Moon Cultivation [Sci-fi Xianxia]

[Book 2] Chapter 121: Marked Again


Waking up the second time was easier.

And this time, I had underwear on — already a win.

For some reason, that was the first thing I remembered — not the failed tournament, not the demons, not the six days without cultivation.

The capsule hadn't even fully lifted when I spotted Zola.

Something about the way she was standing set me on edge. I wasn't sure I was even fully awake — my body felt sluggish, nothing responded quite right, and everything around me was a little too bright, slightly blurred. But the worry on Zola's face came through crystal clear.

"What happened?" I asked, pushing off the tilted wall and taking a step out.

"Kim Sin-Woo's been asking the medics about your injuries. About the tournament. About your recovery. Said he's your best friend."

"Kim?" He wouldn't be looking for me without a reason. "When was this?"

"This afternoon. Right after they pulled him out of a capsule himself."

"And how'd he end up in that?" I asked.

"Officially? Sparring injury. But how true that is — who knows. This is the same Kim from Tariq's squad, right? One of the guys Bao wrecked after you gave him tips?"

"Yeah…" I muttered, pulling up my interface.

And there it was — surprise. A dozen missed calls. Just as many messages.

All from Kim.

"Give me a sec," I said, scrolling through the mess. Most of it boiled down to the same thing: Urgent. Need to meet. ASAP.

"Can I go?" I asked.

"No." Zola folded her arms. "I pulled you out of the capsule because it might have been serious. But you're not done healing. If you head out now, by tomorrow your gut'll be so bloated it'll look like a pumpkin. Muscles are fine, but your intestines and microbiome still need care."

"How long was I in there this time?" I nodded back toward the pod.

"Less than a day."

I focused on my body, trying to assess how I felt.

No hunger, no thirst, not even the usual urge to rush to the bathroom, which always came after a long stay in the capsule.

"So that means I've still got two more to go?"

"Yeah."

In two days, all kinds of hell could break loose. Kim wouldn't be looking for me without a reason.

The clock in the interface came in handy: 8 PM.

"Not too late…"

I called Kim.

He didn't answer for nearly a minute — a full minute of ringing before the tone finally cut out.

When he picked up, his voice was low. Almost like he thought someone might be listening.

"Yes."

"Hey, buddy," I said lightly. "I'm awake and ready to talk."

Zola gave me a look like I'd lost my mind.

Kim didn't appreciate the tone either.

"Location?" he asked, still quiet.

"Don't think they'll let me leave the infirmary…" I glanced at Zola.

She shook her head.

"You sure we can't just talk like this?"

"No."

His voice had more tension in it now, even if he wasn't any louder.

"And messages are out of the question too?"

"No. We need to meet. It's important."

"I'll try to figure something out. Maybe they'll let you in to see me—"

Zola firmly mouthed no.

I raised my eyebrows as if to ask why, and she drew a finger sharply across her throat.

"I'll call you back," I said, and ended the line.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"What?" I asked her.

"You didn't have to hang up," Zola said, exasperated. "I meant I can't make that kind of meeting happen. Not anymore.

"After the murder in Marco's, the Hall of Order pushed through tighter security protocols. This wing's under guard by two third-stages. They won't let any unauthorised visitors through."

"Will they let me out?"

"You're not finished healing!" she snapped.

I shook my head.

"I need to talk to him. Maybe it's nothing. But I don't believe that. He used to avoid me. Now he's reaching out. I need to know why."

"You seriously trust that bully?"

"We've sort of come to terms. He's not worried about losing teeth anymore, and I'm not worried about a knife in the back."

"You really think he's trying to help you?"

I snorted.

"He's not looking for me to help. He's trying to sell hot info before it goes cold."

"You didn't tell me you do that!" Zola said, clearly offended.

"There's a lot I haven't told you," I replied. "Sorry, love, but you don't want to fight, and you still want to know everything? Doesn't work like that."

Zola puffed up in protest and crossed her arms.

The sight gave me a stab of déjà vu. Not the big déjà vu from my past life, but a flashback to a conversation I once had with Novak, when he explained why he didn't tell me everything.

His words and mine?

Surprisingly parallel.

Then again, there was a difference. I had been an active participant in Novak's shenanigans. Zola? She had almost nothing to do with mine.

Still, she pouted dramatically, arms folded like a theatre mask of betrayal.

"What do bullies have to do with demons?" she asked, sceptical. "Don't feed me crap!"

"Officially? Nothing at all," I said.

"Wait!" Her expression changed, arms dropped, eyes sharpened. "You're serious?"

"Zola, honey, you don't need to know. Call Bulsara. Tell him what's going on. Maybe he can do something."

She considered it for a moment, then raised her middle finger right between my eyes. She was still a little pissed, but that didn't stop her from acting. She called her Doc and explained the situation. From the look on her face, Bulsara wasn't thrilled, but the message came back clear:

Tell Kim to fracture a knuckle or fake a finger dislocation and come into the infirmary.

