I went down to the metro and first thing, I called Robinson.
Sure, it was late — but I didn’t think Novak would be thrilled if Rahman got tangled up in his other plans. I had to deal with the blossom box before morning — otherwise I’d waste another half a day.
“What kind of disgusting habit is this — calling people late at night?!” Doc snapped as soon as he picked up. “You’re the cheekiest cadet I know. And you’re getting cheekier by the day.”
“Uh-huh… So you don’t want the blossom, then?” I asked.
“You’ve got it?” Doc perked up. “No way!”
“Yup. Seventy grams, exactly. But hey, if you’re not interested…”
“There you go again — even cheekier! I’m sending a location. Be there in thirty.”
The location turned out to be literally one stop back on the metro — the one I’d just passed. Clearly, the fatigue was getting to me, because I blurted:
“I can be there in five.” Then corrected myself — only slightly: “Ten.”
“Done,” the doctor said, clearly pleased. Guess he was too excited to think straight. Or maybe just as tired as I was. Though later, I was sure he’d ask what exactly I’d been doing five minutes from his place.
When I got to the right stop, Doc was already waiting. It had only been about four minutes — but he saw which direction I’d come from. Definitely the centre, not Novak’s residential block.
I showed him the box. It practically hypnotised him — but first, I delivered Novak’s message.
“My contact says that if you can’t brew the elixir, you’ll owe him two hundred K. You alright with that?”
“Yes-yes-yes,” Doc babbled — which really just meant gimme-gimme-gimme.
I handed him the box.
He opened the lid carefully, looked inside, and gave it a sniff.
“Jake!” he said, stunned. “This is at least purple-grade!”
“Be happy, Doc,” I said, hands spread. “Or walk away. Because I wasn’t joking about the two hundred thousand. And my contact can collect — if it comes to that.”
“Who the hell are you mixed up with?”
I waved that off.
“Unless you’ve got a magical way to push me through the first bottleneck after my next cultivation, I’m leaving.”
I looked at Doc hopefully — but he was still fully focused on the tea. Didn’t even blink. He shook his head slowly, eyes still locked on his golden treasure.
“My contact’s expecting the elixir soon,” I reminded him.
“Three days,” Doc muttered.
“Good luck,” I said as a parting shot, gave a half-wave, and headed home to sleep.
The next day, I presented Rahman with the earrings. She had to come up with some excuse for her roommates, so from that point on, we had breakfast separately, lunch with my lot, and dinner with her girls. The rest of the time, we spent either in the Garden or in my room. Even our Flow Chamber sessions were now synced — though she was monitored by Bulsara, of course. He also prescribed her some special tea — definitely not Pure Thought. I smelled it.
That evening — the night I hit my bottleneck — Nur passed her reassessment and nearly doubled her time to twenty-six minutes. After that, she passed out cold, and Farukh “granted permission” for me to carry her home.
It wasn’t romantic in the slightest. Nur was not a featherweight. I had to hoist her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes — the trip to her room nearly killed me. After I handed her off to her roommates, I nearly collapsed right there in their doorway.
Making it back to my own room, and even managing to shower, took Herculean effort. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about the bullies anymore. They’d have to be complete idiots to attack an assistant supervisor.
At least the exhaustion kept me from giving in to the burning urge to break through right there and then. The interface kept tempting me with a flashing message:
Warning!
Bottleneck reached!
My cultivation level sat at 717 / 2467.
Thank God I was too tired to react. And thankfully, I hadn’t bought that breakthrough potion Doc mentioned — so I literally couldn’t. Because if I had…
It felt like a tiny sun had ignited in my solar plexus. Like I was behind the wheel of a sports car and it was begging me to slam the pedal down.The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
I wanted to break through.
I knew I could.
The feeling was completely irrational — but absolute.
Now I understood what Novak meant when he said that before the interface, cultivation was all about inner sensations.
Sod those sensations. Look what happened to Bao when he trusted his...
And yet, the next morning — cultivation level 708 / 2467 — the message was still there.
And I saw Dubois — all tall, shiny and confident, with a bandolier of plastic spikes across his chest and a small sword on his hip — heading to the training grounds to practise point techniques.
I wanted that too!
I wanted to start learning Fist techniques! I wanted to master Chain Punch! The impatience gnawed at me like a bloody temptation snake.
Everyone noticed.
I had to admit it — and got a wave of half-sincere congratulations in return. My boys, especially Bao, the girls from Nur’s group, even Nur herself — they all took it with a mix of envy and concern.
Either way, I was getting ahead. And that made me just one more obstacle on their path to success.
Still, Nur was making progress too. She finally sensed Fist Qi for the first time. No enlightenment, but still — not bad at all.
She’d used fifteen of her forty essence ampoules and asked Doc Bulsara if she could stop. Her Root had reached 19 — enough to clearly distinguish Fist within a Qi flow. The rest of the ampoules she planned to save for the Garden — when her sensitivity grew enough to maybe squeeze out that lucky +1.
