Street Cultivation, page 4
When he didn't get a response, Rick rushed inside, barely remembering to lock the door. No one in the living room, television off. He checked the bathroom was empty before opening the only other door, to his sister's room. For a moment he thought she was missing entirely, then he saw her.
Melissa lay on the floor off the side of the bed, eyes closed but shivering intensely. It looked as though she had reached for something on the nightstand and fallen. Her long hair, a shade lighter brown than his, fanned out over the carpet. She'd changed out of her school clothes to more comfortable ones, but her glasses lay several feet from her.
"You okay, sis?" Rick bent down and lifted her in his arms, placing her more comfortably on the bed. She didn't answer, though she shivered less intensely at his touch.
This one was serious. Rick got out his phone and flipped to check on her - not with the cheap combat app he used for himself, but a medical app with a lucrim subscription. He gently settled the sensor against her forehead, letting it take a reading and then checking the results.
[Melissa Hunter
Lucrim Generation: 3114
Current Lucrim: 19
Ether Void: -2487]
He winced at the numbers - things hadn't been this bad in months. Rick stroked the hair out of her face while he grabbed the bottle of pills she had been reaching for. The normal dosage was one, but the instructions said that she could take two in an emergency. Even if she'd already taken one that day, this qualified as an emergency.
Thankfully, she didn't struggle when he fed her the pills, swallowing them easily. He felt one of her hands grip his arm, and a moment later her eyes fluttered open.
"Rick..." She gave him a weak smile. "Sorry to... worry you..."
"You're going to be fine, Melissa. Did anything bring on this attack?"
"No... normal day..." Her eyes were already beginning to fall closed again, so Rick decided that he didn't have a choice.
He carefully removed the two pearl bars from his backpack and drained the lucrim from them. In an ideal world, he would have absorbed the energy himself and used it to increase his strength. But compared to his sister's life, that didn't seem so important. Rick set up a stream of power into her body, where it gently washed through her before it disappeared.
It wasn't absorbed into her body, the power simply disappeared into a void. Melissa had a rare condition that left her lucrima foundation with a hole that constantly drained her. Though her generation rate was above average for a girl her age, in practice she never had that much strength. With medication she could live a normal life, but occasionally the ether void would grow more intense and drain all her strength. If the ether void number ever rose above her generation rate, death was certain.
Not if she had been in a proper medical facility, of course. If they had been part of a major sect or been wealthy enough, there were a variety of effective treatments. From what Rick had read online, rich people with the same condition could lead normal lives, and some of them even fought competitively. Those weren't options for them.
When he had drained away enough of his new lucrim, Melissa finally stabilized. That left him with only about 500 lucrim from his unexpected windfall, but he just felt lucky that he'd had it. Without that, he would have needed to drain his own lucrim into her, which wouldn't have completely reversed the fit and would have left him too exhausted to care for her.
Instead, he could see a bit of strength returning to her. His sister had always been ghostly pale, and her body was much too thin, but she stopped shivering. When she next opened her eyes, there was a bit of a spark in them again.
"Hey, Rick." She smiled up at him gently. "Sorry to worry you again."
"No, I should have been home earlier. I ran into some problems."
"Really? A bad client?"
"Not exactly... believe it or not, a group of three Birthrighters came into the gym to pick a fight."
"Haha, oh my gosh, really?" Melissa sat up, a big silly grin on her face. Seeing her expression was a huge relief and the tension finally drained out of him. "Like in an 80s movie or something?"
"A bit, though they didn't challenge us or threaten to close down the local martial arts school unless we could raise a specific amount of money." No, those were problems that had easy solutions, whereas this was just mundane cruelty. He kept all of that off his face. "Anyway, one of them beat me pretty good, but Lisa showed up and healed me. So I actually came out of it 500 lucrim richer, plus it helped my defensive core."
