Doc continued for a few more minutes, methodically moving his hands through the gathering technique. His movements were smooth and rhythmic — not ornamental, but functional. The excess qi swirling around was drawn into his body like smoke into a greedy extractor fan.
It didn’t stop him from talking.
"Considering how much of an ignoramus you can be, don’t go blaming it all on amnesia," he added. "Your body’s high right now. You're peaking. Everything feels amazing, life’s brilliant, everything’s humming, everything’s working. I know. It’ll quiet down."
"It’ll quiet down, but it won’t go away, right?" I asked warily. "This is a breakthrough — small one, but it’s real! I finally felt actual change! Do you even realise how long it took me to get here?"
"Less than three weeks!" Doc snapped. "You think that’s a long time? Have some bloody perspective! You’ve basically shot up to the mid-tier of the first stage on an express train! What’re you going to do at the final stage? There the energy dispersal can reach ninety-nine percent!"
Doc fell silent to let me take in just how much patience I’d need to muster.
When, in his opinion, the point had sunk in — though in truth my brain had just crashed like a jammed calculator — he continued.
"In a day, two tops, things will stabilise and you’ll feel like your old self again. That, by the way, will be self-deception — just your mind trying to preserve its sanity. You’re already faster, tougher, more resilient than regular mortals. You’re just not used to the power yet. And once you get used to it, you’ll have to get used to something else — the annoying fact that everyone around you suddenly feels much weaker, and even a firm handshake might hurt them. It’s not so obvious now, but after a major breakthrough — a stage breakthrough — you’ll notice it."
"I don’t think being stronger than others sounds all that bad."
"Not here, no," Doc said, finally lowering his hands. The qi field in the Chamber dropped back to normal. "Here, there are plenty of people stronger than you. But out there..." Doc jabbed a finger at the floor — probably meaning Earth. "Cultivators often go mad with power. Even a simple Foundation."
"Speaking from experience?" I asked.
Despite the thick shadows in the Chamber, I saw Robinson grimace.
"All the girls chase after you, all the blokes hate you. And you start acting the way everyone expects."
I snorted. The world of cultivators had just shown me one of its more unexpected sides.
"What else should I expect?" I asked.
Doc stood up and opened the door.
"Sweating, nausea, diarrhea — all the makings of a full-on ‘breakthrough delight’!" he said with a grin as he stepped out of the Chamber.
"You’re joking, right?" I asked, climbing out after him. I felt fantastic.
"The body’s cleansing itself," said Doc. "It’s restructuring, flushing out waste, freeing up resources. So stay close to a shower and a toilet. Drink more fluids, don’t skip meals. It’s unpleasant, but perfectly normal."
It might’ve been normal, but how was I supposed to keep an eye on Rahman if it hit me hard? What was I meant to tell her? ‘Sorry, love, I’m watching over you remotely because I can’t trust my own bowels?' Also, how was I supposed to wear my armour? I couldn’t remember any special contraptions on it for bathroom emergencies.
"Well, I guess I’ll study Chain Punch then."
"Two days of rest. No overexertion. No cultivation. Don’t lift anything heavier than a teapot. No techniques."
"Doc!" I pleaded. "Don’t do this to me! No techniques? Do you have any idea how much I’m burning to practise?"
"I don’t just have an idea. I’ve lived through it."
"You’re killing me."
"You’ll live!" he said. Then added, "You can start learning techniques after your next cultivation session in the Chamber. Not before. Until then — rest and adaptation. Let your body settle into the new level."
After I missed my chance to break through the first bottleneck during my first session after reaching it — even though it would've been safe — it was tempting to just do things my way this time. Still, I agreed.Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
63rd place among first-years in the cultivation rankings! And that’s with all my ‘don’ts’ — don’t push, don’t break through, don’t rush. If I had broken through last time... who knows? Maybe I’d be in the top 30.
But I was still on track. I didn’t need to beat everyone — just three-quarters of my year. Burning myself out at the start would’ve been monumentally stupid.
63rd place!
That was bloody brilliant!
When I first woke up in this world and heard how things worked, I thought the Black Lotus School would chew me up and spit me out. But now, I wasn’t just seeing possibilities — they were actually pretty decent ones.
Assuming demons didn’t screw it all up.
Speaking of demons... As Robinson and I left the Meditation Hall, Nur walked in. Alone — no Bulsara around.
I said my goodbyes to Doc and made my way to her.
"Well, should I be congratulating you?" she asked.
"You should," I nodded. "Why are you on your own?"
"My Doc said he’s not here to babysit me." She flicked one of her earrings. "These’ll do the job."
