What next?

I'd made a breakthrough in channel threading. I had a plan for a movement technique. For the first time in weeks, I didn't have to run off to the Fist Garden, and Kate wasn't expressing any desire to play hide-and-seek or electro-cowboys.

When free time appears, it's both a luxury and a curse.

I could just rest — always a good idea — but lately, my shifts in the block have been so quiet that I sometimes nod off there. I'll rest then.

I needed advice about the Air Garden. Who to ask?

Rene — the obvious answer. He's my instructor, he knows more about my training than Kate does, and he's the one teaching Mad Monkey, which I might be taking. But I'd already bothered him today, and I promised to stop by again this evening. Probably not the best idea if I didn't want him raising the price of his lessons.

Kate? Hm.

She's my mentor. She specialises in Fist and Lightning. Judging by what I overheard, her techniques must be all about speed, pressure, and striking power. Not sure she could advise me much about Air Qi, although she definitely has experience combining different roots and techniques. Maybe it would be worth talking to her?

Or maybe it would end with another round of electro-cowboys... No, not ready for another load of electric bolts to the arse just yet.

Marlon.

Now there's someone I hadn't considered. My roommate was already trying to combine Point and Air. He was doing just fine with Air — he could even sense it. That's something. Though Marlon wasn't an instructor or a mentor, he was definitely someone I could talk through the basics with, without pressure.

Any other options?

I opened the interface and looked at my roots:

Spiritual Roots:

• Fire: 7

• Water: 16

• Lightning: 4

• Air: 15

• Earth: 16

• Wood: 5

Martial Roots:

• Blade: 5

• Mace: 2

• Point: 13

• Fist: 26

• Palm: 6

• Finger: 11

Celestial Roots:

• Gravity: 3

• Vacuum: 1

Although I was curious about Air, maybe I should just wander through the other gardens — just to learn to distinguish the different types of qi. Water and Earth were both at sixteen. Higher than Air! Pity the Black Lotus School didn't specialise in them, and there were no corresponding Gardens. Still, there wasn't a Lightning Garden either, but Kate managed somehow...

Maybe it was worth taking a look at those roots? Earth combined with Fist looked promising...

No! That would just be asking for more trouble! I should work with what I have — or what I can realistically get.

Either way, there were no Water or Earth Gardens here at the School, no place to get a taste of that qi, and no instructors who could help with techniques. So...

The nearest option was the Point Garden. Long-range techniques, telekinesis — cool stuff. But I couldn't imagine how to combine it with Fist. Plus, my Point root was only thirteen. Nur only started working on Fist Qi after pushing it up to fifteen. I didn't want to waste resources on essence, and honestly, the whole thing sounded shaky.

I just needed to move forward. So I called Alan.

Outgoing call: A. N. Kalum

"Have you figured out the techniques yet, or is this just another one of your brilliant ideas?" he asked, sounding a bit distracted, like he was speaking while doing something intricate.

I hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words.

"The second one, but it relates to the first — and I need advice."

"What?" Alan didn't catch my meaning.

I didn't like his tone. But at least now he was fully focused on the conversation. Well, looked like the advice was going to be expensive.

"My head's a mess, and I need to structure what I've learned. I need advice about techniques, armour, and the Air Garden," I said quickly, before he could tell me off. "How about coffee? Kate showed me a fancy cafe in the second-years' dorms."

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"You're not talking about Mandarin, are you? Because there's no way I'm drinking their acid," he grumbled.

"The coffee's fine," I said. "But no, not Mandarin. I keep forgetting the name..." I checked the map to find it.

"Marco's," Alan reminded me.

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"Well, I guess I can take a half-hour break."

"Let's meet in thirty minutes," I asked. "I still need to get out of this armour."

"Agreed."

Half an hour later, we were sitting in Marco's, and Marco 127 was taking our order. Well, at first he tried to pick a fight with Alan over his incense stick.

"With all due respect, sir, there's no smoking here."

"Does this look like a cigarette to you?" Alan asked, pulling the stick from his mouth and waving it in front of the thinhorn's face. A thin stream of smoke continued to rise, drifting exclusively towards the armourer's head and getting sucked into his nose.

"It's smoking," Marco pointed out.

"Yeah," Alan nodded. "Is the smoke bothering you?"

Personally, I couldn't smell anything — not even a hint of smoke. Marco must have decided that picking a fight with a Golden Core wasn't worth it, and quickly switched to a different script.

"Place your orders, gentlemen," he said.

"Latte," I ordered, as usual. "No sugar. And a croissant with raspberry jam."

"And I'll have Bone Stone with milk. Let it steep properly," Alan added. "And a cinnamon bun."

Marco nodded and went back to the counter.

I raised an eyebrow:

"Bone... what?" I asked Alan.

"Bone Stone. It's a tea. When you brew it with milk, it works like a tonic essence. Boosts precision, focus, and micromotor skills. Useful when you're engraving formations onto armour."

"Uh-huh..." I said. Sounded expensive. "And how much does it cost?"

"Here? Ten thousand per cup."

I practically winced. This advice was going to be expensive.

