Street Cultivation 3

by Sarah Lin

  Raggest was not actually much fun, just cheering anyone who succeeded and booing those who failed. Katenka proved more interesting, remaining manifest beside him and occasionally commenting on the specific demons. He quickly learned that while she hadn't been to the Nokan Empire before, she had some exposure to their customs in the demon realm.

  Here, there was no "Siberia" and "Burning Snow" - it was the Nokan Empire on both sides. Apparently they considered demonic fusion to be a clumsy foreign concept, though Katenka argued it was better suited to the modern world. It might have been an interesting conversation, if not for the next fighter.

  It was a young Nokan man struggling against a massive demon with six arms, all of them sending bursts of aura fire cascading around him. The other humans had fallen earlier in the fight, which Rick had a feeling was like the "Slayer" matches: it was bloodsport for the audience, watching a superior opponent curbstomp weaker enemies.

  Yet his last opponent struggled on, despite the blood sliding down the side of his head. His portfolio wasn't anything special, but he had a speed Lucore that he'd clearly spent a lot of time on. Against his opponent's strategy of blanketing the field with aura flames, it let him keep dodging while his opponent wasted more and more energy.

  Not enough. An aura flame eventually caught the young man in the chest and sent him crumpling against the arena wall. Most cheered the triumphant demon, while Rick watched to make sure that healers attended the young man. A few did, but he doubted they would heal everything.

  Meanwhile, Raggest sat back with a look of disgust. "A failure. I really thought he was going to pull that off, the way he was dodging. Leap in there and punch the demon through the face!"

  "He couldn't have done that," Rick said. "The demon had shrugged off stronger blows and he didn't have a good offensive Lucore."

  "That's his fault, isn't it?"

  Rick frowned over at the other man. "Seriously? Look at his clothes: do you think he's swimming in lucrim? I would have thought that you'd have admired him, enduring that long even when he knew he couldn't win. He was getting faster during the fight, too, learning from it."

  "Yeah, and then he folded after taking just a few hits." Raggest shook his head. "I'd have been impressed if he won, sure. But that one just danced around and then got the shit kicked out of him. I would have blasted the demon straight to hell. You probably could have walked straight into all those flames and not even flinched."

  "Probably, but he didn't have our advantages."

  "Huh?" Raggest turned to look at him, baffled. "Come on, Rick, are you going to spout this kind of bullshit at me? Everything we have, we earned. If he didn't work as hard as we have, that's his fault."

  Sitting in a packed arena, Rick sat completely alone. He just stared at Raggest, searching for anything other than earnestness in the other man's expression. That Nokan man could have been Rick, several years ago, struggling to make his one strength into a career. The only difference between them...

  "Raggest, that's not fair." He was angrier than he expected, but couldn't hold back. "You've had Alger giving you valuable supplements, pills, and elixirs for years. He's given you world class techniques and constant guidance. You can't compare y-"

  "What, you think I haven't earned this?" Raggest turned on him, more baffled than angry. "I've worked hard every day, harder than anyone else. And you don't have any room to talk. Your mentor has been feeding you constant Formula T, giving you that awesome golden technique, and paying for body reforging. You think that you didn't earn all that?"

  All at once, Rick realized that he hadn't.

  Yes, he'd been working hard for months, and yes, he'd struggled to earn each step. But he imagined that Mike and every other asshole Birthrighter thought that they earned what they had as well. Rick might not have been the same as them, yet the thought tore into him, forcing him to reconsider everything...

  He didn't want to believe it, but Granny Whitney's words returned heavier than before. Worse than that, he started looking at all his own experiences in the Showdown under a new light. Not wanting to accept the conclusion, Rick decided to charge straight into it.

  "How did you meet Alger?" he asked quietly. Raggest blinked at him in surprise.

  "What, are you saying that I didn't earn that? You think he picked me like I won a lucrim lottery? I had to prove myself to him. Everyone else failed to reach his home through all the traps, but I followed the dreams and fought m-"

  "What did you say?" Rick had grabbed the front of Raggest's shirt without even realizing it. The younger man immediately bashed away his hands and glared at him.

