Malware: A Cultivation Academy Series (Bastion Academy Book 2)

by J D Astra

  Tae-do looked down at the shorter boy with a malicious leer. Black zo encircled his hand. He made a fist as he bared his teeth and said, “I hope you memorized it.”

  The metal crunched in his closed fist. He grabbed the shorter boy’s hand and dropped the crushed disc into it.

  “I’ll be seeing you around, ganhan,” Tae-do said to me as he turned away. His entourage followed, except one: Shin-soo. The rival from my first year stared me down. Not with anger or the malice that Tae-do had, but something else. What was he thinking?

  “Soo-boi, c’mon!” Tae-do yelled over his shoulder, and Shin-soo grimaced, then turned away from me.

  I stepped up to the short student and said, “I might be able to fix it, if you’d like. What’s your name?”

  “Ko-nah,” the shorter boy said as he rolled the schedule over in his hand. Little blue sparks fizzled and died, then the device went dark.

  I held out my hand to receive it, and he passed it to me. I closed my eyes and inhaled, then began the cyclical breathing for ma repair. My mind’s eye traveled along the device’s highways and I assessed the damage. Tae-do had bent the case up, but the insides weren’t irrevocably broken.

  “I can fix it. I’ll need a few hours, though, so you’ll have to sit with us for lunch,” I said as I offered for Ko-nah to walk with me.

  “Do you have a room yet?” Cho asked, a welcoming grin on his face.

  Ko-nah shook his head.

  Il-sung bowed shallowly as he showed Ko-nah into the room. “You’re in luck. We have one bed left.”

  Ko-nah scowled. “Why are you being nice to me? You don’t know me.”

  I shrugged. “Would you prefer we left you alone?”

  “No,” Ko-nah blurted, then composed himself. “That’s not what I meant. I... I mean, no one has ever stood up for me, especially not to Tae-do.”

  “You know him?” Cho asked and showed Ko-nah to the empty bed.

  I kicked off my shoes and sat cross-legged, diverting half of my focus to repairing his schedule. I felt Mae’s presence. She guided my ma munje through the circuits, using her full attention to expedite the process. Since it wasn’t specifically a school project, I didn’t decline the assistance.

  Ko-nah sighed as he set his bag on the plush bed. “He’s my brother by marriage. My mother was widowed when I was six, and Tae-do’s father took care of us.”

  “My condolences,” I said. I put my fist to my heart and bowed my head. Il-sung and Cho echoed my sentiment, leaving Ko-nah puzzled.

  “You’re all from outer-cities?” he asked as he put away his belongings.

  I hummed acknowledgement, cut short by a blockage in my munje. Cho and Il-sung carried on a conversation with him while I diverted more of my attention to the obstacle in my path. It appeared a bit of the glass from the projector had shattered and pierced through the hard plastic. Well, that was a problem.

  My breathing deepened, and I turned the double bands on my core until ma and en aligned over the crystal. I pushed the energy through to create a spell that would heat the plastic to pliability without melting it outright into the other components. I’d used that spell at least a hundred times at the Rabbit and was well acquainted with it, giving me the mental bandwidth for another task.

  I turned the top band and aligned my second en block, infusing the next spell with additional complexity and strength. I used the resulting munje to deconstruct the piercing piece of glass and ferry it back to its proper place on the lens and reconstruct it. There was a small fragment of glass missing, but it wouldn’t prevent the schedule from displaying.

  Ko-nah’s somber tone brought me back to the present as he said, “Tae-do is closest to me in age, and I thought we could be friends, but instead he’s been horrible to me. The other brothers ignore me, like I don’t even exist. I’m not sure which is worse...”

  Cho patted him on the back, and Ko-nah shriveled under his touch. We were used to friendly touch from strangers in outer-cities, it was just what we did. But kingdomite strangers rarely touched casually, unless they were bumping each other on the street.

  Cho cleared his throat and backed away with a grimace. “It’s probably not at all because of you. It’s because of his father. From what you’ve said, wansil Wong overworks all his bloodline sons. It’s no wonder Tae-do is high-strung. All he ever does is fight his brothers.”

