Street Cultivation 3

by Sarah Lin

  He took a brisk ride back to central Branton, enjoying the wind rushing past him and refocusing. His preparations for the Unlimited Defensive Ring were ongoing, but he risked over-training if he pushed at the moment. Another tiny bit of strength wouldn't be as important as better preparation.

  By the time he reached the Branton Public Library, Rick was feeling far better. The action of jumping off his bike and retracting it into his pocket came as second nature by now. He walked up to the fortified building at a brisk pace, then set about looking through the stacks for Heather.

  Only after not finding her for several minutes did it really occur to him that he didn't need to contact his favorite librarian. She might be in charge of the rare texts, but one of his goals was just simple research. He went to one of the computers and keyed in the books that Adsila had recommended him, figuring out where they were and collecting them easily enough.

  They might not be thrilling reading, but her recommendations seemed like good ones for giving him a better view of the Showdown. As good as the internet was for most kinds of research, an organized treatment by someone qualified still had significant value.

  "Rick?" Abruptly Heather was in the same row, brushing a tattooed hand through bright purple hair. "Fuckin' A, it is you! Haven't seen you here in a hell of a long time."

  "Uh, yeah. I got a new job out of town." Best not to mention that it was only a little bit out of town. Rick smiled and tucked his current book under his arm. "Good to see you again, Heather."

  "Fuck yeah. You need me to help you find things?"

  "I've got the normal books I was after, but I was wondering if you might help me with some research. I'm trying to get completely prepared for the Showdown. I've looked online, but I was wondering if you had any restricted information only available in the library system?"

  Heather let out a long whistle. "The Showdown, eh? Damn. Pretty soon you'll be rubbing shoulders with the Peerless, I suppose."

  "You too?" Rick realized that comment was incomprehensible and pushed forward. "You're the second person who's brought up the old world powers like they're important recently. Am I just entirely out of touch? I don't pay a ton of attention to politics, but the Peerless never come up. I wasn't even sure they were all still around, to be honest."

  "Oh, they're still around. Some say they're obsolete, and it's true they don't define the world the way the major powers did centuries ago. But there are an equal number of people who think that they're still controlling the world from the shadows."

  "Why bother ruling from the shadows? The CLO is openly in charge of the Global Lucrim Authority."

  "I didn't say they were smart conspiracy theorists." Heather regarded him with a strange look, then shook her head. "I figured you'd be up on all that shit, Rick. Keeping track of the most powerful people in the entire world seems like the sort of thing you fighter types would be into."

  Rick threw up his hands. "What's the point when they're just obscenely stronger than I'll ever be? That'd be like a pilot keeping tabs on Jupiter."

  "You mean you don't want to be Lion of Qin when you grow up?"

  "I don't even know what she does, other than keeping China a world power."

  "I think you may have been a victim of our shitty public education system." Heather raised her eyebrows, still with that odd expression. "I'm not going to throw remedial reading at you, but I think you might be interested. The Peerless Nonaggression Pact might keep them out of the public eye, but they're still essential to world politics. Any nation that doesn't have one of the Peerless, or at least the next best thing, is a third world nation by default."

  The truth was that Rick didn't pay a lot of attention to world politics, either, but he didn't want to look ignorant in front of Heather. Instead he tried to ask questions that would get him a bit more perspective without looking stupid. He wondered if Lisa had opinions on the subject, but he'd never asked her. In any case, Heather's opinions on the world were as profane as his family's, though much better informed.

  Rick wasn't entirely sure why the five Peerless went along with the Pact, and Heather didn't get into those details. That was obvious stuff, he'd just thought it was only historical information. He actually hadn't known how many fighters there were below the Peerless, he'd just always assumed that any developed country probably had one to act as a deterrent in addition to the black ops squads that did the actual fighting.

  Apparently there were eleven, or twelve depending on how certain nations were counted. Rick wondered about the potential for other fighters of equal strength who weren't affiliated with a nation, but Heather seemed to imply that if they existed, they weren't relevant to global politics. That seemed fairly true, though he found himself thinking of Teragen and wondering if the overpowering man rated on such a scale.

  He was actually curious to learn more, but realized that he was wasting Heather's time. Rick asked her for access to the restricted section to look up a few texts on defensive strategies in the upcoming event. Heather guided him there quickly enough, but looked over her shoulder at him as she unlocked the door.

  "If you do actually get into the Showdown, Rick, I hope you'll remember the libraries."

  "What?" He shook himself past his dull reaction and focused on what she meant. "You said all that and didn't even hint that there's some connection between the Showdown and the public library system?"

  "There's no connection, and that's the problem. I have nothing against the Showdown itself, or you participating in it." Heather took a deep breath, both hands toying with her ring of keys. "But the people behind the Showdown are generally the old sects, big corporations, immortals, and generally everyone who's opposed to knowledge being free. Wars were fought to make this much knowledge available to everyone."

  "And you think I'll just get so wrapped up in the Showdown that I turn against libraries? How could I, after all you've done for me and my sister?"

