Poor Cultivation (The Slayer of Heaven Book 1): A LitRPG Wuxia Series
Page 4
I was taken to a cell divided into two by bulletproof glass—it was like I was a fish in a tank. My mother was sitting in a chair across from me, her eyes swollen and full of tears. She had aged ten years in the span of one day.
I thought she was going to make accusations. She didn’t even look at me…
“I don’t believe you did it,” she whispered, eyes on the floor, surprising me.
My heart sank to my feet. She was the only person who believed in me. Perhaps that was enough not to despair. I tried not to cry, and even managed to smile.
“Mom, it really wasn’t me. Kate can confirm my alibi.”
“Nick,” she said and bit her lip. It took her some time to get the words out. “Forgive me. If it wasn’t for me... If it wasn’t for that fight…”
She buried her face in her hands so that I wouldn’t see her cry.
“Stop it! I’m an adult, I can handle it,” I said even though I didn’t believe in my own words. The world was falling apart and I felt myself falling into the abyss.
“I’m really, really sorry,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t spend much time with you, and you got involved with bad people. I wish I could turn back time, but I can’t…”
She talked and talked, sobbing from time to time, and for the first time in my life, I felt stronger and more mature than her. After a while, she fell silent, sobbing quietly.
“Mom, listen,” I said. “Kate, the girl I’ve mentioned, she’s one of my friends. She was seriously injured and is in a coma now. She’s my only hope. Make sure that they don’t take her off life support; there’s no one to take care of her, she’s an orphan. If she dies, there’ll be no one to confirm my alibi. Thank you... Thank you for believing in me.”
“Is it true what they said about your fingerprints being on the gun?” she asked in a low voice.
“One of the guys brought the guns, and all of us fired it a few times. He set me up. I don’t even know if he was detained, we’re not allowed to see each other. I don’t know anything except that I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You have one more minute,” said a voice over the loudspeaker.
“Nick, I kicked Mario out,” Mom whispered.
Seriously? Well, at least something good came out of this.
“You did the right thing. You deserve better. See you, Ma.”
“I love you very much.” Tears flowed down her cheeks and fell on her blouse, leaving dark spots.
“I love you, too.”
And then she left, leaving me alone in the dimly lit room. After a little while, I was taken to my cell.
Chapter 4
JUSTICE
Forty Days before the Invasion
I had attended a few court sessions but encountered neither Archie nor Meg. I had no clue if Meg was detained or not, but I knew that Archie had been caught. He tried his best to pin the blame on me, and I was doing my best to do the opposite.
There were many people in the courtroom today, so many that it made my head spin. It was all just too much for me to handle. I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole, but I was cornered like a wild animal. The only people I recognized in the crowd were my mother and the state-appointed lawyer. However, I doubted that he could help me, as he had been treating me with disdain through the entire process.
I was wondering if he knew how Kate was doing. However, when I asked him about her, he didn’t so much as spare me a glance.
But after a little while, he said, “Unfortunately, her condition remains unchanged.”
As always, there’s no one I can count on but myself.
The judge came in, and the hubbub died down. I squared my shoulders and leaned forward. By this point, I was all too familiar with the standard procedure of a trial.
The prosecution’s first witness came to the stand. Short and messy, he took his place and I found it hard to recognize Whiskey’s drinking buddy in him. He told the court how he had gone to his friend’s place to celebrate his divorce. How there had been a knock on the door, and how Whiskey (whose real name was Donald) went to open it and didn’t come back. There were sounds of a struggle, so he decided to grab a gun.
The prosecutor with a hooked nose nodded in my direction.
“You know this young man?”
“You’re asking if he shot at me? Hell if I know, they were wearing bandanas,” the man answered, squinting in my direction.
“Which one of them had the gun?”
“The girl and one of the guys... As I’ve said, they had bandanas. I shot at them and then I felt a burning sensation... I looked down, and there was blood...”
The prosecutor raised his hand. “That’s enough, thank you.”
The second witness—an unknown, plump woman—was called to the stand and gave her statement. I didn’t immediately realize that she was talking about John Crowley.
“I remember him complaining that Liz lost her mind and was going out with a shady guy. We didn’t see each other for a while after that. And then the police called...” Voice trembling, she sobbed as soon as she stopped talking.
“What else did he say about his daughter’s boyfriend?” the prosecutor asked. “Did you see him?”
The woman glanced at me and shook her head.
“No, I didn’t. I’ve told that to the police many times. I just want whoever did that to them punished. My little brother had such a wonderful family!” Her eyes filled with tears, and she hid her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with angry sobs.
Mom bit her lip, staring at the floor. The chairs around her were empty, as if people knew that she was the mother of the young maniac.
“Prosecution calls the next witness to the stand—Chuck Clayton.”
Who the hell is that?
Handcuffed and unnaturally pale, Archie was brought into the courtroom. The look he gave me made me go numb. He had lost weight; his cheeks were sunken and there were dark circles around his eyes. He looked even more like a maniac without his long hair. It was only now that I noticed that he had almost no eyebrows.