"Wow, your day was a lot more eventful than mine. I had a normal day at school and I was just going to veg out for the rest of the night. And before you ask, I already finished my homework."
Melissa hopped up to go to the living room, and though his instincts wanted her to stay in bed, he suppressed them. Now that the incident had passed and her lucrima had stabilized, she was essentially healthy. Forcing her to stay in bed would only push her toward depressing thoughts, so he just followed her out.
They sat on the couch and watched bad television, cracking old jokes that weren't funny to anyone else. For the first time in almost the entire day, Rick was truly able to relax. Given how rough things had been, he really needed it.
But as soon as he felt his lucrima regain a placid calm, he began his usual training exercises. They were nothing elaborate, just simple meditations he could repeat while watching TV, but he practiced them religiously. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had missed them, if he didn't count the one time he'd fallen unconscious at work and lost an entire day.
Such work wouldn't revolutionize his life, but he was slowly and surely increasing his lucrim generation rate. He didn't have a choice, not if he wanted to support his sister, much less ever make anything of himself. For the thousandth time he considered applying for a demonic bond, or taking bigger risks for greater profits. But the truth was, given his life, a single major failure could ruin him, and that would ruin his sister's life as well.
"God, that guy is such a... such a mallard head." Melissa's joke was interrupted by a loud yawn. "Wow, I am way sleepier than I thought. Will you be okay without me if I turn in early?"
"I don't know, sis. Without your guidance I might end up jamming meth into my eyeballs."
"Don't do that, ya dummy." She hit him in the shoulder playfully. "You have to smoke the meth."
"Wow, really? You're such a good role model."
"And don't forget it!" Melissa wandered into the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, leaving him alone on the couch.
Watching TV was boring without her and he'd already finished his exercises, so Rick instead began doing some more research on what this "Golden Core" in his profile might be. But despite his best efforts, he didn't end up learning anything useful. He might need to ask someone about it, and the problem there was always finding someone he could actually trust. If only his uncle was taking calls at the moment...
"Oh, by the way." Melissa poked her head out the bathroom door. "I grabbed the mail on my way home and it's all on the little table. I threw out the junk, but I wasn't sure about those ether course flyers. Anything that might be useful to you?"
"Nah, those are almost all scams."
"I figured, but I kept them just in case. Anyway, other than the bill, the only other letter is a big sealed one. It had your name on it, so I left it alone."
"Thanks, sis."
Rick forced himself to get off the couch and walked over to the "little table", which was also the only table. Another running joke that wasn't really funny, just a comfortable habit. There he brushed aside the useless flyers promising instant power, glanced at the bill, and then examined the big sealed envelope.
Immediately his relaxed mood evaporated and he tore it open. The return address was for the legal agency that handled everything related to their parents. There'd been a time when he'd hoped their parents would come back, but ever since his mother had abandoned Melissa, he'd given up on that. He'd expected that he wouldn't hear from them again until they died, unless they ended up calling to try to make bail.
So he wasn't sure how to feel when he learned that his parents were dead.
Rick read the simple sentences several times, trying to glean more significant information from them. It sounded like it had been illegal fighting, no doubt undertaken for more drug money. The letter danced around the subject, but that kind of thing happened often enough that he could read between the lines.
It had actually happened several days ago, it had just taken until now for the authorities to take care of the details. Now Rick needed to go take care of his parents' effects. The letter claimed they left him a Birthright Core, but he doubted it could be much of anything - more likely there was a small amount of compensation based on how they'd died. He'd take it.
Still, he found himself wondering. The meeting wasn't for three days, yet he couldn't put it out of his mind as he wished Melissa goodnight, brushed his teeth, and lay down on the couch to sleep.
Had his parents left him some sort of core? He told himself that it was probably nothing, and he'd find out soon enough, but it was still difficult to get to sleep.
