Street Cultivation 3

by Sarah Lin

  He saw why H had started him with juggling. That didn't stop him from still being thrown into the fire.

  When he was too burned to keep training, Rick tugged off the blindfold and dropped into a seated position. "So is this technique useless unless I see an attack coming?" he asked. "Because there are plenty of people out there faster than me, and some techniques can literally travel at the speed of light."

  "When you fully master the technique, it will absorb everything that gets near you." H shook his head slowly. "The Midas Foundation would still be more idiot-friendly, but I knew you would need something that worked automatically. But you're not there yet."

  "Wait a minute. If the final version will absorb everything that gets close, why am I training so hard on using it directionally?"

  H scoffed. "You think this is some mythical technique that will just magically absorb any attack whatsoever? Of course not. It's made of lucrim and aura, so it can be broken by lucrim or aura. When you run into someone truly strong, you'll want to have mastered every component of the technique."

  "I figured as much." Rick rubbed his shoulder where one ember had burned particularly deep. "But that actually had me wondering. We're investing a lot of time and lucrim into something that's essentially just another defense. I assume that it's better specialized to deal with ranged attacks, or there'd be no point. But what if we just poured everything into defense? How much could I endure?"

  "It wouldn't be the worst strategy in the world. You've seen that defense counts for a lot. But it wouldn't be the best, either. Do you think that you're going to have more lucrim invested than every opponent you'll ever face in your life?"

  "Obviously not. So what's the advantage?"

  "The advantage is the failure state. This specialized Lucore won't absorb everything, but some of what it can't absorb, it could redirect away from you. And if it's overloaded, the sphere will collapse without harming you. Much, anyway. If your over-sized defensive core fails, those attacks are taking a toll on your body."

  "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." Rick lifted the ranged sphere and floated it around his palm. "If you're giving out secrets that you've been withholding for no reason-"

  "The reason is not wanting to overload your thuggish mind."

  "Then why not explain what I actually do with all this energy the Lucore absorbs? I've already tried absorbing it into myself and that doesn't work at all. Can it be thrown back at my opponent?"

  "That is... actually a weakness of the Triune Golden Spheres." H hesitated, which was so uncharacteristic for him that Rick narrowed his eyes. "There are techniques that can absorb and return attacks, yes. But they tend to require extreme focus, so they couldn't be built into a compound technique like this. Aura attacks you absorb are converted to pure force, then released when the sphere starts to fail."

  "What, creating a shockwave all around me?" Rick wasn't sure, but he thought he was getting a lot better at the fundamental construction of Lucores. He was glad to see H nod without throwing in any insults.

  "Correct. It's a desperation move, but it would only appear when you're desperate. And most importantly, it works automatically. So once your mind is capable of handling the full Triune Golden Spheres at once..."

  "...I have multiple layers of defenses all working subconsciously," Rick finished. "That makes sense. It's a brilliant choice, really. What was so much better about the Midas Foundation?"

  "Bah. You snubbed it, so why do you care? Get up, there's more training to be done."

  Over the coming weeks, Rick managed to slowly utilize the full technique. By now, juggling with the resistance spheres was easy, which made it effortless to rotate the Triune Golden Spheres within him. He was still mentally focusing on each one and switching as they were necessary, but he thought he was getting closer. Sometimes when an attack came at him from behind, he absorbed it without thinking, without even being aware that he'd noticed it.

  Still, doing it in training was different from doing it in reality. H enrolled him in several less competitive events and even had him help with the qualifying rounds for new contestants. Rick earned no seals and didn't even win any victories, but that was never the point. His only goal was to use the Triune Golden Spheres in actual combat, and through painful mistakes, he was growing used to it.

  Yet even though Rick met a huge number of competitors during all the events, he barely remembered any of them. Most of them would fail, and even those who were inducted into the Showdown would probably participate in different events. Anyone local to New Zealand he wouldn't have a chance to see again for years, so it felt pointless to get to know them.

  Unfortunately, that was true of most people he met. Traveling the world while having only temporary acquaintances struck Rick as sad, and he often found himself falling back on familiar relationships. Melissa was busy, but their texts gave him life. He enjoyed talking to Lisa, though she seemed even more formal and guarded than before. If she needed that distance, he wouldn't argue.

  Given a few extra hours, Rick reached out a little further. He got in touch with Uncle Frank, which was a fun conversation, and arranged for a future visit. Not all the details were certain, but it seemed that everyone could be in Vietnam at the same time. Beyond that, he made contact with Adsila and Wemilat again, only to find out that they'd been following his exploits. Finally he sent a couple emails to Damian, though he didn't get any response.

  The trip to Siberia was getting closer, so Rick began to pack his things. It didn't take long, as he'd barely moved out of his suitcase. But while sorting through the new training items and finding a place for Lisa's box of serum, his bike chip fell out. Rick ran his fingers over the dark chip, realizing how long it had been since he'd gone biking. Even though he went everywhere by taxi or private vehicle now, he missed it.

