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Chapter 6 - Flight

Lifespan, as Agent Travis relayed during the rest of the trip, varied depending on your cultivation style. Some could boost it by hundreds, or even a thousand years in the higher realms. The version Kevin thought of as Chinese-style cultivation was among the best at this.

Other types would extend your life by a lesser amount. Instead, focusing on the acquisition of power. Pure body cultivation — different from the Body Cleansing realm — was the most extreme example, providing almost no lifespan increase.

It was a choice that had Kevin scratching his head, but he supposed some people would prefer a brief life filled with power over a longer one.

The key implication here was that he’d have to choose his style carefully. Traditional cultivation sounded perfect, but the agent was quick to remind him it might be impossible. Some people just weren’t suited to it, and those with no Eastern heritage were often among them.

“There’s a doctor specializing in unusual cases we use for our outsiders,” Agent Travis said, closing out his explanation. “I’ll set up an appointment as soon as we return to headquarters. He usually leaves the last slot of the day open for us.”

Kevin shuddered, “And that’s really necessary? What about those tests from before? I’m guessing you did a bunch more while I was out of it.” He might have forgiven them for that situation — their reasoning was fair enough — but he had no desire for a repeat.

“We focused on whether you were a threat,” the agent sighed. “We weren’t interested in your cultivation potential. Nor was that doctor an expert in such matters.”

“It won’t be like that again,” he continued, his tone gentle. “That was a single, out-of-the-ordinary exception. Most doctors like to have returning patients,” he finished with a chuckle.

“Right,” Kevin nodded. If they had to run more tests, he wouldn’t argue further. Choosing the correct cultivation style was far too important. He needed one that matched his body type, aspect, and talents while also leading him in the direction he wanted.

Even before meeting the expert, he could say body cultivation was right out. There was no way he'd pick the one with the least longevity benefits. Not unless the doctor said it somehow gave a massive advantage in seeking ascension.

Before he could interrogate the agent further, the ship shuddered, the first sign of movement he’d felt since they’d taken off. The thing moved through the sky like a dream, somehow avoiding any hint of turbulence.

Perhaps it was the low altitude they were flying at? At a guess, he’d say air resistance worked differently here, at least when Qi was involved since the few flying vehicles he’d seen had stayed close to the ground.

He was beginning to suspect a lot of things were different here.

Agent Travis stood in a single, smooth motion. “We’ve landed at the support ship’s hangar. We'll take the disk I arrived on back to headquarters.”

With a jerk of his head, the agent turned to leave and Kevin hurried to follow. As usual, he was clumsy compared to the other man but tried not to let it get to him. For all he claimed that longevity was the most important part of cultivation, he couldn’t deny the obvious other benefits.

“Do most people in this world cultivate?” He asked as they strode out of the ship.

Agent Travis hummed low in his throat. “Most do, to an extent, at least. It’s the number one health recommendation from doctors and the government’s health department. However, it can take a lot of time and resources.”

“Huh?” Kevin mused, tilting his head. “I was wondering if some people weren’t allowed, or something like that. Why would anyone not go after a longer life if they could?”

“Laziness or lack of talent?” The agent shrugged. “Well, that’s harsh. Some people have blockages that would cost too much to get past, and a few others avoid it for religious or philosophical reasons.”

“But for most, I’d say, they’re just busy. Life can be hard, and you don’t always have time to fit things in.”

“I see,” Kevin nodded. It wasn’t like everyone exercised, watched their weight, or ate well on Earth. In the end, people will always be people. He had to remember that human nature didn’t change just because this world had cultivation.

You had to be motivated to improve your life.

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The support ship had landed in a vast concrete hangar, its metal roof still closing as they walked out of the hatch.

More machines were spread throughout the area; two other swans, a smaller version carved like a swallow, and a larger wooden construction modeled after a sailing ship.

It was an impressive sight; this hanger alone could field a significant force if they had to. While the swan-like ship had been near empty when he’d been aboard, he imagined they could stuff a few hundred soldiers into it if needed.

Not to mention the ones they could send in faster disks, like the team that had caught him.

Three people in flowing robes hurried over as they left, first examining the outside, and then moving into the ship. Some kind of maintenance cultivators perhaps?

The agent led him out a door at the back of the hangar and into a concrete area reminiscent of a parking lot. A half-dozen platforms had landed within it, each with a different appearance, and Travis pointed towards a bright red one near the rear.

Rather than a pure disk, the platform was shaped like a lotus, its petals overlapping to form a flat surface. It wasn’t until they grew closer that its nature became apparent.

With wonder, Kevin reached out and touched a petal, much to the amusement of the woman sitting cross-legged in the center. It was soft and pliant; was this an actual flower?

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“She’s a South-wind lotus,” the woman said, still chuckling. “Five years working for the OIM and I never tire of this reaction. You outsiders are always a breath of fresh air; it makes an old woman appreciate life again.

Wearing robes in the same red as her flower, the woman looked to be in her early-forties. He’d have said she was far from old, yet something about her gaze suggested a greater age.

With a grin, Kevin pulled himself up the flower’s four feet of height. Ignoring the easy jump Agent Travis used, he addressed the woman. “She’s amazing. I’m Kevin, by the way.”

