The School had an entire business center—its own metro stop, a separate building with shops, restaurants, and even a hotel. There were several types of stores: the school shop, corporate halls, private vendor stands, and an auction that was traditionally held once a year. The next one was five months away.
The commercial area itself wasn’t that large since real goods weren’t displayed on shelves. Instead, screens and holo-projections took their place. Most of the available space was used for storage.
That didn’t mean we couldn’t get our hands on the merchandise.
Kate was most familiar with the school store, so she took me there. Grabbing a terminal, she quickly pulled up the recommended items and started tossing them into a virtual cart.
First on the list was a regular backpack. Then, a glass teapot with a metal strainer—simple, functional. It came with four small, thick-walled glass cups.
Next was an electric kettle—compact, stainless steel, with adjustable temperature settings.
Pharmacy scales. Because, apparently, I had to measure tea leaves properly now.
"For most teas, it’s important not to overheat the water," she explained. "For Pure Thoughts, the ideal temperature is 96 degrees Celsius. So, I recommend setting the kettle to 97. I’ll send you the brewing instructions."
Kate kept scrolling until she found what she was looking for—a tall ceramic cup with a lid, no handle.
"I use one like this," she said, flipping through the images.
The white cup had a delicate blue pattern, a lid with a small opening, and a built-in strainer.
It also cost 99.99 units—more expensive than everything else combined—and one School point.
"You can brew tea directly in it," Kate added. "And from now on, Pure Thoughts—only in this."
The second-to-last item was cheap tea.
To my surprise, the color ranking system I’d heard about also applied to tea. Kate picked out Gunpowder, a green-rank green tea blend with fatigue-relieving effects—mostly so I wouldn’t offend my neighbors by refusing to serve them tea.
"And what rank is this stuff?" I asked, pulling out the tin from her master again.
It had no markings.
"Not lower than orange."
"Whoa."
Yeah, I was definitely not sharing.
The final item was bottled water. It was cheap—two units per bottle.
"I’m not saying it enhances the effect—it hasn’t been proven," Kate admitted. "But for brewing Pure Thoughts, use this."
At checkout, we were able to inspect everything before buying. The system was similar to the multi-armed setup in the Hall of Armor—mechanical manipulators pulled the items from storage and placed them on the counter.
Kate gave everything a thorough once-over, while the cashier simply confirmed the purchase.
I quickly packed everything into my brand-new backpack and slung it over my shoulder.
"What’s next?" I asked Kate.
"Next, we wait for your armor fitting. Let’s see what you get."
"I heard it's a lottery too."
"Oh, big time. If you get an old model, you’ll have to shell out for something better."
"Actually, I already ordered…"
"What?"
"A cheap plastic shell."
"Why?!"
"For working in the garden."
"Hmm… Well, for that, it’s hard to think of anything better. But you could have waited to see what they’d issue you first before spending money."
I spread my hands. Looked like Alan had definitely scammed me…
"Alright, no big deal," Kate said. "Let’s see if we can make use of it. Who’d you buy it from?"
"Alan… Hold on, let me check." I pulled up my contacts. "Kalum. Alan Kalum."
"The guy you were talking to in the hallway? Isn’t he into top-tier armor? How’d you even meet him?"
"By accident. Doc knows him—we ran into each other near the Flow Chambers. As for the armor, he suggested the options, I just picked one."
"Send me his contact. I’ll handle it."
Kate took Alan’s contact and told me to go get some rest.
I felt like I’d just taken one step deeper into life here. I had a tea set now—which meant I could officially call myself a cultivator!
But I didn’t rush home to brew tea. Instead, I called Doc, invited myself over, and texted that I’d bring tea.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
He was so surprised that he actually called me back.
"You have tea?"
"Yeah, I found myself a mentor, and her master gave me some. Kate says it’s no lower than orange rank. Pure Thoughts."
"That’s… a very good tea. I’d advise you to use it for its intended purpose instead of serving it to everyone. You can treat me to something else when you’ve leveled up a bit. Though… don’t throw out the used leaves. I can repurpose them. Swing by my office—I’ll give you a container for collection."
"Send me the location. I don’t remember the way."
The office was the same, except the monitors were off, and Doc had his legs propped up on that ancient couch under the weird painting. He was scrolling through something on his tablet.
When I walked in, he moved over to his desk and held out a hand. I passed him the tin.
Doc took it, popped it open, inhaled deeply, and let out a short snort.
"Well, damn. Share some of that luck, will you?"
Yeah, right.
With the school’s brutal entry exams, demon agents running around, and a looming raid with guaranteed bloodshed, I needed all the luck I could get.
Even if I knew how to share it, I wouldn’t.
"I could share some tea."
"Eh." Doc waved a hand dismissively. "You’ll get more use out of it. I’ll take the used leaves."
He handed me a small dark container—it looked like a vacuum capsule.
"Put them in here after every brew. As soon as possible. Don’t let them sit out in the air too long."
I still didn’t get it.
"What do you need used tea for?"
Doc smirked slightly.
"Tea leaves don’t lose all their properties after brewing. With the right chemical treatment, I can extract a bit more and put it to good use."
That was… unexpected.
"You can do that with any tea?"
"Only high-rank ones. Otherwise, it’s not worth the effort."
"Hmm… Pure Intent?" I asked.
Doc’s eyes widened.
"High-rank? You have it?"
"Not me, but I know someone who has it. Though I doubt she’d give it away for free."
"If you mean used leaves, they’re not worth buying. I’d spend more on reagents than I’d get back."
"Got it. I’ll bring you mine—but I would like to know what you can extract from them."