  "That wasn't an abstract statement, Rick. If you stay in the Showdown, we could use more patrons to keep us in business. If you decide to leave... well, some of the information given to the competitors includes secrets the public library system has never been able to acquire. We would compensate you for them."

  Rick stared at her, trying to figure out if she could possibly have just said what he'd heard. He got a clear answer when Heather turned to smile at him.

  "Yeah, I did just fucking say that. What's a little industrial espionage between friends, right?"

  All he could do was shake his head. "If you're saying it basically in public like this, it can't be too serious."

  "There's nothing illegal about it. The problem is that those who finally reach the heights of the Showdown tend to kick down the ladders behind them. So just... remember us, alright?" Heather gestured over her shoulder at the restricted section. "Well, it's up to you. Go nuts."

  He thanked her quietly, trying to decide if this changed anything. The conflict around the libraries was another piece of life he'd always considered a historical fact, not a present reality. Technically what Heather was asking him was just to make a donation to the library system. Plenty of rich people or prestigious sects did that, getting things named after them.

  But now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember very many giving them secret techniques. In fact, the only examples that came to mind were dying sects who wanted their skills to live on, or occasionally as a desperate promotional bid from a faction that was becoming irrelevant. The idea that he could have something they wanted... Rick shook the thoughts off and focused on his research.

  It took him nearly an hour to gather several books he thought were relevant, leaving him with a filled backpack of reading material. That would be way more reading than he normally did, but hopefully it would leave him prepared for what he was getting into. The abruptly serious conversation with Heather left him less certain.

  When he was finished, Rick found himself lingering, not wanting to move on just yet. He sat in one of the chairs, in
the nook Melissa had always used for her research. Instead of starting the daunting pile of books, he just began fiddling with his phone, looking up more about what Heather had said.

  As he had expected, once he got out of his usual ring of sites focused on practical lucrim, he found lots of people who seemed to view it as entertainment. Most of them struck him as armchair fighters with little idea of what they were actually talking about. He definitely saw errors and misunderstandings when they discussed advanced lucrim technique.

  Still, even if they were basically just sports fans who liked a particular violent sport, they were fans of something he was about to enter. And whatever their errors when it came to details, they had a far better understanding of the global situation than he did.

  Few of them used the term "Peerless" and he had to admit it was a bad name for a group of five peers. The dominant attitude seemed to be that the old titles and systems were too disorganized, so many used the popular American weight classes. There were arguments about it, particular those who preferred the Siberian or Chinese ranking system, but Rick focused on what he knew best.

  In most combat sports, the highest class was heavyweight, or sometimes super heavyweight. But unquestionably beyond that class lay a tier known as the dragonweights, warriors so powerful they were national or corporate assets. There were only around a dozen in the world, though users speculated that there might be four or five more who weren't affiliated with any nation. The exact strength of specific public figures was much debated, but Rick didn't particularly care.

  Beyond them all lay the five godweights.

  Just thinking about the level of power they must wield left Rick numb. There was no question their lucrim generation rates would be in the millions, but how much higher? The numbers might as well be imaginary, for all they mattered to his life.

  Rick tried to remind himself that they didn't matter to the lives of many other people. People online debated whether the new World Sculptor was really as strong as the others, but the godweights never fought one another. If a fight between the Chief Lucrim Officer and the Demonic Legionnaire would lead to mutually assured destruction, did the minor differences matter?

  That became even more pronounced when it came to the dragonweights. It was generally agreed by the obsessive rankers that the dragonweight in India was weaker than the one in Japan. Yet Japan's economy was declining due to an aging population, while India's was exploding. Having a human nuke got them both a seat at the negotiation table, but beyond that exact strength didn't seem relevant to him.

  Or maybe it was sour grapes to think about people that powerful. Rick shook his head violently and forced himself back to his feet. If he was going to refocus and get anything done, he needed a change of setting. The library was too tangled up with all this new research.

  Instead he headed toward Eastpark. Since he spent all his time in nature at the Peakless Wildlife Refuge, the park was no longer much of a novelty. But it might be nice to visit again, especially since he'd done some critical preparation for other important events there.

  Because none of the rest mattered at all if he failed out of the qualifying rounds.

  Just biking to the park cleared his head a bit. Rick arrived and found it pleasantly filled with various people, but he wandered to his usual place. To his surprise, he spotted Lisa sitting on a picnic blanket, drinking from a thermos. He found himself smiling and headed toward her. Though he'd continued to do a few experiments to help her developing business, they hadn't spoken much lately.

  "Hey, Lisa!" Rick spoke up as he approached and was glad to see Lisa immediately smile broadly when she saw him. Her expression faded slightly the next moment.

  "Hello, Rick. I haven't seen you in a while."

  "Sorry, but work at the Refuge has been keeping me busy. I don't get into town as much as I used to." He shook his head, regretting how they'd drifted apart. "We used to train together all the time. I'm sorry that we've-"

  "Rick, I'm actually here with someone." She spoke quietly, almost apologetically, but the words cut straight into him. Rick couldn't find the right words to say before he saw Lisa's attention shift. When he turned to look, he saw a young well-dressed man about their age approaching with a basket. "Trenton, this is the Rick I told you about."

