Taking advantage of Novak's unusually generous mood, I immediately pointed out that Nur had cultivation scheduled in the Chamber tomorrow and she was just a step away from the bottleneck, so maybe it wasn't the best idea to drag her into all this right now…

I didn't know if they took my words to heart; no one bothered to inform me.

We discussed Mehra a little more, and it seemed to me that Novak was disappointed with my stance. I was in favour of leaving her alone and just observing. At least find out from Nur the name of her brain hitchhiker's lover — then we could start planning something.

That concluded our talk with Bulsara. Novak dismissed him but kept me back. The doctor was deeply offended. Well, that's it — we were definitely not going to be friends now.

"You remembered something from Jake's past or...?"

"Teren. That was my..." no, not a name, "my callsign."

"Does it mean anything?"

"Blackthorn."

"Very grand," Novak smiled. "Nothing else?"

I shook my head.

"Alright, go on then, catch up with Farukh. If he sees you coming out soon after him, he'll be less offended."

I obediently got up, but since Novak was in such a good mood...

"May I ask for some advice, sir?"

"Briefly," Vaclav said as he rose.

"I'm having trouble with building channels..."

"Tea," he cut me off. "Pure Thoughts aren't just good for cultivation. I reckon two doses will be enough for you to sort it out."

I didn't catch up with Farukh, but the delay was well worth it.

"Rene!" I greeted the instructor as I burst into the hall in the morning. "I'm on Pure Thoughts!"

"Oh, then let's start with channeling qi right away!" he replied.

I managed it on the third attempt!

On the third try, I pulled a thread of qi from my solar plexus all the way to the knuckle of my index finger. Granted, only on my left hand, but I corrected that after two more tries, and by the end of the session, I could thread qi to any bone in either hand.

The progress was incredible. Even Rene looked suspicious.

"Are you sure it's Pure Thoughts? You didn't buy anything forbidden, did you?"

"It's the red Pure Thoughts," I told him.

Rene squinted.

"I don't know what kind of crap you've taken, but if I were you, I'd keep a close eye on how I'm feeling — and run straight to the infirmary at the first sign of trouble."

I almost burst out laughing but held it in, not wanting to anger Rene, and nodded back seriously.

After my breakthrough with the channels, I was so energised I felt like smashing something — maybe break it apart with an enhanced Chain Punch.

Even my projections, with qi drawn only to a single knuckle, looked much sharper and more solid. However, Rene warned me against rushing things. I still couldn't channel qi through all the branches at once, and he wanted me to master that before I pushed full power through them.

We finished drilling the technique, and Rene waved me off to rest, so I decided to seize the moment.

"Can you recommend a movement technique specifically for dodging?" I asked.

Rene paused mid-step and turned back towards me.

"The duels inspired you after all?" he asked.

"Not exactly. It's more about Kate and the lightning bolts to the backside."

Rene shook his head.

"And here I thought we'd awakened some real fighting spirit."

"I'm not interested in damage, I don't care about distance. I need one thing — displacement. Quick, in any direction, preferably without having to watch my footing too closely."

"So basically you want a footwork version of the Chain Punch," Rene summed up, thoughtfully scratching his chin.

I smiled.

"That's exactly it! A jump, a dash, a slip... The key thing is it has to be fast, and I don't want to have to stare at the ground while doing it," I added, recalling the comment about Iron Head in the library. "And ideally," I sweetened the deal, "it's something you teach."

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Rene thought for a moment, weighing something up in his head, then said,

"Mad Monkey. It's simple, not very popular because it deals no damage at all and doesn't allow for a fast approach. In fact, you can't move in a straight line with it. But it fits your needs."

"What's the mechanics?"

"A single strong push — with your foot, your hand, or your backside if you can manage. The shockwave gives you enough impulse to shift up to three metres. Any direction except straight ahead. After that, the technique resets almost instantly — you can do it again, almost like Chain Strike."

"Sounds almost perfect," I said, growing a little suspicious. "I'll have to look it up in the library."

"Do that," Rene nodded and turned to leave again.

"Wait," I asked. "If it's not popular, how did it end up in your arsenal?"

"It's got a powerful air upgrade at Third Stage. Mad Monkey of East. If you're interested, you can look that up in the library too. Now off you go. I've got other cadets waiting."

"Right. Thanks. I'll drop by again in the evening."

"Make it before six. I'm not staying here round the clock."

"Then maybe I won't drop by after all. My shift's till five. How about fifty units an hour?" I suggested.

"Sure," he agreed. "Why not."

"See you later then. Probably."

After the hall, I messaged Nur. Turned out she was stuck at Bulsara's, caught up with "tests." It seemed my requests to leave her alone until her minor breakthrough had been completely ignored.

Either way, free time had just dropped out of the sky. And I no longer had to head to the Fist Garden. I could have gone to the library, but honestly, I traditionally reserved that for my security shifts. So...

Impulse told me to head for the Air Garden.

Why?