"Good," I nodded. "Want me to wait for you?"
"What for? Planning to carry me home again, my prince? The girls said it was so romantic last time."
I tilted my head. What I remembered looked completely different — I’d nearly died dragging her back to the dorm last time.
"Are you sure you’ll make it on your own this time?"
"No," Nur admitted. "Wait for me."
While she cultivated, I dove into the interface to check what had changed.
First of all — lifespan!
From my very first hours in this world, that 60-year limit had been gnawing at me. This minor breakthrough added another three. Not much, maybe, but still — something! A major breakthrough should add a few decades at least — one more reason to aim for it.
Next: energy — up to 156 from 140. Unfortunately, the breakthrough hadn’t affected my roots. And my health was still stuck at 99/100.
What do I even have to do to get that last point back? I felt like I was running at full capacity! Though that started to shift closer to the end of Nur’s cultivation. My throat suddenly went dry, my bladder felt like it was about to burst, and my gut started twisting up. I actually began shuffling about like I was dancing from impatience.
Nur practically crawled out of the Chamber, but she could still move her feet, so I slung her arm over my shoulder and rushed her back to the dorm — just so I could unload the toxic waste my body had been storing. Judging by the smell, it could’ve passed for industrial runoff from a pig farm, and judging by the burning sensation during the process... a bloody chemical plant!
All that energy I’d been basking in half an hour ago? Gone in an instant. And that’s exactly when one of my fellow assistant supervisors decided to check the rankings and noticed my updated status. Congratulations started pouring into the chat — and I had to respond while doubled over in pain, my body curling into a human pretzel.
My eyes began to water from the sharp cramps, the semi-transparent interface text started to blur, sweat poured down my face... but somehow, I powered through the trial. Bloody hell! Cultivation was supposed to come with blood and sweat — not sweat and shite.
I barely made it back to my room.
"Well?!" Denis asked immediately — but after taking one look at me and catching the scent...
"What the hell is that smell?"
"Toxins," I replied, grabbing a change of clothes. "If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, check the floor of the shower."
I did make it back from the shower on my own two feet — but I didn’t have the strength to go fetch water, so I drank some of the ultra-purified bottled stuff I kept for brewing Clear Thoughts tea. And the moment I downed it — strength returned. Just enough strength… to sprint to the toilet again.
This was so not what I pictured cultivation to be like. There was nothing epic about dissolving your insides in acid. And the misery kept going, off and on, until midnight.
Forget Nur, forget the Garden — I could barely crawl to the cafeteria in the morning! I was in such a state, even Bao took pity on me!
"You really ought to see the medic," he said. "It’s not supposed to be like this. A bit of diarrhea and slight discomfort — that’s normal. But you were running to the loo all night. Could be an injury," he added, stunning me.
After all that, I couldn’t stomach another bite. Somehow, I forced down what was on the tray, told Nur I wouldn’t be keeping her company today, mirrored the message to Bulsara, and headed for the infirmary. Not the reception area — straight to Robinson.
Doc laughed at me. For quite a while.
The good news? No injury.
The second bit of good news? Orphan Jake Sullivan hadn’t exactly had the healthiest life, and his body had built up a ridiculous amount of toxins that couldn’t all be flushed out at once.
The third good news? My expected lifespan had gone up by another three years. Now it was 66, total. There weren’t any bad news. Just that I felt like crap. And even that passed — by lunchtime.
In the afternoon, that post-cultivation surge came back. Still, I didn’t rush to get busy. But the next day, I went to the Garden with Nur.
Honestly, the diarrhea had stopped, and I had so much energy, lifting baskets didn’t even register as work. Naturally, the urge to test my sensitivity under the formation’s dampening mode hit me again...
It worked on the first try. It was one of the weaker techniques — those rapid, long-range strikes that changed trajectory mid-flight — the one I’d never been able to track down in the library.
Didn’t matter anymore, since I’d settled on Chain Punch.
The change in sensitivity didn’t show up in the interface, but it was definitely there. Even the formation felt different now. I only needed a few seconds to activate it or switch modes. At first, I was hesitant to enable hypersensitivity — but curiosity won out and...
Nope, I didn’t throw up.
Quite the opposite — this time my body handled the strain brilliantly, and the world burst into new colours, sounds, even textures. The techniques had developed a sort of... what would you call it... flavour? Tone?
It was a rather unique sensation — one I couldn’t quite decode. And honestly, I wasn’t planning to. Better to rest and prep for tomorrow.
One more day — tomorrow evening I’d have another session in the Chamber — and after that, I’d finally buy Chain Punch and begin learning my first real technique!