  "He finally appears!" Trenton shifted the basket to his other arm to extend a hand and Rick shook it on pure autopilot. "So you're the one responsible for giving Lisa such a freakishly strong lucrima soul, huh? I could use some training myself, actually."

  "I'm... still figuring out the next step for me." Rick hesitated, a sense of shame stealing up on him. The two of them both looked put together, like they knew what they were doing with their lives. Lisa started to open her mouth and he saw just a hint of concern in her eyes, and that was too much. "Sorry to interrupt, Lisa, just wanted to say hi. You two have a lovely day."

  They sent farewells after him as he fled from the park. Rick's mind should have been flooded with angry thoughts, yet he found that all of them fell away. Maybe if he'd made different decisions things could have gone differently with Lisa, but he'd screwed it up.

  All that mattered was winning in the Unlimited Defense Ring.

  Chapter 8: Unlimited Defensive Ring

  When eight days had elapsed, Rick was... there. He wasn't sure if he was ready, but he was physically present. The stadium was nothing like the chaos of the early qualifying days, now filled only with those who had received invitations to specific events. There weren't many in the stands, but he thought the factions were slightly larger than they had been before.

  He arrived too early, witnessing the end of the Aura Throwing event. Though not as overpowering as some of those he'd seen earlier, the contestants hurled lances of aura that looked plenty lethal to him. According to his Showdown research, Aura Throwing was a long-standing traditional event. Technically the contestants could throw aura in any form, but generations of athletes had proved that the thin lance was the best form for the concentrated power the event judged.

  As the lancers finished throwing, another part of the field was cleared for the Unlimited Defensive Ring. He'd actually seen it before, the familiar pair of rings. A man called the beginning of the event and Rick had a nervous moment where he wondered if he was supposed to go up, as he hadn't seen any kind of order.

  But apparently it was more haphazard than that. One of the other fighters loitering around, a short but immensely muscular man in a cheap combat suit, walked forward into the center of the ring. Several potential strikers moved closer to the outer ring and Rick joined them, though he didn't plan to try to eliminate anyone. The official made a note and announced the start of the event, but otherwise stepped back.

  "Come at me!" As soon as he got into the center of the ring, the man thumped his chest and glared at the crowd. "If you think you can bring down the Abs of Ultimate Steel, you have another thing coming!"

  As soon as the official had announced the beginning, a timer had begun running on the scoreboard. Rick had read that intimidation and delays could be an important part of the event, which proved clear as no one moved immediately. It would have struck him as unfair, except that the person who stayed in the ring for the longest period of time wasn't automatically the winner.

  Soon enough a challenger stepped into the outer ring. As soon as he entered, he had six seconds to do whatever he could to dislodge the man at the center. The first challenger lunged forward in a split second and began with a simple punch to the chest. His muscular opponent merely took it head on, grunting as a series of blows rained down on him.

  At their speed of combat, many blows fit into six seconds, but they did no good. Just when Rick was thinking the time had elapsed, he was startled by a ripple of aura speeding out from the center, pushing away the challenger. He had read there was some sort of method to enforce the timer, but he'd figured it would be a buzzer or something.

  "Ha! You think that will bring me down?" The muscular man struck his chest again
and sneered.

  Without warning a foot hit him in the side of the head. The man staggered, nearly stepping out of the central circle, but barely recovered. His opponent had flashed in faster than Rick could see, presumably using a technique like the Bunyan's Step. This time the challenger pressed his opponent harder, forcing him to brace himself in defense.

  Rick watched the combat with some interest, but he wasn't sure how it related to the actual event. Clearly the first round had been more impressive, since the contestant had merely stood and ignored the blows. But how much less valuable was the current round of blocking?

  When the six seconds elapsed, the second attacker was swept away. The muscular man grimaced and nearly touched the side of his head before he shook himself and sneered again. "Is that all?"

  "You call those the Abs of Ultimate Steel, huh?" A man stepped up to the edge of the circle and Rick blinked in surprise: though he wore ordinary pants, he draped what looked like an actual wolf fur around his neck. With his hair shaggy and unkempt, he looked like he'd walked out of the wilderness. "Let's see how they last against my Beast Claw."

  The posturing was only racking up time on the clock, leading Rick to wonder if that was a viable tactic. Then again, it seemed like no one really cared about anything except the number of six second rounds endured. Whoever the wolf-furred man was, he was obviously hoping to attract attention as a challenger.

  When he entered, his advance was startlingly quick. In the time it took Rick to blink, the wild man had swung a claw-like hand... and the muscular man staggered backward, lines of blood exploding from his chest. He barely managed to catch himself, but the next attack came just as viciously, tearing through his stomach and knocking him to the ground.

  As soon as he collapsed, the clock stopped. Rick was relieved to see that medical professionals including a lucrim healer went to remove the fallen competitor. His gaze turned to the clock, which sat at 45.31 seconds. It had felt much longer.