Because I'd never been there before, because air was my second-strongest-available root, because Rene had mentioned a powerful air upgrade, and because Marlon could already tell apart two types of qi — one of them air. Plenty of reasons.

I quickly dropped by the Armour Hall, geared up, and set off for the Air Garden. It was even further away than Novak's, only in the opposite direction. The metro station opened into a small but long canyon. From the station, all you could see was a strip of sky and grey-brown rocky walls riddled with niches.

Those niches, as it turned out, were where the cultivators were — watering the garden with translucent techniques that dissolved into the wild winds.

Despite Verdis's thin atmosphere, the winds here were truly feral. They didn't just blow — they raged. Every step met a different current of air, each with its own direction and force. A sharp tug from the left, a slippery breath from below, a heavy wave straight into the chest. And then a dust-laden blast straight onto the head.

There was plenty of dust here, but it moved strangely — nothing was stable, but everything was alive.

No flowers grew here. Not a single daisy, no immortelles, no violets like in the Fist Garden. Only low, sturdy trees, with sprawling claw-like branches, twisted and rough as if they'd grown in defiance of all botanical laws. Very similar to the ones at the far end of the Fist Garden — but here the fruits were different: bulkier, more gnarled, like inside-out passionfruit, their deep wrinkles packed with dust.

Between the trees, there were shrubs. Some bushes had no leaves at all — just a net of winding fibres. I saw one such "fibre" catch a gust of air and shiver, passing the impulse along the line. It seemed like everything here fed on the air — as if it wasn't just qi but also their oxygen and food source at once.

Suddenly, in the distance, a massive dust tornado rose up. It had formed from different dust streams within seconds, but two cultivators in black-and-blue armour on jet-powered surfboards shot towards it and literally tore it to shreds with counter-air currents.

It looked epic.

The cultivators circled the area where the tornado had been — probably checking if it would reform — and then returned to their niches.

I glanced around, hoping to find a thinhorn — someone I could ask about getting a job. In the Fist Garden, there was always someone near the station. Here — it was completely empty.

But there were paths laid out here, so I set off along one of them. Eventually, around a bend in the paved track, I saw what I was looking for — a thinhorn in a black jumpsuit. Except he looked so wild at first, I didn't immediately recognise him as a thinhorn.

The reason was a thick black mask with heavy horns. I figured the horns were hollow and the mask literally hung from the real ones, because the rest of the head and neck were covered with thick canvas — or something that looked like leather. The jumpsuit seemed to be made of the same material, and looked like he'd spent half his life fighting off dust storms in it. The breathing apparatus on his back, similar to the ones worn by the thinhorns in the Fist Garden, was probably twice as massive.

Compared to this setup, the thinhorns' gear from the Fist Garden looked like beachwear against the armour of a post-apocalyptic warrior.

The thinhorn — Kivi 071, according to the interface — was walking straight towards me. Probably heading for the station, but when he drew level with me, he stopped.

"Lost, cadet?" his voice rasped through the mask, sounding almost like a wind turbine on low revs.

"Not really," I decided not to beat around the bush. "I used to pick flowers in the Fist Garden. Thought I'd see if there's work here too."

"Flowers?" he huffed. "Hard to find any flowers here."

"I noticed," I smiled under my helmet. "So maybe there's something else?"

"Collecting dust — you wouldn't manage," he shook his head. "Fruit collectors are needed too, but..." he gave me a long look from head to toe, then poked at my armour with a finger and tapped. "Your kit's not built for it. Thin shell. The dust would eat through it. And I'd wager you've got standard filters in there too."

I didn't know exactly what filters I had, but I suspected he was right.

Kivi patted me on the shoulder and pointed back towards the path leading to the station.

"Come on," though he wasn't kicking me out yet. The thinhorn continued, "If you're serious about working as a collector, we can provide protective gear."

Very kind of him, but...

"There's a hypersensitivity formation on this armour," I admitted. "I wasn't just working in the Fist Garden."

"And you thought you could understand Air Qi here..." Kivi finished for me. From his voice, I could tell he was quickly losing interest. "Pity, we really need collectors." But then his interest spiked back, like he was clutching at straws. "Wait, you picked the Fist Garden first — so Fist is your main root. Air is second?"

"Yes."

"The number is?"

"Fifteen."

"Interested in broadening your arsenal? We offer techniques for worked hours! We even do it in advance!"

I tilted my head slightly. That was something new. Though Kivi's tone reminded me a lot of a salesman trying to push something you absolutely didn't need.

"Details, please," I requested.

"Here!" Kivi stopped and his fingers danced in the air, scrolling through an invisible interface. "Here you go."

Incoming message: Kivi 071

Subject: List

Content: https://www.patreon.com/c/maksympachesiuk/collections

The link led to a list of techniques handed out at the Garden.

"Take a look when you've got time. I know you Fist guys rely on shields for defence, but Point guys pierce those in one shot. Air techniques, though, mess up their aim instantly!"

Meaning, if I ended up in a duel with Dubois...

Why the hell would I be duelling Eric?

No, no, no!

This needed some serious thinking.

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