  "Dreams of destiny, man. I know some people don't believe in them, but I thought you might know about this. Alger says that those who are destined for more than a boring life have lucrim dreams of what they will become."

  "And what did you dream?"

  "Myself as a powerful warrior, mostly. But I dreamed the path to Alger's house and I had the courage to follow it!"

  Rick slowly took a step back and his leg nearly collapsed. The words might as well have been a physical blow, and the realizations he'd been holding off crashed into him in an assault he couldn't hold back.

  What had led him to the Showdown was the inexplicable dream of a dangerous opponent. From there, Alger had made a clumsy attempt to recruit him... only to drive him directly into the hands of H. His mentor had given him everything, funneling him onto a path where he was completely controlled. In the Showdown, there was only one path upward, and that was Alger's path.

  Though most of Rick was absolutely certain that it was true, he didn't want to accept such a conclusion without more evidence. Somehow he was still moving instead of collapsing under the weight of it. He patted Raggest on the shoulder and gave him an apologetic smile.

  "Sorry, man, I've just had a lot on my mind lately. Plus, I think I lost track of time and didn't get any Formula T when I should have."

  "Oh, that's not good at all." Raggest smiled as if the argument was entirely forgotten. "I'd give you some of mine, but I think my version is different."

  "You drink Formula T too? Can I see?"

  "I mean, I'm not actually sure what mine is called. Alger just gives it to me to help me get stronger." Raggest cooperatively bent down to his pack and pulled out the thermos. "I really don't think you should take too much, but if you want to try, why not? Might be a fun challenge."

  Hands trembling slightly, Rick unscrewed the thermos lid and stared down at the golden liquid within. It looked almost exactly the same. He hesitantly took a sip and immediately felt the surge of power rush through him. Yes, it was Formula T. What Raggest was taking was more concentrated, but he couldn't doubt it was the same thing, and in turn he couldn't doubt his full conclusions.

  "You're right, I shouldn't take yours." Rick handed it back, trying and failing to smile. "Listen, I need to run back and get mine. But thanks for taking me to the arena."

  "Oh, sure thing. I was hoping we could both fight, but we'll get it figured out later." With that, Raggest turned away from him, focusing on nothing but the fights.

  Rick walked out of the arena completely numb. As he stepped onto the street, the spiritually oily sensation vanished, but he still felt coated in the realizations. He'd been a fool for a long time, walking the path set before him and addicting himself. The only difference between him and a power addict was that he had backers who kept feeding him lucrim.

  But they could withdraw it at any time.

  That was what troubled him most. He could try to convince himself that even if Alger was using him, he was using Alger in return, but that wasn't really true. Alger had him entirely in his power, and when the time came, he could use his leverage to make Rick do whatever he wanted. Or more likely, play the villain and have H send him to do what Alger really wanted.

  If Rick had been alone, he wasn't sure what he would have done. But Katenka had been hovering silently behind him during the entire conversation and she hadn't faded even wh
en he left the arena. He turned and stared at her, almost too dazed to focus.

  "I'm an idiot. You put it together too, didn't you? He's been manipulating me from the beginning."

  "I haven't heard of anyone who can directly manipulate dreams," Katenka said softly. "But I don't think it's theoretically impossible. And which is more likely: that someone learned how to create dreams, or that prophetic dreams of the future exist?"

  "Right. I've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought Raggest was oblivious, but I'm just as much of an idiot." Rick sat down on the curb and dropped his head into his hands. Yet before he could curl into misery, Katenka continued speaking.

  "That isn't true, and I'm proof of that."

  "...what do you mean?"

  "One thing I can promise you is that I'm not part of this manipulation. I don't know what demonic contract H had prepared for you, but I'm sure that it would have put you further under his control. And you told me that he wanted you to use something called a Midas Foundation... imagine if your entire portfolio was built around power he controlled."