Chapter 5: Liquor Store Powerup
The meeting with the attorneys was on Friday, so Rick spent all his time before then training. In theory, whatever his parents had left him would probably dwarf the small gains he could make in that time, but he felt that he needed to be prepared. Even when it came to inheritance, dealing with lawyers always made him nervous. That was what came from growing up having to pick up his parents from the local jail.
They were dead now, though.
Even two days later, that thought still stopped him. It wasn't like they had been close, or ever been real parents to him. Melissa hadn't even cried when he'd told her, just sat quietly for a while. But even absent, they had still been a part of his life that was now entirely gone.
Rick pushed such thoughts aside and focused on training. On Wednesday he threw himself into sparring with all his clients, dusting off his own skills. He'd had Thursday off anyway, so he asked his boss for Friday off as well. There was a lot of grumbling, and he had to reschedule with Lisa, but in the end he was allowed to use one of his vacation days. That meant he could attend the official meeting and see what his parents had left him.
Before that, he needed to use the last days before the meeting to finish preparing. Since Melissa had been in good health since then, as she usually was for a while after an incident, he decided that he could afford to invest his lucrim.
Which meant he was going to the liquor store.
As he walked down the weed-covered sidewalk, Rick checked his status again:
[Name: Rick Hunter
Ether Tier: 19th
Ether Score: 196
Lucrim Generation: 15,950
Current Lucrim: 12,378]
[Rick Hunter's Lucrima Portfolio
Foundation: 7300 (Lv II)
Offensive Lucore: 3100 (Lv II)
Defensive Lucore: 5550 (Lv IV)
Golden Lucore: 10 (N/A)
Total Lucrim: 15,950]
Not a bad improvement, mostly working through the aftermath of the big fight. That amount would be overwhelmed by what he could purchase that day, though. Maybe in the old days it was possible for lone warriors to become powerful by meditating alone, but today you needed money and lucrim, no matter what you did. Most likely even the old days had been similar, though, and the easy routes to power were just fairy tales.
He had gotten his paycheck on Wednesday and spent a good chunk of it absorbing lucrim, which had raised him near his generation limit. It wasn't often that he was close, usually needing to spend lucrim on other things, so he enjoyed overflowing with power for once. But if all went well, he'd be in much better shape for the meeting with the lawyers.
Finally Rick arrived at the liquor store, stepping over a man lying in a training stupor. A bottle that had once held something potent lay beside him, and his body glowed with power, but he was out cold with a pool of vomit spreading beneath his face. Probably a power addict.
Inside there were mostly regular drinkers who stuck to themselves. The inside of the liquor store was normal enough, mostly just shelves filled with bottles. But one corner of it by the door was a massively reinforced cube of glass. Travis the owner sat inside it, capable of both dropping a metal door over the entrance if anyone tried to run or projecting power outside the glass if necessary. He was a large, greasy man, but he made enough money from owning the store to gather some real power.
Rick didn't come there often, so he needed to take some time to find what he wanted. He kept his head down and avoided a loud group of students from one of the combat sects. Too much of a chance they might be looking for a fight, which he couldn't afford right now.
After scanning the walls and finding only normal alcohol, Rick gave up and approached the glass cube. "Do you still sell philosopher's elixir here?"
"Ah, yeah." Travis scratched at his stomach where it protruded from his shirt. "Had to put it behind the glass due to new regulations from the local board. Apparently some idiots couldn't handle the lucrim surge and smashed up some things downtown. Now I'm only allowed to sell what people can handle."
"That's understandable. I'm looking for some, so if-"
"Gotta test you first." A glass plate opened, revealing a small machine with a needle at one end and a collection disc beneath. Rick sighed and looked up at the owner.
"Travis, you've sold elixir to me multiple times, you shouldn't need to test me." Plus, it was well known that he sold both alcohol and stronger substances to whoever could pay.
But it seemed like Travis was going to force him to jump through the hoops, possibly just as a power trip. Rick reached forward and pricked his finger on the needle, letting a drop of blood fall onto the disc. The blood was instantly whisked away and the machine rumbled for a moment before it gave a readout on the other end. Whatever it said, it made Travis grunt affirmatively.
