each round he endured, plus once he had more time he could complete the Triune Golden Spheres. If he was lucky, Bftgage and Ythsil might even be able to help him out more than in the past. All of that required him to stay alive through this upcoming party.

  By the time the morning arrived, Rick felt mostly human again. He showered and shaved, then actually ate the hotel breakfast for once instead of nutrient bars. By the time he returned, he found H waiting for him impatiently, holding a set of pressed combat robes.

  "It's formal dress," H said, tossing the hanger at him. "I see you've cleaned up. Be on good behavior."

  Rick smiled. "Does that mean you'll be in formal dress too?"

  "Don't be absurd. Get changed and let's go."

  It didn't take long. The robes were clearly expensive, but just as clearly uncomfortable. Rick thought he could fight in it, but he didn't like how it restricted his movement compared to combat suits. Dress robes weren't generally used for combat, of course, but H had implied that a fight might break out. If so, he was going to struggle not to trip over his own clothes.

  Still, when he looked in the mirror, he thought he looked decent. Obviously an American in Chinese robes, but they were expecting that. Rick had a bad feeling that tonight would be one of those times when networking might mean more than actual ability, so he needed everything to come together. When he came back out, H gestured sharply for him to follow.

  On their way down, however, he spoke in a low voice. "There are a... few things we need to talk over. For one, there's a reason I haven't introduced you to your sponsor yet. He generally likes not to get involved, and honestly, I much prefer it that way."

  "Is this going to be a problem?" Rick asked. He'd never seen an immortal before, except on TV. Even then, those who weren't leaders of some kind tended to stay out of the limelight.

  "You just need to keep a few things in mind. Your sponsor's name is Josiah Craw, and he's been immortal for over a century. He isn't strong in terms of skill, but he's richer than sin and he doesn't really interact with other immortals except for these bets. That means that for a hundred years, no one has really said 'no' to him."

  Though Rick hadn't thought about it in those terms, he thought it made sense that immortals might be a bit eccentric. The way H talked about it left him a bit nervous, but... "Is that all? You're not going to give me tips?"

  "Just be polite. A lot politer than you would be normally. Don't use any slang, curses, or insults. Act like you're talking to your grandfather, but if your grandfather could kill you."

  "He, uh, he wouldn't really, right?"

  "Probably not, but he could. More importantly, he could fire you. He wants both of us to participate in this bet against the other immortals, but he might stop caring if he gets annoyed enough. Just stay polite and follow my lead."

  They left the hotel by a different route than before, a back entrance leading to a taxi which took them to a forest outside Odiyu. Once they arrived at an apparently empty field, H gestured for them to wait. They appeared to be only a few minutes early, because soon enough something arrived. Rick thought it was a floating lantern at first, but as it drifted down toward them, he realized that it was quite large.

  As he drew closer, he realized that the blue sphere was larger than most cars. At the center, instead of a candle, there burned a sapphire flame supported by nothing. He wasn't sure how it flew, other than that it appeared to be entirely based on aura. There was a ring-like platform underneath the main lantern that he guessed was a seating area, though he couldn't tell who was inside until it reached the ground.

  Though he'd known it would be their hosts, he'd expected the immortal to be along with them. Instead it was merely a young Chinese woman, who bowed to both of them and spoke in crystal clear English. "Has your sponsor not yet arrived?"

  "I gave him this location," H said. "Hopefully he will arrive soon."

  "Then we will wait." The woman sat back down in the passenger area, which appeared more comfortable than he expected. Though she gestured for them to sit as well, H only shook his head and Rick was too restless. He wandered around the side of the lantern, admiring it as an object of beauty, even if he couldn't quite figure out how it flew. Something to do with manipulating gravity, maybe.

  Usually Rick thought of himself as reasonably patient, but he was the first one to start to crack. The woman sat as if utterly content to wait, while H just began to smoke as sourly as usual. Just when Rick was about to break the silence with a question, he heard a strange growling sound.

  No, it was an engine. It grew louder so quickly that he quickly located it: a strange contraption was screeching over the trees. Without warning it turned sharply and smashed down into the ground, snapping a nearby tree.

  Rick stared at it, because he actually knew what it was: an old Model T car. The fact that it could fly meant that it was clearly powered by lucrim, but as far as he knew, they didn't have effective lucrim-based cars back then. This one had to have been retrofitted, though he couldn't have said why.

