10:15.
I weighed out three grams of Clear Thoughts on the scale and poured the leaves into a cup. The kettle, pre-set to heat to 97°C, beeped as it reached the right temperature. I immediately poured the hot water over the leaves and covered the cup with a lid.
Now, I just had to wait two minutes—which I did, as the scent of honey, citrus, and mint spread through the room, blending into a soothing, harmonious aroma.
When the tea was ready, I removed the lid.
The light amber liquid shimmered with a faint golden sheen on the surface.
I took a small sip—and burned my tongue.
Technically, the instructions said it was ready to drink, but for me, it was still too hot. Not that it weakened the effect—in fact, the warmth spread through my body, clearing my mind, sharpening my thoughts, and making me feel lighter, as if I’d shed some unseen weight.
The next sip was easier. Not because the tea had suddenly cooled, but because I had better control over my body’s reaction.
I checked the time: 10:19.
The calming effect kept me from rushing—or from stretching out the moment unnecessarily. I simply enjoyed the taste, and when the tea was gone, I packed the used leaves into the container Doc had given me, tossed it into the locker, and left the room.
This time, the bait ring stayed on my finger, despite how important today was. If I took it off every time I had something crucial coming up, I’d probably forget to put it back on—like I did yesterday. I’d never catch anyone—and maybe even disappoint Novak.
There were plenty more important days ahead, and I’d rather not disappoint Vaclav.
At 10:37, I stepped into the Meditation Hall.
Kate was already waiting.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Her eyes flicked to my hand.
"What’s that?" she asked, pointing at the ring.
"Oh… Found it in the metro." I lied.
"Looks expensive…" Kate murmured, examining the strange engravings.
"Focus," I told her. "Cultivation first. You can play with it later."
"Deal," she agreed.
My chamber freed up at 10:43, so we didn’t have to wait long.
I stepped inside and sprawled out on the grid, as much as the cramped space allowed. Even lying diagonally from one corner to another, I still had to tuck my legs in.
"What the hell is this?" Kate protested. "Sit properly!"
"Doc said I could!" I snapped. "And I’m not arguing about this again! I cultivated sitting during the first…" I hesitated. "Second trip to the chambers, when they marched us here in formation. It was uncomfortable as hell. The first time—with Doc—I cultivated lying down. And he had no complaints!"
My sharp response made her take a step back.
"Did you drink the tea?" she asked.
"I did."
"Then why are you so aggressive?"
"Felt like I’d win the argument faster this way."
"Uh-huh… Sure," Kate muttered. "Well, just so you know, I won’t be able to stop the flow if something happens to you. I just won’t see it. You could destroy your cultivation."
"I’m fine with that."
"Then let’s begin." She shut the door behind me.
The chamber darkened without the hallway light. The tiny window wasn’t enough to compensate, but the soft blue glow behind the grid on the ceiling flickered to life. When it got too bright, I closed my eyes—and felt it.
Qi.
It was rougher, less uniform than the distinct Fist Qi. Like a chaotic mix of all things living.
My mind was already clear. This time, instead of bracing against the impact, instead of resisting the wave, I was ready to ride it.
Just don’t open your eyes, I reminded myself. Last time, that hurt like hell. Nearly burned them out completely.
Heat surged through me, wrapping around my body in a strange pulsing rhythm that tore at my mucous membranes.The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But I didn’t fight it.
I exhaled in sync with the Qi crashing against me, letting the energy flow through me, igniting every cell, activating every fiber—and at the same time, attacking every weak spot. My bones and muscles hummed. My blood roared through my veins. And without resistance, my whole body became a resonator for the flow.
I felt the wave lifting me, carrying me along with its pulse. All the pain faded away. And I drifted, swaying on the gentle tide of an endless sea—
"JAKE!"
A sharp slap yanked me from its embrace.
My head banged against the chamber wall.
"What the hell?!" I snapped at Kate.
She was standing over me, bent forward, her hand raised for another strike.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"You weren’t responding!" she lowered her hand. "You blacked out!"
"I didn’t black out!" I shoved her aside and sat up.
"Wait… it’s over already? The fifteen minutes are up?"
"They’re up!" she growled. "‘Didn’t black out,’ my ass."
"I didn’t! It was more like a trance." I pulled up my interface.
Cultivation Level: 202/2467
"Oh, hell yes!" I grinned.
"What?" Kate asked.
"Check my cultivation level."
Kate’s jaw dropped. And just to really finish her off, I added:
"Oh, and I barely feel any fatigue. Is that the tea’s effect?"
Kate stared at me with open suspicion. Then she made up her mind.
"No fatigue, huh?" she echoed. "Alright, come with me."
She led me through several hallways and stopped in front of a set of wide double doors.
A sign above read: "Physical Training Hall."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Seriously?"
I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it definitely wasn’t a normal gym.
In my mind, cultivators relied on Qi, strengthening their bodies through strikes, meditation, or some other spiritual crap.
But here? Barbells. Treadmills. Dumbbells.
Kate snorted.
"Let’s see how ‘fatigue-free’ you really are."
