John awoke for the third time. He was in a large rectangular room, concerningly there didn't appear to be any doors, just smooth stone walls. He was sitting on a simple chair and wearing a simple robe in the cultivator-daoist style. Nothing visually restrained his body but he found himself unable to move his limbs or stand up, though his head was able to turn freely. A dozen or so other young men and women sat in a line with him in identical robes. Finally, an old looking cultivator stood in the center of the room looking at the group.

"Good morning to you all." The cultivator paused as many people shook their heads and mouthed agitatedly, no sound escaped their mouths however.

"All your questions will be answered in time. The important point is this: you have been chosen by the Rainy Cloud Sect due to your high compatibility with a very special type of qi."

John was starting to get a little worried at this point, he knew for a fact he had shattered spirtual roots. Intensely shattered. John wasn't compatible with any type of qi. Is this really Heaven opening a window when a door closes?

The cultivator continued speaking, despite continued silent protesting. "Due to the unique nature of the Weird qi, your training will be slightly different from our regular disciples. As the first batch of the Special disciples, Core elders will be watching over your training, which will begin now." He waved his hand an a dozen or so white pills shimmered into the air and floated toward all the disciples.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

John had largely been silent so far, mostly from the shocking past twelve hours of his consciousness, but this crossed a line. No one had asked him his opinion in the matter, and now he was supposed to begin training and take strange drugs?! The mysterious force holding him in place forced his mouth open as the pill approached. It felt like the pill was shoved down his throat by extraordinary long fingers. John choked and coughed, his eyes watering in the pain and humiliation.

The chairs started to shuffle around the room as the walls moved, revealing small cells of the same blank stone. Each disciple was carried off in their seat to a different room before the stone wall closed again. John was cut off from everyone else, alone in the dim room. A small light glowed from the ceiling roughly ten feet up. A wide hole featured prominently in the center of the floor. A moment later it became obvious why, as John's gut started to rumble uncontrollably, and a cold sweat broke out across his body. A few moments later the chair and his robe evaporated into nothingness.

'Those damn cultivator dogs!' John was outraged but he could do nothing as the upset in his bowel spread to stomach, and a prickling itching sensation flowed along his skin. Over the next several hours he was forced to expel impurities from his body, black sludge spilling from his orifices and pores. Several times the door would open and buckets of water poured over him before quickly closing again, washing away some of the filth.

Alone and deprived of his dignity and family, John wept.