My sensitivity had improved too. I could now faintly sense strong techniques, even with formation dampening. Not that it cheered me up. That bloody notification wouldn’t go away — all the way into the evening.
My cultivation level was dropping — qi dispersing — and still, that cursed message lingered.
Thankfully, Doc called. Bit of a distraction. Though he sounded so cheerful, it was disgusting.
After dinner, I said goodbye to Nur and stopped by Doc’s place. He handed me a glass of elixir. Judging by his smug little smile, he was confident in the quality. Since I was already there, I asked if he could scan me — let me know if I should go for the breakthrough.
Shouldn’t have asked.
He didn’t even scan — said if the notification was still up in another day, then I should’ve. And it wouldn’t be a problem if I decided to break through on the second cultivation. He was in such a good mood, he told me not to bother booking the Chamber next time — he’d handle it himself and make sure my “minor breakthrough” went smoothly.
Utterly deflated by the answer, I dropped the elixir off with Bulsara. He just nodded. Not a word — not even half of one. Like I wasn’t someone worth talking to.
And the notification? Still there. Haunting me through the whole next day. And pissing off Rahman — not on purpose, but my frustration was driving her nuts too.
But I could’ve made the breakthrough on my first go! In the two days since my session, another twenty people had done it. Now there were thirty-six cadets at the mid-level of first stage cultivation.
And me? Instead of learning Fist techniques, I was picking flowers and negotiating with Doc Robinson for regular flower deliveries.
Yeah, Bulsara had analysed his elixir and given it a yellow grade — which, for this stuff, was honestly overkill. But Novak had sensed an opportunity, and now it was all about whether Robinson could upgrade it to orange or even red.
Doc was asked to brew another forty batches and then patent the recipe officially.
Why?
I didn’t know. But I suspected that once the patent was filed, the price of the blossom would skyrocket — and Novak wanted to stockpile in advance. He also said he could get his hands on a Frost Spider Larva, which completely floored Robinson. Though apparently, Novak recommended using Silver Obsidian instead. That broke the Doc.
With that, he’d bought Robinson — and practically chained him to his bloody ankle.
Robinson was thrilled with the deal. As for me — I still had no idea what the hell they were talking about. Didn’t stop me reminding Doc he owed me a red-grade elixir.
He was so emotionally wrecked he agreed immediately.
That lifted my spirits a bit. The whole “missed opportunity for a minor breakthrough” finally stopped burning a hole in my mood. In the morning, I bought the necessary booster. And by evening, after a cup of Pure Thought, I’d mellowed out completely. Just the jittery tension of the upcoming transition remained.
Even the bloody notification — still there — didn’t bother me too much anymore.
Doc took the ampoule from me and threw me into the Chamber for ten minutes. According to him, that was more than enough for our purposes.
Ten minutes. Barely caught the wave — and the sea got shut off.
Doc opened the hatch, checked his tablet and said,
“According to the data, you’re feeling fine.”
“Damn right, Doc! Just fire up that bloody ampoule already!”
The calm that had settled in my head after the tea vanished like a wave. In my chest, the impatient sun burst back to life again.
I stood and made for the hatch — but Doc stopped me.
“Back in — but don’t lie down. And move over.”
He placed his tablet under the wall and climbed into the Chamber himself.
There wasn’t really enough space for two, so he made me sit, then sat down facing me. Our knees were pressed together — awkward, but manageable.
“I’ve never read about this,” I muttered.
“There’s a lot you haven’t read,” he said, pulling a contactless injector from his pocket. He loaded the ampoule into it and pressed it against my neck.
“You can even see in this pitch bla—” I yelped as a cold jolt hit me.
The chill snaked through my veins from the injection site. A small stream crept up my cheek and behind my left eye, heading into my brain — but the main flood surged downward, straight into my chest and solar plexus.
The sun inside me froze.
Froze solid. Covered in sharp, splintering ice.
I couldn’t breathe — but my whole body was ready. I barely twitched my neck and the icy shell shattered into a thousand shards.
Something burst open inside me. Something tight and long-held, suddenly unbound. And I was flying. Like I’d finally slammed the pedal on that sports car and it was hurtling down an open motorway at insane speed.
Inhale.
Deep.
Slow.
The sun in my chest didn’t vanish — it transformed. Now it pulsed, deep inside, radiating gigawatts of energy that flooded the entire Flow Chamber.
No — not energy. Qi. Excess qi — being expelled from my body.
Well — my body didn’t need it anymore. Doc, the sneaky bastard, was waving his hands around, harvesting like mad.
“And you—” I winced at the sound of my own voice. It was too loud. Like I’d been underwater all this time — and suddenly surfaced, hearing real sound for the first time.
It wasn’t just my hearing. I had changed. I felt lighter — not because I’d lost weight, but because some kind of invisible, mental weight had finally dropped away.
I listened to my body, tracking every shift and change — while Doc shamelessly leeched off the qi I was shedding.
“And you have the nerve to call me cheeky?” I asked at last.
“Well it’s not like you can cultivate right now, is it?” he replied, still collecting. “No point wasting good qi.”
The ambient level inside the capsule had visibly dropped.