  Ko-nah sighed. “For a while, it bothered me that wansil Wong didn’t push me to be stronger, to join the fighters in the dojang like the others, but I got over it.”

  I could see in the way he faked a smile it still bothered him. I kicked off the bed and put the schedule away in my pocket as I said, “You don’t have to prove anything to him or to Tae-do. You’re here for you, right? What’s your strongest munje?”

  Ko-nah hummed. “Bastion wasn’t my choice; my mother sent me. None of my munje are great. I don’t know... ry is my strongest, I suppose. I spend a lot of time hiding from Tae-do.”

  The overhead speaker in our room came to life with the voice of Min-hwan, the Grandmaster of Bastion. “Welcome first-year students, and welcome back everyone else. We will be hosting lunch in the dining hall in forty minutes. We will explain the ground rules and this year’s tournament. That is all.”

  “Well, we have a whole six months to get those skills up,” Il-sung said to Ko-nah as he patted his back. Ko-nah winced and held his shoulders close to his ears. He reminded me a bit of a badgermouse; small, good at hiding, adept with ry munje—

  “Don’t forget fierce when threatened,” Mae interjected, and I hummed. He had yet to show any fierceness. Perhaps I was wrong.

  “I don’t know if I can,” Ko-nah sighed with a look of defeat. “Honestly, I was hoping I would fail out of last year so I could find work somewhere in the city.”

  “Why didn’t you, then?” I asked.

  Ko-nah’s cheeks flushed for the briefest of seconds as his eyes narrowed on me. Then his expression smoothed and I wondered if I’d seen it at all. “I suppose I wanted to see if I had what it took.”

  Cho nodded. “And you did. So, why not do it again?”

  Ko-nah’s scowl deepened. “I was in the high three-hundreds last year. I barely skimmed by—not like Jiyong,” he added with a nervous laugh. “I’m not like Tae-do either, and never will be.” He looked away, pain knitting the space between his brows.

  How could he think Tae-do was the best thing he could emulate? Why would he ever aspire to that? I wanted to shake that sad look off his face. More than that, I wanted Ko-nah to stand tall—as tall as he could—in front of Tae-do, unafraid.

  “Tae-do isn’t a Bastion, he’s a bully,” I said with heat, and all eyes focused on me. “Becoming a Bastion is to be your best self. We’ll help you, if you want.”

  Cho beamed. “That’s a great idea! Jiyong and Hana helped me with my zo all year, and with a few practices over the summer, too. Look—” he pulled up the sleeve of his dobok and flexed to reveal a substantially bulkier muscle than was there last year.

  “And Cho helped me with li,” I said. I didn’t want Ko-nah thinking the group was so lopsided. It wasn’t as if Hana and I were the only ones with gifts. Cho was talented far beyond Eun-bi’s skills with li munje. Yuri was a wizard when it came to water and electric en. I had yet to see Il-sung’s true gifts, but then again, we didn’t hang out much.

  Ko-nah shrugged, his face soured in confusion. “Why?”

  I wasn’t certain if he meant why should he try or why were we helping him.

  Il-sung put his hands on his hips and guffawed unnaturally before bellowing, “Because we’re the good guys!”

  We all shared a laugh, and Ko-nah’s scowl melted away. He even had a genuine smile on for a moment.

  Ko-nah bowed shallowly. “Okay, teach me your ways.”

  Chapter 8

  WE MET UP WITH HANA and Yuri not long after getting Ko-nah settled. We made our way through the entry hall that was as tall as it was wide. White pillars depicting scenes of the a
ncient ones supported the ceiling, no less than three stories high. The black floors were slick with a fresh waxing, and the whole pagoda appeared to have undergone some maintenance since the last semester.

  We sauntered through the garden to waste time. Yuri questioned Ko-nah, much to his discomfort. I didn’t think he’d ever had someone ask so many questions about his heritage, dreams, and favorite foods in one breath. Yuri was a conversational force to be reckoned with.

  Cho dropped in with Il-sung, and Hana fell back to my side at the rear. Her cool knuckles brushed the back of my hand as we walked, and a tiny smile turned up the edges of her pink lips. She stared ahead, but I could see her gazing at me in my periphery. I nudged her hand back as warmth crept into my cheeks from my chest.

