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Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]
Chapter 8: Don’t Touch The Flower

Chapter 8: Don’t Touch The Flower

“Oh, come now. Don’t you have anything better than this? I need something beautiful for the girl that I’m going to bed tonight,” the man said. Hector couldn’t see the man’s face as he stood facing his sister, but the clumped-up brown hair and dirty slacks spoke of his hygiene level. His mud-brown shirt had a few stains, no doubt from eating the garbage scum like him usually dined on.

He was a waste.

“I’m sorry. But this is all I have. If you come back tomorrow, I could have something more to your liking.” His sister’s shaking body sent waves of something violent through Hector, but he couldn’t let it out, not like he did in the dump yesterday. Control was needed. But this fool was antagonizing her, and he couldn’t be allowed to get away with it so freely.

“Listen, I need something now. Where do you get these from? I can follow you there. Perhaps I’ll find something I like,” the man said with a sickening chuckle—it was as if a chicken was choking in his throat.

Hector drew up to the man, cracking his knuckles before resting a hand on his shoulder. “As she said, you can come back tomorrow and perhaps there’ll be something you like.” The man turned with a scowl on his pock-marked face. “But to be honest, I don’t like your attitude, so I don’t want you near her ever again.”

“And who the hell are you?” the man said, slapping Hector’s hand to the side. “Don’t come over here messing with my business and don’t touch me. Now if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something, so you can go piss off before I make you.”

That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. System, scan him.

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///: No talent found…

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“Figures,” Hector said, smiling. As instructor Kamble always said, they should use their techniques to defend themselves and the innocent, and this man had just threatened him—a form of violence. Defense was his only option now.

Hector squinted at the man, willing the system to acquire his stats. The last thing he needed was to recklessly attack someone in a higher realm than himself—he’d need to use his head, if that was the case. But looking at the man, he doubted he even cultivated.

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///: Acquiring target stats…

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///

Cultivation level: None

Talent: None

///

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The system’s message brought a smile to Hector’s lips as he looked past the man and nodded at his sister. She frowned, her eyes narrowing at him as if to say, don’t do what you’re about to do.

“Hey,” the man said, jabbing a dirty finger into Hector’s chest. Hector scowled, crinkling his nose, as a pungent smell wafted through the air. His movement seemed to have released the odors trapped within his clothing. “I told you to piss off. Imma count to ten, and if you aren’t gone, you’ll be in a world of trouble.”

Hector nodded as his sister’s mouth fell open. She understood what this idiot did not—he’d crossed a line. Threatened twice, and attacked once. Hector had more than all the justification he needed. A surge of energy rushed through his body as his muscles tensed.

A crisp thump snapped through the air as his fist slammed into the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the cobblestone. The force of the blow put him on the ground with a thud, as if he were no more than a sack of potatoes. He stilled. His face was one of absolute shock, seemingly not believing he’d been laid out. The glazed look began to fade from his eyes, but Hector’s ears pricked as he heard footsteps thundering down the cobblestone streets of Fangdale.

“You little dirt wallop. How dare you lay hands on one of my boys,” said a man as he charged down the street, two more scruffy-looking men following behind him.

“Was that really necessary?” Mirae said, adjusting her basket with both hands and looking at him for an explanation. “We’re meant to be avoiding trouble. Being good, what would father think?”

He wouldn’t think much at the moment. Too preoccupied hiding secrets he thinks we can’t handle.

“It wasn’t my fault. You saw it. He attacked me,” Hector said, rolling his shoulders and getting ready to meet the coming fight. He didn’t have time to try the new technique that instructor Kamble had shown him. Now would be a good time—he’d need all the practice he could get.

How did it go again?

Images played in his mind. The feet spacing, the movements, all of it laid out bare in a simple and easy-to-follow format. For a technique that would give an edge, it seemed rather trivial. But then again, looks could be deceiving. The man laid out on the cobblestone had learned that the hard way; he had probably thought Hector was nothing more than a brat coming to play hero.

Hector took in a deep, refreshing breath of slum air—the vile taste making him want to gag—and Mirae took a step back as the group of men drew closer. Across the street, he spotted Able at the dojo window. His eyes were wide as he looked from Hector to the approaching group of thugs. He then turned and scampered away, probably off to go and tattletale to instructor Kamble.

Seems I won’t have much time. System, scan them for Talents.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

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///: No talent found… ///: No talent found…

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Makes sense, Hector thought. He frowned. He didn’t get his hopes up, but it was still a little disappointing. At the very least, it got him into a habit, so there was that at least. He moved his focus to the last man and scanned him with the system.

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///: Talent found [Quickening Brace[•○○] (1/3)]

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It seems I spoke too soon.

The man on the right of the leading man had a talent. While Hector didn’t know what it did from its name, he guessed it had something to do with speed. Though he wouldn’t think that from his gaunt face and stick-thin arms and legs. A stiff wind would probably blow him over.

A man like that was no doubt like the fools that followed Adrian. He was just looking to survive. It seems the man at the front of the group provided that—him or the guy Hector had laid out on the floor.

As the first man closed in, Hector made his plan of attack. The lead man would have to go down first; he was bigger and more well-fed, which meant he had a lot more energy to fight than the other two. Hector cursed, wishing Lincoln was here—they could split it as they did before. But now he’d have to put in some effort.

He kicked off the cobblestone and launched towards the big man. The man swung his fist back, giving Hector the perfect opportunity to slip to the side. Hector slammed his palm into the man’s shoulder, knocking his momentum.

The other two men went for a tackle, but he slipped them and launched into the air, hooking his leg around the big guy’s neck and throwing him into one of the smaller ones. They clattered to the floor in a heap as he turned his attention to the man with the Talent.