"Alright, I can sell to you. All the philosopher's elixir is in the top row behind me, but I'd recommend a 10k if you're looking for an edge, a 25k if you want to boost your training." Travis stared at him for a moment, judging his build with an undercurrent of scorn. "You're a gym rat, right? Maybe try a 20k mix instead, unless you want to get roided up."
"No, I'd like to try the 100k." Rick was confident that he knew his limits better than Travis did, and he wasn't going to let the man's scorn slow his development.
"That's gonna knock you right out, kid. You have any idea how strong six figures is?"
"I had one of them as a client the other day." He left out the details, of course, just stared back at Travis and refused to budge. "But if you don't want my business, I can go somewhere else."
"Eh, it's your funeral. How much do you want?"
In the end, Rick bought only a single bottle of 100k philosopher's elixir. If he'd spent all his money, he could have purchased three. That would have been enough to invest a huge amount of lucrim into himself, which would have been a substantial boost to his strength.
It would also have been stupid. Something in the apartment could break, or Melissa might need money for something at school, or they might have to pay for a medical emergency. Only someone with no responsibilities and no sense of long term planning could blow all their money on training supplies. Just buying this bottle was already extravagant for him, but he justified it because he'd soon have his parents' inheritance. Even if it was meager, what they left him could pay for one bottle.
Once he received the bottle, he hefted it with one hand, feeling the tingle of power even through the glass. Just to make sure he wasn't making a mistake, he opened it and took a sip. He was pretty sure just a sip wouldn't knock him out cold, but if so, better to do it here, where someone would call for help. At least, they probably would.
To his surprise, though it tingled as it went down his throat, he handled it easily. Had fighting against the Birthrighter improved his tolerance that much? If so, he was actually getting much stronger...
No. Abruptly Rick realized that answer might massage his ego, but there was a much simpler explanation. He checked the label again, frowned, and turned back to Travis.
"Are you sure this is right? It doesn't taste like 100k to me."
Travis grunted and didn't look up. "Don't go complaining just because it's more than you can handle. No returns after you open the bottle."
"No, I'm saying it tastes like less than 100k. And I'm wondering just how that could have happened."
That got Travis to look up, beady eyes glaring. "Are you accusing me of something, kid?"
"No, of course not." Rick gave him a flat smile and tapped the bottle against the glass idly. "I just assume that you would be concerned if your supplier gave you an inferior product. Seems like something everyone would be concerned about. Maybe we could ask all those students to weigh in and give their impressions?"
"You little shit." Travis glared at him a while longer, but his eyes flickered toward the sect students milling in the aisles. "Look, most training addicts can't tell the difference, they just want something to burn through their system. I didn't mean anything by it."
"No harm in an honest mistake. But I really did need 100k for my training..."
Though he cursed under his breath, Travis gave in. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a different bottle: it looked identical to the first on the outside, but the clear liquid inside burned a little brighter. When it moved through the security door, Rick compared it to the first and then took a sip. Yes, that was definitely stronger.
Travis leaned forward, one hand pushing against the glass. His hand was fat enough that his flesh flattened against the surface, but it also burned with power. "That makes us even, kid. Unless anyone hears about this, in which case we will never be even. You understand me?"
"Perfectly. Thanks for the elixir." Rick gave him a smile and headed out the door, though he took care to secure both bottles in his backpack first.
The entire way home he found himself tense. Part of it was just carrying something so valuable, but another part of it was the confrontation. Liquor stores needed to care about security, particularly if they also dealt in lucrim-related drinks. He didn't think Travis had directly threatened him, or that there would be any consequences, but the possibility left him uneasy. If mobsters broke his legs, he wouldn't be able to take care of his sister and his training would be set back years, putting them in a hole they'd never escape.