  "That's..." Rick wanted to snap back on instinct, but forced himself to think. "Maybe you're right. But I have to assume that Lisa was right and I'm addicted to Formula T. Even if I could escape it, I couldn't compete in the Showdown without it."

  "Do you want to?" Katenka watched him thoughtfully. "I can't answer that question for you, Rick. But you helped me escape Siberia. I'll support you as well as I can, whatever you decide."

  It was a surprisingly good question. Rick sat back and stared at the sky for a while, his mind sliding around the thought instead of fully addressing it. The Showdown had never been his dream, it had been something that he'd stumbled into because it seemed like the best option. Just like fighting in the Underground or working for the Global Lucrim Authority. Alger might have unnatural abilities, but he wasn't a god. Rick made it easy to manipulate him because of how he plunged blindly toward his goals, just like Raggest.

  Once he thought about it that way, the problem wasn't so impossible. Rick rubbed his eyes until he could see clearly, then stood up. It was time to make some calls.

  Chapter 45: Dependents

  Melissa paced back and forth across the floor of her room. It should have made her feel like her brother, scowling about something, but instead there was only formless uncertainty and discontent. Her research and other projects lay half-finished on her desk, abandoned as she became restless again.

  Rick had messaged her to say that he was coming due to "the family emergency". That was obviously a lie, though Melissa had checked with Uncle Frank just in case. The thing was, he said it in a way they had a long time ago, when their parents had been drunk or high and caused problems. She knew that her brother had shielded her from much of it, but there had been times when he hadn't been able to pick her up because he was bailing their parents out of jail.

  So what did he mean this time? There was something off about his text, like he thought that someone else might be reading it. If that was true, then it was a secret message. She worried that she might need to do something, but the way he said he was coming to her suggested that she should stay put. Unless the message was even more deeply embedded?

  Accepting that there was nothing she could do for now, Melissa forced herself to stop pacing, sit down, and breathe. Unfortunately, when she stopped moving, that left her alone with her thoughts.

  Months since the incident, she still occasionally awoke from a nightmare of the demon torturing her. But it wasn't the pain that crept under her skin and left her feeling disgusted. It was the way she had been helpless, treated as nothing but an asset to be exploited. She had tried to explain all the exact reasons, but the closest she had ever gotten was with her brother.

  Now that she was back in the YLAA, she felt both separated from those experiences and unable to escape them. The young, rich, and successful people all around her didn't seem to deal with trauma, they just went on their merry ways. Melissa had thrown herself into her studies with such ferocity that several people had asked her if something was wrong, but she didn't see what else she could do.

  The problem at the core of it was that she didn't think there was any real solution. It wasn't as if she could become so powerful that no one could ever hurt her: even the strongest people in the world still had peers, and anyone could threaten people she cared about. In fact, some of the strongest YLAA fighters struck her as paranoid, desperately needing to prove themselves strong in a way that meant they would never be happy.

  So it was all in her head. That didn't help at all when her head insisted she had a cold knot in the pit of her stomach.

  All she could do was try to keep her wild swinging between anger and pain under control, and keep herself productive the entire time. She still had several months as a Young Lucrim Artist of America and she intended to use them to their fullest. After that, in theory the world would be open to her.

  By the time it was over, she doubted that she would feel completely comfortable with herself again. But she hoped that by then, she would know exactly where she wanted to go next. There were plenty of positions related to medical research, or even advocacy groups regarding unusual aura conditions. The issue was putting aside everything else to really focus on herself.

  When there was a knock on the door, she stopped focusing on herself and leapt up to get it. Most likely it was just another YLAA member, but it might be...

  Rick stood on the other side, shivering with his shoulders hunched. Melissa instantly knew that something was deeply wrong and moved to help support him, but when she touched his arm, it didn't seem like he was going to collapse. The muscles of his arm were flexing strangely and it actually seemed like he had too much energy, like he couldn't keep it contained.