My skepticism vanished the moment I saw a thin girl in a sports bra and shorts effortlessly lift a barbell at least three times her weight. A few meters away, a massive guy—who I’d sooner expect to be under that same barbell—was sprinting on a treadmill so fast his legs had turned into a blur.
Kate noticed my shock.
"Cultivators have insane regeneration," she explained. "But that doesn’t mean a trained body isn’t an advantage. Muscle memory, endurance, coordination—none of that goes away. First-years don’t come here often, though. They usually don’t have the time."
I was just about to agree that it made sense when she dragged me toward a treadmill.
"Alright, let’s see what you can do."
"I can’t do that," I said, nodding toward the sprinter.
"Just run. Nothing extreme."
I set the treadmill to medium speed and started jogging.
For the first few minutes, everything felt great—my body was light, like the Qi flow was still carrying me. But gradually, I felt a familiar strain in my legs. Then, my pulse started creeping up. By the seventh minute, the lightness was gone.
"Welp, looks like tea alone won’t turn me into a marathon runner," I said, slowing my pace.
"Quit whining. Keep running."
"Hell no. I haven’t trained in ages, and I’m not about to wreck my legs for no reason."
Kate gave me a look that made it clear—she wasn’t letting this go.
"You’ve still got energy left."
"And? You want me to be sore tomorrow? I don’t get why you’re pushing this. Are you punishing me for something?"
Kate never struck me as the vengeful type, so I was genuinely curious about her motives.
She shrugged.
"I’ll admit—you’re holding up better than I expected."
"Well, I’m starting to feel tired now," I corrected her.
"Tell you what—make it another twenty minutes, and next time, we’ll reassess your limit. You’ll be able to cultivate longer in the Flow Chamber."
"Fifteen," I tried bargaining.
"Twenty," Kate insisted.
"I don’t know if I can last twenty," I admitted.
Kate grinned.
"That’s the point."
Spoiler alert: I didn’t last. Kate cranked up the speed too high.
By the nineteenth minute, my knee buckled, I tripped, smashed my face into the panel, and went flying off the treadmill. Good thing I managed to turn my head at the last second—otherwise, I’d have broken my nose. Kate, meanwhile, had a great laugh.
"You’re evil," I groaned, trying to push myself up. "Tomorrow—no, the day after tomorrow—I won’t be able to walk."
"You’ll be fine."
Kate hauled me to my feet with one hand.
"Come on, let’s go see your Diego. He’ll patch you up."
"Not sure I have anything to pay him with."
"I do. You’ll owe me instead."
I sighed dramatically.
"My debts keep piling up!"
Kate contacted Diego 015 herself.
By the time I could stand properly, she sent me the location—a room in the medical wing—and told me to head there while she stopped by home first. Despite that, she caught up with me on the way.
Diego was already waiting inside, sitting between two half-dismantled pods. Other than that, the room looked just like the first medical ward I’d been in. He was reading something on his tablet.
"Welcome," he said, waving it in greeting.
Kate didn’t waste time.
She pulled a metal vial from her pocket and held it up, pinched between her thumb and index finger. It looked like the ones my fellow assistant supervisors had given me yesterday—except for the emblem.
Instead of the Fist, though, this one bore a lightning bolt and a tiny pine tree. The marking was M2.
Diego’s eyes lit up with desire. He reached for it, and Kate placed it in his palm. Diego tucked the vial into his coat pocket.
"What do you need?" he asked.
"Check the cultivation logs," Kate requested. "10:45, Chamber 23."
Diego picked up his tablet, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.
"Check first. Then I’ll tell you what we need," Kate said.
"Hope it’s nothing serious — one vial isn’t much," he remarked.
"It’s worth more than just a quick look at some logs," Kate countered.
"If it were that simple, you’d have done it yourself," Diego replied smoothly—but still started reading. At one point, his eyebrows rippled in a wave, and he shot me a surprised look.
"Says he was in a trance," Kate said.
"Could be," Diego nodded, waving his tablet. "All readings are normal. What do you need from me?"
"Nothing dangerous in there? No anomalies? He didn’t lose consciousness?"
Diego checked again.
"Nope."
"Then in a few days, I want to reassess him. I need you to monitor his vitals in real-time."
Diego tilted his head.
"Why?"
"Because this idiot cultivates lying down," Kate snapped. "How am I supposed to tell if he’s still alive or if he just died?!"
"Hmm… I’m free the day after tomorrow, after lunch."
"I’ve got a shift from 14:30 to 17:00. If possible, let’s do it after that," I asked.
"We’ll figure it out," Kate said.
"Great, then—" Diego was clearly about to wrap up.
"I still need patching up," I reminded him.
Kate waved a dismissive hand.
"Nothing serious. I just ran him on a treadmill—now he’s whining about soreness."
"That machine just cleared inspection," Diego pointed at one of the intact pods. "Strip down—get in."
I glanced at Kate.
She rolled her eyes.
"What haven’t I seen already?"
"Oh? So you’re a woman of experience now?"
"Out!" Diego ordered before we could start bickering.
I started stripping down and hesitated, unsure what to do with the ring and the amulet beneath my shirt.
"Diego?" I asked, pointing at the ring.
"Take it off," he instructed.
Then he frowned.
"Hmm… That pattern looks familiar. Where’d you get it?"