  As they ran out of training time, Rick looked at the Triune Golden Spheres one more time and was surprised by how much progress he'd made.

  [Triune Golden Spheres: 53,750

  - Defensive Sphere: 25,000

  - Absorption Sphere: 11,250

  - Sensory Sphere: 17,500]

  Just over 25,000 lucrim gained... that was a huge advancement, almost like getting a Birthright Core. Yet in a strange way, despite all the pain and suffering he'd gone through for them, they didn't feel his. The crystal spheres floated in his lucrima soul, yes, but they didn't feel part of him like his true Lucores. Maybe that would change as he grew used to the technique, but it left him with an odd dissatisfaction that no amount of success could shake.

  On their very last day, H invited him outside the training complex and they sparred atop a gorgeous mountain range. It wasn't a very intense sparring match and H didn't use his embers, so it was actually relaxing. Rick enjoyed himself, letting his expanded senses slide over the mountains all around him as they fought.

  It did become more intense in the end, a fierce hand to hand bout atop a rocky outcropping. Rick was surprised to find that he was actually winning, and he wasn't sure that H was holding back. Of course, if the other man was fighting seriously he would have stayed at a distance and used embers, but still. His strength matching up to his mentor's weakness was no small thing. For the first time in his life, Rick actually felt strong.

  When they finished, he sat down on the edge and looked out over the rolling landscape. H stood nearby, characteristically silent, and Rick eventually decided he had to ask.

  "Why end like this? You haven't been much for relaxation before."

  "You could use the break." H didn't criticize like usual, instead staring over the horizon with a strange expression. "Because tomorrow we go to Siberia."

  Chapter 24: Entering Siberia

  After following the Showdown through four different countries, Rick thought that he knew how everything went. For all the differences in culture and climate, the modern world had flattened the process of traveling. They always flew into a major city, their Showdown cards allowing them to skip customs, and went straight to a
training facility.

  Not so in Siberia.

  Rick had ignored their flight path to focus on training the Triune Golden Spheres when warnings suddenly blared from the cockpit. He leapt to his feet automatically, but saw H shake his head. A voice announced some sort of warning in what Rick assumed was Russian, then their helicopter changed direction and began heading down.

  "The Greater Siberian Domain has excellent border security," H explained. "It's just a bit blunt about everything. They need to approve our entry and give us government-issued identification. Just cooperate and it will all be over quickly."

  Imagining cavity searches, Rick did his best not to get too concerned as they landed. When they stepped out of the helicopter, it appeared to be in a desolate snowfield with nothing but a small airport nearby. Several soldiers awaited them, wearing military uniforms with white camouflage and more fur than normal. The leader stepped forward and examined them skeptically.

  "Showdown, yes? That way." His accent was thick, but the finger stabbing toward one of the buildings was clear enough. As they walked, surrounded by a military escort, Rick shifted closer to H.

  "Surely they can't do this for everyone."

  "Obviously not, though the normal borders are tight as well." One of the soldiers glowered at them, but talking must be allowed, because H glared right back at her, then continued. "But anyone who is rated as over a certain threat level is treated differently. As Showdown participants, we're automatically on that list. I took this route to get us through faster."

  As they walked the biting cold began to get through even Rick's defensive cores, but fortunately they were escorted directly into the building. He hadn't realized how loud the wind had been until it was suddenly gone, the silence within the building surreal.

  Within, he saw a gate that reminded him of an airport terminal with a severe-looking man awaiting them on the other side of ether-reinforced glass. Or maybe that was a friendly expression for Siberia. H led them forward and nudged Rick to get out his card. After examining their identification, however, the man only grunted and held out a hand.

  "Lucrim portfolios?"

  Rick started to get out his phone, only to have the man shake his head severely. Meanwhile, H had revealed a circular metal plate that was accepted by a scanner. When Rick looked toward H for explanation, he just nodded back to the official.

  "Siberia does not acknowledge the measurements or rankings of outside nations," the official said flatly. He regarded Rick with pale eyes, then pointed toward a different line. "You must be evaluated and granted an official measurement."

  That seemed harmless enough to cooperate with, so Rick nodded and followed his instructions. Another soldier standing on guard opened a gate for him, allowing him to step into another room. There was a large metal panel on the floor with several metal arms arcing around it, reminding him of some sort of standing dental chair.

  A technician spoke to him in Russian, but the gesture was clear enough. Rick went to stand in the center where he saw two symbols for feet. Immediately the mechanical arms began to move around him, some revealing ends that looked uncomfortably stabby, but none got close to him. He could feel some technique poking at his lucrima soul, based on aura but not quite an attack. His instinct was still to try to absorb it, but he doubted that would be well-received.

  "Good. Now brace self. Defensive cores." The instructions came a moment before a tall metal bar began emitting blinding red light. Rick instinctively raised both his defenses as he felt the light burn into him. This one could well have been an attack for most, though it wasn't enough to scathe him. He could only hope they had modulated its strength based on their first measurements.