  When the scents of food were practically pulling us to the dining hall, we made our way back inside. The customary pushing around of new students occurred. Tae-do seemed to be first to exercise his “right” to eating sooner. The young faces scowled, looking around to see if this was out of the ordinary.

  While I, too, had found it odd my first year, it was part of the experience that had prepared me for how difficult it was to become a Bastion. Hunger was a useful tool in growth. Being hungry had pushed me to achieve greatness for many years, even if the road had been hard. It was only a few extra minutes of hunger for the students, not days or weeks as I’d learned to deal with the first three years after my father had left.

  We pulled an extra two seating pillows from another table so all six of us could eat together near the center of the room. The fifth-year students were packed in at the front with many of the instructors, then the third-years, with the fourth-years taking to the outer seats far from the action, and the first-years being closer to the back.

  When everyone had taken their seat, and half the hall had already finished their first meal, Min-hwan stood to address the crowd.

  “Students!” he boomed, his voice augmented by ry munje. “Welcome to the hardest six months of your life.”

  The first-years broke into hushed whispers of fear. I smirked, remembering how I’d thought school would’ve been a breeze for me since I was from an outer-city. I had already spent a fair portion of my life struggling to survive, so what was a bit of school compared to working twelve hours straight at the arborum?

  How wrong I had been.

  The determined students would make it through the year stronger than they’d started it. If they were lucky, wiser too.

  Min-hwan went on to describe dueling, adding new rules for every student second-year and above. “As of this year and all to follow, second-year students and greater will be restricted to only one duel per week. Pick your battles wisely,” he said as he seemed to eye me. I gave Hana a sidelong glance, and she was staring at me, too.

  “What?” I mouthed with innocence.

  She scowled sarcastically, then looked back to the front of the room.

  Min-hwan cleared his throat and went on, “With that, I introduce the Core Foundation instructor, Master Woong-ji.”

  He stepped down and Woong-ji rose, explaining the importance of core design for a student’s success at Bastion. She described the tardiness rules, the five strikes and expulsion information. Then she finished with her customary, “I expect your best.”

  With that, we were turned loose to finish the feast. My ravenous appetite hadn’t waned in the slightest, and in fact, seemed increased. On my way for a second plate, I noticed a peculiar duo of first-year girls as they snickered, pouring a dingy green liquid into a hot bowl of soup.

  The steam lifting off the surface tinted a sour yellow for a second, then subsided. They pushed the bowl toward another girl at the table who hadn’t been paying attention, then smoothed the expressions on their face.

  I returned to my seat with my food. I wanted to ask Cho about it, since he’d done a summer apprenticeship at an apothecary and would likely have an idea of what it could’ve been, but he was engaged in conversation with Il-sung. After a moment, I nudged Yuri’s elbow and asked, “What’s that about?”

  She looked up in the direction I nodded. “What’sa what?”

  “The elixir,” I whispered. “I just saw those girls put something in the other’s soup.”

  Yuri hummed. “Prank potions. They’re not the only new thing at Bastion. Drugs showed up in higher-kingdom midway through the summer, then trickled down. Drugs everywhere. The sungchal have been on high alert, hunting several new dealer cells, but can’t seem to find the source. Everything from munje enhancement and mind relaxing to instant flatulence and pimple starters.”

  I scowled as I watched the unsuspecting first-year girl sip her tainted soup. “Flatulence and pimples?”

  Yuri slurped up her noodles with a hum. “Prank potions, hot with all the kids. Watch yourself.”

  A few minutes went by and the pranked girl shot up from her seat, holding her stomach as she ran for the exit. Flatulence, it must’ve been.

  ‘Mae, can you see how it’s working?’ I asked internally.

  Mae hummed. “She didn’t get close enough for a full body scan, but I’m guessing it’s extracts of inflammatory substances mixed with carefully programmed li munje. There was something else, though... Maybe it’s nothing.”

  ‘What is it?’

  “She seemed to be giving off a similar signal reverb as the junkie in Pi-Ki,” she said, her tone loaded with confusion.