Nick, you’re a real sucker! whispered a voice in my head. How come you didn’t notice it before? You must have been really dumb to consider him a friend. You’re an idiot for putting your trust in him...
Archie pretended not to notice me. He sat down and looked straight ahead. Trying to look trustworthy and honest, he took the oath. Couldn’t they see that he was a monster?
Of course not. He’s pretty good at hiding his true self.
“Tell us, what’s your connection to the accused?”
Still not looking at me, Archie began his story.
“When I came to town, I met Kate, who introduced me to Nick. This was in August last year. Nick was a subway pickpocket and he suggested that we work together. The plan was simple: we’d distract people while he picked their pockets.”
I couldn’t sit still; my fist was opening and closing impatiently.
God, what a freak.
According to him, we have our own gang, said a voice, whose owner had glistening teeth and dark, malicious eyes.
Archie continued, “Nick told me that he was seeing a girl, and that he was going to bring her over for Christmas.”
“What was the girl’s name?”
“I’m not sure. Elizabeth, I think, but he usually called her Minnie. But then something changed in him. He became angry and withdrawn, and we even got into a serious fight. I can’t remember what it was about, something trivial... We used to fight a lot back then. He was gone for three days, and then he returned looking even more depressed...”
“When was that exactly?”
“On Christmas Eve. Nick hasn’t said anything about Minnie since, so I thought they broke up...”
“That’s a lie!” My voice was hoarse with emotion. I jumped up and slammed my hands on the table. “Archie, you bastard! I swear, you’ll pay for all of this! He’s behind all of this! He brought the guns so that we’d leave our fingerprints on them! I’m not
guilty! I didn’t kill anyone!”
The crowd started murmuring and whispering. The judge opened his mouth, but I didn’t hear a word he said. My helpless rage and misery had turned me deaf. They pushed me back into my chair. I was breathing heavily and my ears were thudding; I wanted to kill someone and tear everything apart.
“Can’t you see that he’s crazy?” Archie asked, bringing me back to reality.
The jury looked at each other and squinted at me. Mom shouted something, but I couldn’t make out the words. Pushing people aside, she ran to the judge. The cops stopped her, and she hung on them, crying.
This is it... I’ve ruined everything. There’s no fixing this...
There really isn’t, answered a calm voice.
I glanced at Archie and saw that he was staring at me. As soon as our eyes met, he shifted his gaze to my mother and then looked away again.
In an even, loud voice, the judge rescheduled the hearing. I sighed deeply; I felt empty inside. Only in movies did the good guys win. Only in movies were the police looking for the real criminals.
Back in my cell, I flopped down on my bunk and lay motionless for what seemed like an eternity. I craved sleep, but I couldn’t get Archie’s face out of my head. He kept saying, “Can’t you see that he’s crazy?”
The world was unfair, everybody knew that. However, my mind refused to accept the inevitable and was trying to come up with a solution to an unsolvable problem. How do I fix this? How?
“Nicholas Wright, you have a visitor.”
“Who?”
“No idea. Get up!”
The guard led me not to the visiting room but further down the hallway. An Indian man with a thick beard joined us, and we continued to the administrative building. After a while, we entered a bright, spacious office. Seated at the large table was a slender brunette in her mid-forties. Her hair was tied in a neat bun and her legs were crossed. Pushing her glasses up her nose, she scanned me from head to toe.
The Indian man pulled up a chair and I sat down in front of the brunette. As we walked, I didn’t see if he had a gun. However, every bone in my body was telling me that this man was dangerous, and that he’d break my neck if I so much as looked at him wrong.
I was wondering who this was. An investigator? Another relative of the people Archie killed?
“Good evening, Nicholas. Well, not so good for you...”
“Is it good for you?”
“Don’t get cocky, boy,” she said indifferently. “You and I both know your situation.”
“What do you want from me?”
She pretended not to hear my question and continued, “Your friend Kate died two hours ago. We waited until the last moment—you can’t avoid jail now. How much do you think you’ll get?”
“Months or years, it’s all mine. Although if you want, I can share.”
“Audacity is the weapon of the weak, Nicholas. If I were you, I’d be smarter.”
“Then you’re lucky that you ain’t in my shoes.”
She shook her head. “Oh, luck has nothing to do with it. I’m where I am thanks to the choices that I’ve made.”
She looked like a professor or a scientist, but my gut was telling me that she was even more dangerous than the man behind me.
“My name is Zara.”
“Nicholas Wright. What do you want from me? To get me out of here? Help me if you know that I’m not guilty.”
“I don’t know if you’re as innocent as you claim to be, but I’m sure that you’ve been wrongly accused. But that’s only my opinion, it won’t affect the court’s decision. You’ve heard about Jeff Weiner’s law, right?”
Her question made me frown. “Who hasn’t?”
“So you know that teens age sixteen and up will be treated as adults in court. You street punks know all about it. This law was necessary due to the economic downturn—there’re too many of you. The mafia runs the city centers, and the outskirts have turned into a lawless wasteland.”