"You're a pretty stingy millionaire," Alan joked at my reaction. "Don't worry, I'm paying for myself. I've been working on this formation for two days straight now. It's been driving me mad. The incense sticks aren't helping anymore."

He twirled the stick in his fingers, and the smoke vanished. Alan pulled out a case from his pocket and dropped the stub inside.

"So, what's up? Speak while I'm still in the mood for a distraction."

I hurried to lay it all out: Chain Punch, the channels, Iron Head, dodging with Kate, Mad Monkey, Air Root, Air Garden, air techniques.

While I talked, my latte and croissant arrived, but Alan's milk-steeped stone tea still wasn't ready.

"There's a lot to think about," Alan agreed. "You haven't picked your main damage technique yet?" he clarified.

"No," I shook my head.

"If you're thinking of taking an air technique — forget it. First-stage air techniques are total rubbish if you're fighting in armour. And where are you going to find an idiot willing to fight without it these days?"

Obviously, the correct answer was "nowhere," so I nodded.

Still, Alan must have felt bad about trashing the root he himself had cultivated, so he added,

"The situation changes starting from the second stage."

"Changes a lot?" I asked.

Alan stretched out his hand in the style of a dark lord, and my breath caught — no, not caught. The air just involuntarily left my lungs. I opened my mouth to say I understood, but with empty lungs, it turned out to be impossible to utter anything. Fortunately, Alan didn't mock me — he lowered his hand, and air rushed noisily back into my lungs.

"And if I were in armour?"

"Then I'd rip the air out through your filters. And if we were in vacuum, and you had oxygen tanks on you..." Alan smiled unpleasantly. "I'd blow the tanks up and fire an air bolt right into the hole."

"Sounds... unpleasant," I said.

"But effective."

"Have you ever actually used it?" I asked. "We're all supposed to be friends here, united against a common enemy..." I hinted.

"Yeah..." Alan nodded. "Friends... Let's just say, at Late Condensation, friends are exploring caves on Ontel, and they stumble across a mainline crystal. And only one of them makes it back home... The others? The local fauna took care of them — the ones guarding that crystal."

At that moment, Marco brought over Alan's "tea." The cup was huge — half a litre plus at least — and as thick as my pinky. The white brew inside was bubbling, but not like boiling water — more like a poisonous swamp, with lazy, fat bubbles slowly rising to the surface. When they popped, they released a puff of smoky mist. Alan wiggled his fingers and took control of the smoke, guiding it neatly towards his face — but not to his nose. He inhaled it through his mouth and then took a sip — with the kind of deep satisfaction only a caffeine addict knows with the first morning coffee.

"Oh! This is good!" he said.

Well, for that price, it had better at least taste good. It definitely didn't win any prizes for looks.

"Ontel is a moon," I said. "And what's a mainline crystal?"

"A qi crystal," Alan said, raising his hand and counting off on his fingers. "Small, medium, large, mainline — from a thousand to five thousand units of qi. Anything bigger is a Core. And just in case you didn't quite catch it — from second bottleneck Condensation to Golden Core, you need about three or four thousand qi points cultivated."

"But what about dispersal..."

"But what about the crystal! You could get it all in one go, in about five to ten days."

"And how much does such a crystal cost?" I asked.

"Depends if it's closer to a large crystal or to a Core. Prices vary a lot — from eight to eighty million."

Yeah... that kind of money would get you killed. But there's more than just money at stake. It's personal power — and that's worth even more.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "A millionaire father won't be enough for my kids. They'll need a billionaire!"

"I'm all for it," Alan said, sipping his tea. Now a grey, porous stone — like sandstone — was rising above the surface of the milk in his cup. "I'll give you a permanent markup!"

"Discount," I corrected him.

"Markup," he replied. "Billionaires don't need discounts."

We locked eyes, and I decided I wasn't sitting here just to be mocked.

"Back to the topic of techniques. You recommend taking a striking move from the Fist arsenal?"

"Yeah. Take the classic Hook. Not the most powerful technique, but with your Chain Punch, it'll combine perfectly. So, here's the build: Chain Punch, Hook, Mad Monkey, Iron Head. Armour, gloves, and helmet will cost you about seventy thousand — without formations. Except for the gloves; those come with formations included. We'll engrave accumulators to boost the Hook's power at the expense of Chain Punches. As for the rest, I'd advise you not to rush — talk to your mentor first. She knows her stuff; she might tweak a few things. And as for making the armour — I can start in about a week."

"And you've got nothing to say about Air?"

"You don't need it right now. Focus on what's already on your plate."

Alan finished his "tea" and picked up his cinnamon bun. Then he realised it would be better to wash it down, but he had nothing left to drink. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers — the sound was sharp and unpleasant. Marco at the counter immediately turned his head.

"A glass of water, please," Alan requested.

"Want me to get you a coffee?" I offered, praying he wouldn't make me pay for another cup of tea.

"No," Alan refused, and flicked the cup. The stone inside gave a sharp click against the side and split neatly in half. "This stuff's better not mixed with other stimulants. So, are we doing the armour now, or do you want to read up on the Hook first?"

"I'll read," I decided.

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