“Shouldn’t waste the good opportunity.” In an instant, Hector lowered his stance, power ballooning in his legs before he exploded forward. His knee cracked into the man’s chin, sending him head over heels through the air. The man slapped onto the wet cobblestone with a pained groan—the idiot wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

I think that was wrong. Kamble’s one was more of a double kick.

Hector spun as a large fist filled his vision. His knees bent and the big man’s punch brushed past his face with a whistle. If that had hit, it could have been bad. Not wasting a second, he flipped backward, his foot slamming into the man’s chin, sending him stumbling backwards.

“What is with this kid?” The big man said, rubbing his chin. He glanced at the two men on the floor and then to the one man left at his side. “What are you waiting for? Grab him.”

The man’s eyes went wide, seemingly pleading with the big man, who shrugged. He then took a step forward, rushing past the man before swiveling and grabbing him by the collar of his tattered brown shirt. The man screamed as he was launched through the air towards Hector. Poor unfortunate fool. Hector wouldn’t catch him, and the floor was more than eager to. He ducked out of the way, readying himself. That was clearly nothing more than a distraction.

As he looked to where the big man stood, he hadn’t moved. Instead, he stood with a smile on his face, as if he’d caught something in a trap.

“Hector, behind you!” cried Mirae, but it was too late.

Pain exploded from his side as he staggered forward. The first man he’d laid out on the floor had gotten up at some point. “How dare you sucker punch me!” he yelled.

Before Hector could reply, a fist crashed into the side of his face. He’d been distracted, and the big guy had wasted no time. He crashed to the floor and heaved as a foot slammed into his side, throwing him back across the cobblestone and slamming into a wall.

Okay, how are they playing fair? I mean when did I even sucker-punch him? That was a full-on knockout blow.

His sides ached with pain as his head throbbed. He may have had one cultivation level on these guys, but boy could they hit hard. “I should have focused on the big guy. I need to stop wasting opportunities,” he muttered, tasting the blood and dirt in his mouth.

“Now it’s time to end this, you little dirt wallop,” the big man said, striding towards him with a proud look on his face. What was there to be proud of? He was a grown man attacking a teenager.

The man approached Hector, his shadow looming over him like a mountain of muscle. “First I want you to apologize, and then I’ll deal with you nicely,” he said, cracking his knuckles.

Hector spat a glob of blood onto the cobblestone and looked up at him as if he was an idiot. Why would he waste his time apologizing to someone like them? The fight was done, and even if it wasn’t, the apology would not be enough. So they could go and choke.

“What, not feeling in the mood to talk? Don’t worry, I can beat it out of you.” As the man readied his foot for a stomp, a small figure barreled into his side, achieving nothing. His sister bounced off the man and crashed onto the cobblestone, her basket of flowers spilling across the ground. “Wait your turn, little one. I’ll get to you.”

Over my dead body. You big bull.

Energy rushed through his body as he struggled to his feet. His sides ached and his face was beginning to swell, but that would not stop him. The man had attacked his sister and that would cost him. His feet shifted in place as he played back the instructor’s movements.

“I see you are ready for another round, being welp. Let’s—”

In an instant, Hector’s body shifted forward in a blur, his knee cracking into the man’s nose, disintegrating it into nothing but a lump of skin and fragmented bone cartilage. He landed on the ground and hopped back as the air stilled, before the big man crashed to the cobblestone with a loud wet thud. Blood leaked from his nose profusely, coating his face like a red mask.

That still wasn’t right, Damnit. I need to figure this out.

“What... crap,” Hector’s original target said. He took one look at the man, glanced at Hector, and then turned, running down the street amidst the stares of onlookers.

“Well, it seems you got the beginning of the move down,” Kamble said, approaching with the small crowd from the dojo. Jodie was a few steps behind him, with a frown on her face. Kamble glanced over the unconscious bodies and shook his head. “I don’t recognize these guys; they must be new to this part of the slum. Idiots.”

That’s the beginning of the move. Well, all right. I just have to keep practicing.

Jodie walked over to Hector and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “You’re ahead of me for now, but I’m going to reach adept level with this technique before the competition even begins, so you better stay focused.”

Hector chuckled, wincing at the spike of pain from his side. “Don’t worry, I was never one to fall behind, anyway.” He then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Besides, anything that can help with the upcoming operation will definitely have my focus.”

Jodie probably didn’t need telling, but it would be good to keep her mind on what was important at the moment. The competition was fine, but his family’s debt came first. He turned to Mirae. She was bent over with her basket, collecting flowers. “Are you all right, Mirae?”

“I couldn’t be better. I’m more upset about the flowers—and that horrible welt on your face. But mostly the flowers,” she said with a huff. “But I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”

“Come on Mirae. Don’t be upset, I was just protecting you.”

“I know.” She stood up and adjusted the basket, leaning it against her waist. The flowers that had spilled had all been placed neatly back inside. “I just feel pathetic. I mean, I have to stand out here just so you can keep an eye on me.”

“You should start cultivating,” Jodie said, stepping forward. “I’m sure instructor Kamble is eager for more students, especially with the current hardships of your family.” Jodie turned, eyeing the instructor with a provocative look.

“We don’t have the funds,” Mirae said, her voice barely a whisper, but those with cultivation could pick it up with ease.

“Instructor, surely there’s a place in our dojo for the sister of one of our greatest fighters. No expenses, right?” Jodie narrowed her gaze at Kamble as she raised an eyebrow.

The man looked from her to Hector, and then to Mirae. His eyes held a conflicted look as he swallowed and wrung his hands. “I—”