Ten minutes later, Bulsara himself appeared in my room. In that time, Zola and I hadn't made up, but we also hadn't escalated into a full-blown fight.

Doc escorted me out under the pretext of 'test procedures.' The guards couldn't deny him anything, so he simply led me into a side room full of machines, the purpose of most of them a complete mystery to me.

Except one.

The machine in the far corner — they'd used that one to inject medicine into my hands when my fists had swollen from trying to activate a shield the first time.

Bulsara pointed at a different device, closer to the wall. It looked like a narrow bench with a ring around it.

The ring opened up, and I had to lie down on the bench.

The moment I did, restraints locked my limbs in place, and the ring closed around my torso. Some of its inner parts started rotating, creating a burning sensation in my abdomen.

What the machine was doing, I had no clue.

A few minutes later, Zola brought Kim in and made him stick his 'dislocated' finger into the machine I recognised.

And then they left us alone.

"I'll be back in five minutes," Zola said.

Kim gave her a confused look as she left, then finally spoke.

"How the hell did you manage this?" Kim asked. "It took a whole damn Golden Core to send me in here!"

"That's what you wanted to talk about?" I shot back. "The nurse wasn't kidding about the five-minute limit. You better get to the point."

"Right, right — sorry," Kim said quickly. "Tariq's planning another attack."

"On me?" I clarified.

"Yeah."

"Gods, does he ever learn? I thought you were calling the shots now."

"I was," Kim said with a grim nod. "Until this morning, when he wiped the floor with me in the arena. His technique's the same, but his power? It's off the charts. Man, he's juicing. And it's working.

"You guys got the wrong people. The drugs didn't disappear. The dealers are still active. The ones who got shipped off to Earth prison were pushing 'pleasure'. Not 'power."

"I'm aware," I said, even though that wasn't completely true. I knew we hadn't caught the big players yet, but I hadn't realised the operations were so specialised. "Sorry, I can't go into the details."

Kim squinted, studying me.

"Tariq's putting together a new team to take you down. He's promising to share 'the power' with anyone who helps."

"And you can't stop him," I concluded.

"Stop him?" Kim laughed bitterly. "Man, this isn't even his idea. Someone higher up, someone behind the drug trade, is interested in you now.

"I'm lucky I'm still breathing. Tariq's too stupid to connect the dots, but he burned me. Caught me red-handed and didn't realise what that meant."

"You're losing me," I admitted.

"Back then I was sniffing around, asking about the dealers, using Tariq's name as cover," Kim explained. "They found out. And instead of punishing him or thinking he'd flipped for you or the Hall of Order, they recruited him.

"Offered him revenge and the means to get it.

"You've been marked, man."

"They just want to beat me?" I asked, puzzled. I'd expected something a little more… final. "Or…" I drew a finger across my throat.

"I don't know what they told Tariq exactly," Kim said. "But he wants to break you. Knock your teeth out — especially the teeth!

"After regrowing his own so many times, he's got a serious grudge."

It would be strange for the demons, or whoever was behind this, to openly propose murder. That would mean instant expulsion. And no matter how much Tariq hated me, he didn't want to get kicked out. That would cut off his path to power.

Still… Kim was right.

Tariq was stupid.

And stupid people were easy to manipulate in the dark.

Offer him power and revenge in the same package — he'd sign up without blinking.

Tariq would attack, and the blame would fall on him for attempted murder. But he wouldn't be the one to land the final blow.

Ha! Novak's plan worked.

We'd get another shot at catching a demon.

"When's the attack planned?" I asked.

"When you're discharged from the infirmary."

"He doesn't suspect you?"

"Don't think so. Judging by what he said during our sparring match, while he was beating the shit out of me, he thinks I was looking for the dealers for myself. Trying to get stronger.

"It was hard keeping up with his stream-of-consciousness and dodging projections at the same time."

"But you managed," I said.

"You didn't see me this morning. He wrecked me."

"So now you're his bitch for now?" I asked, watching Kim's jaw clench in offence.

"Cut it out. I need to know the real situation. If he's dragging you around like a mutt, then he definitely doesn't suspect anything."

"He doesn't," Kim snapped.

"Perfect," I said. "Three days. You can survive three days. I need you to warn me where and when it's going to happen.

This time, use the messaging system."

Kim lifted his chin, clearly uncomfortable, but I waved it off.

"You already left me ten missed calls and as many messages. If the cartel has access to the servers, you're screwed anyway."

"Oh, shit." Kim's face went pale. "It's a cartel? Like a real cartel? One of those that pulls tongues out through people's slit throats?"

"What? No. That's just what I call them. Relax."

"How do you know it's not one of those?"

"Trust me, I know."

If you only knew who they really were, you'd be ten times more scared.

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