  Then it seemed he was done. Rick was ushered through a different door back into the main line, where he was glad to see H for once. There he filled out a bit of paperwork, thankfully in English, and was then handed a metal circle similar to the one he had seen before. It had his name and an ID number printed directly into the metal, but he was more interested in the symbols at the center.

  It was clearly the Siberian equivalent of the American ether tier system. Rick had vaguely known that the same ratings agencies didn't operate for the whole world, but it hadn't been relevant until that point. This system was rather blunt:

  [Strength: 79,000

  Rank: Junior Fighter

  Affiliation: Showdown Guest - Third Class]

  Though the new system immediately interested him, Rick decided that it would just be a distraction. It didn't matter how they measured his strength, only what he could do. The "Third Class" designation made him wonder about the others, but it was all useless without anything to compare.

  Fortunately, the whole process wasn't drawn out and they were soon escorted out of the other side of the building, then back to their helicopter. H was already finished and waiting, saying a few words to the soldiers before gesturing for him to follow. No one came after them as they walked the final distance to the helicopter, though Rick couldn't stop himself from looking back.

  "They'll just let us go now?"

  "They don't like to waste time in Siberia." H made a gesture to lower the ramp, then glanced down at him while they waited. "And they don't need to. Not having your identification badge is a major crime here, even for visitors. The badge itself has a unique ether signature built into it connected to your profile. So everyone will know who you are. And obviously the government can track you."

  Rick frowned. "No privacy?"

  "They don't really consider that a major value here."

  "In that case... I want to see your ID."

  "Why should I let you?" H turned away from him and walked up the ramp, which instantly began to retract, forcing Rick to scramble to enter.

  Once he was inside, however, he decided that he wouldn't be put off so easily. If the badges allowed anyone to access information, then H's badge wouldn't be private either. Rick tried to extend both his normal senses and his enhanced ones out toward the older man, but got nothing out of the ordinary.

  Yet with his new observation Lucore, he sensed a faint thread tying him to his own badge. There must be another one connecting H... yes, there it was. They appeared artificial, an element of technology as opposed to anything more spiritual. If that was the case, perhaps he needed to use his own badge...

  Getting it back out of his pocket, Rick pursued the connection, then focused toward H. It worked surprisingly quickly and letters of aura appeared on the back side of his badge:

  [Strength: 127,000

  Rank: Foreign Trainer

  Affiliation: Showdown Guest - Second Class]

  No name, though he assumed the government could get that information. Perhaps that was considered less important than a person's strength out here. Though Rick was intrigued by the difference in their rated strength, which wasn't as high as he expected, he reminded himself that it didn't really matter.

  "You figured it out?" H glanced over at him and then shook his head. "You've gained basic competence. That's obnoxious."

  "I expected the difference to be bigger," Rick said. "I've kind of been assuming you were an immortal too, or at least close to one."

  "None of that is any of your business." H sat down and folded his arms, glaring him into a seat across from him. "Now, 79,000 is not a terrible score, but it needs to be higher. This is where a demonic bond would have been extremely useful."

  "They count that as part of the number?"

  "Everything is part of the number, even equipment. What matters here is efficacy."

  Rick nodded acceptance, but H clearly wasn't done.

  "As I said, I'm not going to force a bond on you. And I've been patient because you've avoided embarrassing yourself too badly. But here, a few tricks won't cut it. You'd better not have been lying about having some plan to get a better bond, or you're not getting entered into any events."

  "I'll do what I can." Rick had been avoiding thinking about the subject, or focusing solely on Bftgage and
Ythsil. But though he trusted the two demons, he didn't expect them to ever present him with some amazing combat bond. Hopefully they could at least lead him to something that would appease H.

  "Entry into the demon realm isn't too difficult here, due to the number of fusions, but it's highly restricted. I'll set something up for you as soon as possible."

  "Thanks." Trying to distract himself from all the other thoughts, Rick tried to refocus. "I assume we'll be in a training center as always, but we'll still see Siberian culture. Anything I need to know?"

  "Don't start any fights. If you think the limits on killing are lax in the US, you haven't seen anything." H jabbed a finger at the badge still held in his hands. "Some would argue there's no rule of law here, just rule of affiliations. Fortunately, the Showdown is internationally respected. It won't earn you respect, but it will earn you a bit of protection."

  "That's... better than it could be. It seems like this would be a terrible place to start a Showdown career."

  "Only idiots send their trainees here first. Some don't let them come to Siberia until a full year of events, but your first few months have been adequate. You shouldn't die, anyway."

  Rick took a deep breath, his attempt at a distraction having utterly failed. "Is getting a demonic bond here a mistake, then? Are they going to just take my soul by force?"

  "No, the Siberian demon corps are international agencies. Cutthroat, but that's par for the course. Read the fine print and you'll live." H regarded him sternly. "Does that mean you're going to actually go through with this, instead of being a racist coward again?"

  The only response Rick had was to shake his head. It seemed like he didn't have a choice, yet he was banking heavily on Bftgage and Ythsil finding a good path for him. Without any contact with them, he was actually nervous. Could they survive in an environment like this one? If he had sent them to their deaths...