  ‘Maybe it’s just something our munje does when exposed to the altering substances?’ I offered.

  Her voice was grave as she said, “Yeah... maybe.”

  It wasn’t a very convincing maybe. Part of me wanted to question Mae, to see what was going on in her head, but we’d spent a year together and I knew by now that if she had something important to tell me, she would tell me in her own time. It had taken her a week to tell me my mother was dying so quickly, but she’d told me.

  I felt Mae’s apprehension as she said, “I don’t know anything right now. I’d need a closer inspection of the substance in question to analyze it. I’d need you to ingest it, and that’s not something I could ask of you. Let’s just stay out of it, Jiyong. Let’s have a normal school year. We can work on the device, and maybe by the end of the year you can be rid of me.”

  I set my chopsticks aside in contemplation.

  Yuri looked at me with a knowing glance as she asked, “What does she think?”

  “What does who think?” Ko-nah asked, setting his tea down to focus on me.

  I looked at Yuri, the bluntest of blunt friends I’d ever had, and expected her to blurt the truth with abandon.

  “His mother. We’re talking about Hana,” she said without a blink of dishonesty, though she’d lied through her teeth.

  “What about me?” Hana turned to Yuri with concern.

  Suddenly, the entire table was looking at me.

  “I, um...” I needed something to get everyone’s eyes off me. “I told my mother that I, uh, I wanted you to come over for dinner.”

  Hana smiled. “Finally. When are we going?”

  Ko-nah turned his attention back to Il-sung, and I withheld my sigh of relief. This secret life was hard to live. Yuri pulled Cho aside and shoved him next to Ko-nah so she could scoot next to me. Hana leaned closer, too. I grimaced, but everyone’s attention seemed to be on the secondary conversation Il-sung was keeping alive.

  “We need to talk later,” I whispered from the side of my mouth before taking a drink of tea.

  “When?” Hana asked, her tone excited. She lived for the thrill of our adventures, and while I loved to adventure with her, for once, I just wanted to go to school.

  I smirked as I looked her in the eyes and said, “Where you pulled my arm from its socket, midnight.”

  Hana sucked down a breath to retort, her eyes squinted, and brow furrowed.

  Yuri put a hand out to stop her and whispered, “We’ll be there.”

  Chapter 9

  SLIPPING PAST KO-NAH was more complicated than I’d
anticipated. His breathing was inaudible, like a mouse, and twice when I got up, he roused. After two failed attempts to sneak away, I cast a ry sound dampening spell around his bed, which seemed to do the trick.

  Cho and I shrouded ourselves in ry shadow as we ran to the glade beside the resident village. When we arrived at the fateful location where I’d had my arm yanked from its joint, we hid ourselves behind flowering bushes of blues and pinks. The bushes’ scents were sweet, but there was another smell tickling at the back of my mind.

  Lilac.

  My gaze raked across the clearing around us as I hunted for Hana. The hairs on my arms raised with anticipation. There was no doubt she already saw me, but would I find her before she—

  “Got you,” Hana whispered in my ear, and I jumped. It was always a game of cat and mouse to her, testing our skills against one another. Her ry had become stronger by several orders of magnitude over the summer, something I didn’t get to see often while working.

  “You win this round,” I said as I turned to greet her. She and Yuri were using a refraction spell, but it wasn’t quite strong enough to hide them completely. I could see the outlines of their figures, like ghostly shadows of the people they were.

  “So, what’s going on?” Yuri asked. The air around her vibrated as she walked through the spell like passing under a waterfall. She went from a vague shape to the girl I recognized.

  Hana helped me to cast another sound dampening sphere around the four of us, and we sat cross-legged on the cool grass. Mae and I explained about the junkie we saw in Pi-Ki, how Daegon had almost died, and the weird signal Mae detected from the girl who’d consumed the flatulence potion.

  “Is it a reaction with our munje?” Hana asked, just as I had.

  Mae fiddled with her long, holographic braid of black hair. “I’m not certain. Jiyong didn’t get enough of a living sample for me to analyze. The thief’s munje broke down so fast in his system, it seemed unnatural.”