“Whoa, back it up, lady,” I interrupted. “Better tell me what you’re doing here.”
“I told you this so you wouldn’t expect leniency. The cops are mad at you and the detective hates you. He did everything in his power to make sure that you get the short end of the stick. Plus, the cops have an opportunity to close an old case—journalists wrote a lot about that mass murder. So, you’ll remain in prison for a very, very long time, Nicholas Wright... That is, if you don’t accept my offer. It’s in your best interests to cooperate.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“Three months of work, and you’ll be free.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
Three months versus decades in prison...That sounds... incredible.
“Three months...” I repeated in bewilderment.
“Should I tell you more?”
“Sure!”
“You need to participate in an experiment. I think you’ll thank me when it’s over. Believe me when I say that you’ll come out a different person.”
“What. Will. I. Need. To. Do?” I asked, feeling my heart pounding and my cheeks burning. “What are the risks? What kind of experiment?”
I imagined a laboratory and a body splayed on a table, surrounded by people in white coats with scalpels. I shuddered at the thought.
“A neural network will be installed in your brain. Don’t worry, there’s no drilling involved, or anything similar, for that matter. This’ll be an installation, not an implantation, that is, without surgery. The next step is field testing; during this stage, changes in your condition will be monitored. Don’t get cocky and think that you’re special, you’re not. This isn’t the first series of experiments. The risk of damage is minimal, but still existent. Usually, everything goes well. But not always. That’s why the offer seems so, uh, good. We pay for the risk.”
She took out a cigarette, lit it, and turned to her friend. “Take off his handcuffs and let him rest.”
Is she playing the good cop? Look, this can work in our favor, a voice said.
While I was having my cuffs removed, Zara continued, “If you agree, you’ll be sent to a place called The Island, where you can... live, to put it like that. You’ll be free to do whatever you want. You’ll have access to weapons and tools, and you’ll even have comrades. Once the three months are up, you’ll return home with a new name and past. There’ll be no more Nicholas Wright. It’ll be up to you to decide who and what you’re going to be.”
“I need details and time to think,” I said.
Zara observed me for a couple of moments through a cloud of smoke. Then she nodded.
“Okay, you have until tomorrow. I’ll bring you the contract in the morning, and we’ll go over the details. That’s all I can give you.”
She then got up and went to the window. She had her back turned to the light so her face was in the shadow. I could only see her silhouette in a dark jacket and a pencil skirt.
The fresh air made my head spin and lungs burn. I took a deep breath. For the first time in many days, I felt there was hope...
Hope for what? inquired a cold voice.
Chapter 5
THE ISLAND
When we got into the convertiplane, my handcuffs were removed. The man in the helmet pointed at four iron chairs separated from the cargo hold and said, “Go join the others.”
Out of the fire and into the frying pan. Did I do the right thing signing that damn contract?
Inside, separated by bars, were two young men—a bald, dark-skinned big guy, and a shifty Asian with glasses. I went deeper in, observing cardboard boxes marked “fragile cargo,” and past military personnel dragging black plastic boxes into the hold. I sat down next to the Asian guy and looked at him.
He looked back at me, glanced around, and whispered, “I’m Rio. And you?”
“Nick.”
“Did you also sign the contract? What did they promise you?”
“To be free in three months and some really vag
ue responsibilities.”
He lifted his right forefinger. “You’re absolutely right. Very vague... What if they dissect us like animals?” He bit his nail anxiously. “We don’t know a thing about that neural network.”
“I don’t know about you, but I didn’t really have a choice: it was either forty years in prison or this. It’s risky, but it’s better than rotting in jail.”
“Forty years in prison?” He let out a long sigh and looked at me in horror. “I’m a minor. My guardians sent me here.”
“How so? You’re here voluntarily? So you’re not a prisoner?”
He shook his head. “They want to make me a superhuman. They were promised that my mind would open up and that I’d gain superpowers. But I think that...” He sighed and looked at us with sadness in his eyes. “That they’ve been lied to.”
“You got that right!” the other guy chuckled. “I’m Eli. Hey... Nick, right? Sit next to me, away from that nerd. Can’t you see that he’s crazy? Fucking Jap!”
“Moron, I’m Chinese!”
“Fuck it, you’re all the same! Ha-ha!”
I was in no hurry to accept his offer. And even though Rio didn’t seem comfortable with sitting next to criminals, his presence gave me hope—it wasn’t just deviants who were being sent to The Island, but normal people, too.
“What do you know about neural networks?” I asked.
Eli looked at Rio, who shifted restlessly in his seat.
“Are they going to put something in our brains? Or will we be connected to something?” Eli asked. He stopped looking at me, and was now slowly rubbing his head with his right hand.
Rio’s nervous giggle sounded like hiccupping.
“You know, they probably aren’t gonna dissect us. I think we’ll have a program installed into our brains. I was told that it’d change both our mind and our bodies. Experiments have already been conducted, and some of them were quite successful.”
There was uncertainty in Rio’s voice, and I had to once again convince myself that I had made the right choice.
But what if the place that awaits us is worse than prison?