  The man who stepped out of the car also looked as though he'd stepped from the past. He wore shoes with large buckles, white tights, several bright blue coats with pearl buttons, and a white wig like Rick hadn't seen except in old pictures. Except unlike the clean-shaved men from that era, he also wore long sideburns that flowed into a bristling mustache.

  It would have been absurd if he didn't carry with him an aura of immense power. There was some sort of powerful Lucore, the types CEOs used to defend themselves, but beneath it lay a well of lucrim Rick couldn't begin to estimate.

  Josiah Craw smoothed down his coats, looked about him, and sniffed. "I do so detest visiting the Orient. I swear that they fog the skies on purpose just to aggravate me. Horatio! Horatio, is everything ready?"

  Rick's mouth nearly dropped open as he saw his mentor irritably grind out his cigarette and step forward. H - Horatio - gave him a respectful bow with one hand to his chest. "Thank you for coming, Master Craw. Our hosts have prepared transportation especially to take you to the venue."

  "I should jolly well hope they have." Josiah stepped toward the giant lantern and harrumphed. "It will suffice. Is this young Oriental girl to be our guide?"

  "Welcome back, Immortal Craw." The young woman gave him a polite curtsy. Josiah stepped forward and took her hand, ignoring how startled she was, and planted a kiss on it.

  "Charmed, fair maiden. But would you be a dear and take us to our location post-haste? This environment does not suit me."

  "At once, Immortal Craw." She withdrew her hand as soon as she could and looked to them, just a bit of urgency in her eyes. Not wanting to prolong her discomfort, Rick hurried to step into the passenger area. H took his time... Rick was still having a hard time thinking of him by his real name.

  Once all four of them were inside, the woman threw a strip of some fabric into the flame overhead. Rick thought it was an unusual container for lucrim, but it was burned away the next moment. The flame burned brighter, yet strangely he felt no heat. For that matter, it was a massive ball of blue fire and staring into it didn't hurt his eyes even slightly. The light it cast over their seating area was actually quite pleasant.

  "So, you are the young lad I'm sponsoring, are you?" Josiah looked down his nose at Rick and frowned. "Very unusual business, very unusual indeed. Seems almost a waste of time, but a bet is a bet..."

  H leaned in and spoke quietly. "He's exceeded our expectations at every turn. Think of the money you can
make from him, and more importantly, the respect you'll earn." He spoke more deferentially than to anyone else, but Rick was surprised how casually he continued.

  "Can the boy not speak for himself? Hmm?" Josiah abruptly rose to his feet, making the platform carrying them lurch worryingly. Rick caught a glimpse of their guide hastily correcting their movements, but there was no more time for that because Josiah was thrusting a hand in his direction. "Cat got your tongue, boy?"

  "My name is Richard Hunter, sir." Rick carefully stood up and accepted the handshake. The immortal's grip was crushing, actually requiring him to use his full defensive core to prevent his bones from cracking. Josiah didn't let up, either, still gripping.

  "I hear you think yourself something of a pugilist, eh?

  "Thank you for your investment in me, sir."

  "The lad has some respect!" Josiah nodded in approval and finally let go of his hand, sitting back down. He smoothed down his mustaches and regarded Rick calmly. "Much better than most lads these days. Well, boy, I understand you have 100,000 lucrim or so. A solid start for a young man. Do you have a trade, lad?"

  "Master Craw..." H again spoke quietly, leaning forward. "At our current speed, it will not be long until we arrive. Perhaps you would like to see his portfolio?"

  "Yes! Quite! Let me see your lucrima soul, lad!" Rick obediently brought up his portfolio on his phone and handed it to the immortal. Josiah squinted at the screen and frowned. "Eh? Need I press one of these buttons?" He hit several keys at random, actually moving away from the portfolio and to the general lucrim app, prompting a sigh from H.

  "Master Craw, if you would let m-"

  "I cannot abide these newfangled contraptions!" With that, Josiah promptly threw Rick's phone over the edge.

  Rick jumped to his feet automatically, but he was much too slow to catch the phone. To his surprise, their guide smoothly leapt over the side, snagging the phone below them, and then twirled her way back up with a graceful circular aura. Though Rick wanted to thank her, Josiah and H both demanded his attention, so he remained focused.