"Nothing major—just a mild sedative for the Flow Chamber. Same effect as the tea itself."
We chatted a bit longer. Doc asked about my mentor. Turns out, he knew her—apparently, Kate had patched up a lot of broken bones in the infirmary. She even reattached her leg once.
Probably where she met Diego.
The thought of broken bones didn’t exactly thrill me… but at least their medical tech was advanced. Regrowing teeth, reattaching limbs—not bad.
I decided not to dwell on it. For now, everything was going pretty well.
I got back to my room, loaded with shopping bags and Doc’s container, in a decently good mood.
Metaphorically speaking, the sky was clear—
Until I ran into Tariq.
Flashing a smug little grin, he tried to shoulder-check me.
And then—
Not even a memory. More like déjà vu. I knew he was going to do that.
I sidestepped, angled my shoulder away, and placed my foot just right. Tariq tripped, flailed his arms, and went down.
"Oops. Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?" I asked, voice thick with mock concern.
Face red as a tomato, Tariq sprang back up and tried to shove me.
But before he could even get his balance, I drove my shin into his thigh.
Hard.
Tariq dropped like a felled tree, eyes wide, gasping.
"Son of a—"
The déjà vu vanished.
…Do I know kung fu?
No.
This definitely wasn’t kung fu.
I wondered—was there kung fu in this world? Or was it something more practical, like boxing? From what little I’d seen so far, martial arts here looked more like magic than actual combat.
I crouched down next to Tariq and made him a very clear promise.
"Keep this up, and you’ll be shitting blood."
My memory was a mess, but one thing I did know—you had to deal with bullies early and hard.
Tariq shot me a hateful glare, pulling his leg in, but said nothing. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t expecting him to. His words weren’t worth a damn anyway.
I simply turned and, ignoring the cadets staring from the hallway, stepped into my room. Denis and Marlon were there—both sprawled on their beds, messing with their tablets. First thing I did was warn them about Tariq. He might take his frustration out on them instead.
Denis didn’t seem too concerned.
"He’s not much on his own," he admitted. "But I’m sure he’ll latch onto a gang sooner or later."
I set my backpack on the desk, pulled out my purchases, and started unpacking.
I handed Denis the kettle.
"Be a good man," I said, gesturing for him to get some water. "I’ll read up on how to brew this properly."
"Is it anything special?" Marlon asked.
"Green tea, green rank," I replied. "I do have something special, but I was explicitly warned that my spine would be broken if I shared it with you."
"Who warned you?"
"My mentor."
"Wait, what? You already found one?!" Marlon gaped. "Who is it? Spill!"
"Hold on a second!" Denis protested. "I wanna hear this too!"
He ran off to fetch water, while Marlon climbed down from his bunk and grabbed the tea packet.
"Smells bitter," he noted, rummaging through his locker.
A moment later, he dumped a pile of chocolate bars and a box of cookies onto the table.
I set out the cups, measured the dose, and dropped the leaves into the infuser.
Denis returned a few minutes later, rubbing his cheek.
"You were right," he grumbled. "That little shit tried to pick a fight with me."
"Tariq?" I asked. He was little only comparing to Denis.
"Yeah. Had to slap him down."
I set the kettle to 88 degrees and started my story. Trimming out a lot of details, I told them about Diego and Kate. I mentioned Novak—there was no way to hide that. I left out most of what we actually talked about… but even with the edited version, both of their jaws dropped.
Finally, the kettle beeped, signaling it was ready.
I poured the hot water into the infuser. Within minutes, a pleasant aroma filled the room—grass and green walnuts.
I poured the tea into cups and handed them to the guys.
"A toast?" Denis asked, raising his cup.
"To surviving the selection?" I suggested.
"Great idea."
We drank.
The tea was strong, slightly astringent, but left a pleasant warmth in my stomach.
"Bitter," Denis disagreed and chased his sip with a cookie.
"Donkey piss!" Marlon declared, tearing open a candy bar.
"You two have no spirit of real cultivators!" I announced.
I actually liked the tea.
"This piss belongs in our cafeteria menu!" Marlon added, biting into his bar.
"Give it back!" I reached for his cup.
Marlon immediately yanked it out of reach.
"Easy, easy, don’t lose your mind! I’m talking about the taste—the effect still stands. Hey, by the way, think your Kate could recommend me a mentor?"
"Not sure. I’ll ask if I get the chance."
"You trying to get in with one of Vaclav’s students?" Denis caught on. "Hell yeah! You ask for me too!"
"But he’s a Fist cultivator…"
"Kate is a Fist cultivator. Vaclav’s already at the fifth stage. I highly doubt he’s only developed one root," Denis corrected me. "Which means he probably has students specializing in Palm techniques." He leaned forward, grinning like a cat that just stole cream. "Oh! And to make me look more valuable and promising, tell them I already landed a job!" He practically sang the last part. "Meditation Hall janitor…"
We didn’t share his enthusiasm—so he felt the need to explain.
"You guys felt the qi field in there, right? I’ll be able to clean and cultivate at the same time!"
"I think you’re mistaken," I rained on his parade. "I’m pretty sure that field was just leftover Flow Qi. The curators were rushing the introductions and opened the chamber doors before the energy fully dissipated. When Doc took me there, there was no leftover qi field."
Denis froze, drained his cup in one go, and bolted out into the hallway. Probably off to check the Meditation Hall.
My theory was confirmed later. He came back looking very disappointed.
I texted Kate about the guys. She replied that she’d ask around.
She also let me know she had settled things with Alan.
My fitting was set for tomorrow—9.00.