  "I need your help this time, sis." He stumbled forward, shuddering violently.

  Quickly helping him inside, taking his pack, and getting him seated, Melissa locked the door and then turned back to him. He sat on the edge of her bed, still trembling, his eyes unfocused. She didn't think he was cold, but she lifted up the blanket to wrap around him and then sat beside him as he had done for her.

  "I'm here, Rick, I'm here," she said soothingly. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Are you the family emergency?"

  "That was... an excuse to put H on the wrong track. To buy time." Rick began scratching at his arms, then stopped the motion only with obvious effort. "I left. It's crazy, but I had to leave. I stopped taking the Formula T just one time and it was bad. And just keeps getting worse. It hasn't even been 24 hours and I'm already... already..."

  "Slow down, Rick. Tell me what's going on."

  He eventually explained, his words slowly coming together more as he focused on the conversation. Though it seemed a bit crazy, Melissa didn't doubt him for a second. Whatever he intended to do, she knew that she'd support him, but she was unclear on just what he was up to. When he finally trailed off into uncertainty, she spoke up.

  "So what now? Did you quit the Showdown?"

  "No. Can't." He shook his head violently and Melissa gently rubbed his shoulder.

  "Why not? Alger may have been manipulating you, but he didn't get you contractually obligated to fight in the whole Showdown. They can cut off your funding but they can't repossess what they've already given you, right? All you need to do is quit, like a normal job."

  "The fight for the immortals... that isn't normal... I need to at least show up." Rick took a deep breath and became a little more stable. "But Alger will be there and might notice... and I'm worried that H will try to do something. Not sure what."

  "Well, whatever happens, you're planning on getting clean first, right? You didn't bring any Formula T with you?"

  "I... I did. Haven't taken it, but Lisa might want to see... not sure. You should probably... take it away. And can I have some water?"

  Melissa immediately hopped up to get him a glass. She also took his pack and locked it away in the personal safe that came with her ro
om. Rick didn't know the combination, so he couldn't be tempted to take more Formula T. If he begged her for it, as their parents sometimes had, that would be agonizing, but she would stay strong to help him get through the withdrawal.

  The first thing they tried was having her manifest her void through him, the way they had improved his foundation. Melissa hadn't really expected that she could burn away the addiction, but she'd still hoped. Neither of them was surprised when it didn't work. He'd been taking an incredibly potent drug for months and his body couldn't just magically get over that, even with an ether void.

  Actually, his foundation and all his Lucores felt strange, like they'd been dismantled. That couldn't possibly have happened just because he went off the Formula T, but Rick was getting less coherent and so she couldn't ask him. It didn't feel like his portfolio was collapsing, just definitely messed up. The Dark Blood Kettle was everywhere, but she thought it was trying to help.

  Her brother was starting to sweat more, so Melissa helped him get his shirt off and put him to bed. He fell into a restless sleep and there was nothing more she could do for him. At least not directly.

  Though he'd come to her in bad shape, her brother hadn't plunged into this completely unprepared. It hadn't been completely coherent, but he'd suggested that he'd called the Peakless Wildlife Refuge and others to try to get what help he could. And the public library, for some reason he hadn't properly explained. So he had a plan to survive the withdrawal, he just needed her help.

  For a start, Melissa decided to call Lisa. They tried not to talk about Rick, but this was obviously an exception. The other woman picked up on the second ring. "Melissa? Is everything okay?"

  "Wait, what? I haven't said anything yet!"

  "No, it's because of the message Rick sent me." Lisa sounded nervous. "Do you know where he is? He said that he needed my help about the Formula T, but there was so little information, I was worried th-"

  "He's here, with me." Melissa was surprised that her brother had contacted Lisa, but supposed that she shouldn't have been. That made things easier. "You're in Branton, right? Wait, no, you moved. Do I need to come to you, or can you come here? Because we can afford a flight, but... he's going into withdrawal, I think. His life isn't in danger, but it's bad."