Kevin walked forward, holding out a hand, but paused halfway. “Do people shake hands here?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for a response before continuing.

The older woman laughed, a high tinkling sound; light crinkles at the corner of her eyes were the only sign of age on an otherwise flawless face. “Holding a woman’s hand while you bow is appropriate. Clasping forearms is also a common cultivator greeting.”

Without missing a beat, Kevin moved up, holding his open palm out. Interesting. That didn’t sound like a traditional Chinese greeting, more like an adapted European one.

“Would kissing your hand be appropriate?” he asked, remembering an old custom from Earth. The woman smirked as she flickered into a standing position, laying her hand on his faster than he could keep track of.

“Only if you’re looking to court me, and I’m far too old for you,” she snorted, somehow making the sound delicate and ladylike.

“Got it,” Kevin said, half-bowing over his hand. He doubted he’d have time for romance anytime soon, but that was still useful information. While he wasn’t in a hurry, he had no desire to spend eternity alone.

Finding someone else dedicated to reaching the peak might prove difficult, however. At least he was likely to have plenty of time to look.

“Kevin,” he said, introducing himself with a bright smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Layla,” she responded, dipping into a shallow curtsy before he could step back.

As soon as he released her hand, Layla was seated again, faster than he could blink. She looked to be mediating, her eyes closed, her face calm and focused.

With a slight shudder, the flower floated into the air, as if lifted by an unseen wind.

Despite the rapid acceleration and the lack of seats on this disk, the movement felt no more dangerous than when they'd been supported by solid land. Not a hint of wind or motion disturbed the trip as if an invisible wall shielded them from the wind.

Lost in wonder, Kevin spent much of the trip staring out over the landscape. From the air, it looked much like any built-up area in America. The hanger they started at was near the edge of a colossal city, and looking past it, he could see endless miles of farmland.

In the other direction, the city spread past the horizon, a network of buildings split by narrow roads. A few wider pathways looked like major thoroughfares with vehicles of some kind going back and forth, while the rest appeared to be foot traffic only.

Much of the traffic was moving above the city, in the same manner as they were. Disks of all shapes and sizes — were the square ones still called disks? — zipped around, while above cultivators flashed across the sky held up by swords, and stranger objects.

“Does the height people are flying at mean anything?” he asked, resisting the urge to shout over a non-existent wind. The sheer stillness atop the flower was beyond surreal.

It looked like the lower altitude was busy enough to be inconvenient in places, yet few were ascending higher.

“It’s a matter of privileges,” Agent Travis shrugged, his voice calm. “The sky above the city is split into different zones. Body Cleansing cultivators are restricted to the lowest, with those in the Energy Gathering realm above.

“Those of higher realms do not have restrictions placed on them.”

Layla cut in, her eyes still closed. “It started as a safety thing, you want those who are weaker to be closer to the ground in case there’s an accident. Of course, it soon became a matter of prestige.”

“How do you stop the buildings getting damaged if someone crashes?” He asked, eying her with new respect. They were well above the bulk of the traffic, even most of those using smaller flying implements.

And he already knew Agent Travis wasn’t powerful enough to warrant their current altitude.

“All flight-capable objects are designed to float down instead of crashing to the surface,” Travis took over.“Accidents are almost always collision injuries or falls.”

“To become qualified for flight, you're required to show you can minimize your speed to avoid damage from such a fall. Both to yourself and your surroundings. As she said, this was the basis for the first rulings on flying heights.”

“I see, that makes sense,” Kevin nodded, fascinated by how the country had managed such a monumental ability as personal flight.

Did that mean Body Cleansing cultivators could slow or prevent a fall over a certain distance? What a fun, if rather terrifying, ability to learn.

The conversation slowed as the South-wind lotus descended towards a massive brick building. A raised, circular platform awaited it, and it landed with a light thump.

They’d arrived.

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“Thank you, as always, Ma’am,” Travis said as he hopped off, ignoring the short stairway to land on the main surface of the roof.

“Yeah, that was amazing. Thanks, Layla,” Kevin said, waving back as he slid onto the stairs and walked down.

“It was my pleasure. Good luck with your new life, Kevin,” Layla called from behind, still seated on her flower. “Never lose sight of that wonder and you’ll go far.”

“I won’t,” Kevin yelled over his shoulder with a broad grin, before hurrying to catch up with Travis.

“You should be more respectful,” the agent muttered as they entered a metal lift. “She was a Core Formation cultivator; who knows what she might have done if you offended her.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the other man as the lift slid into a smooth descent. “Layla was the name she gave me. If she’d shown any sign of being offended, I’d have changed my approach.”

“I’m not about to treat people like time bombs unless they give me a reason to. Besides, for a mere mortal like me, there’s no real difference between your realm and hers.”

“I doubt it would take you much longer to rip my limbs off than it would her,” he finished with a dark chuckle.

Agent Travis coughed as if he’d gotten something stuck in his threat. “Right,” he said, his tone weak. “Well, if you were taking her cues, then I might have been a little hasty in complaining.”

“That is one of the two ways to handle higher-realm cultivators. Some of them might even prefer to be treated like normal people,” he finished, his town rather doubtful.

“Got it,” Kevin nodded, paying more attention than he let on. “If one’s acting like a big douche, then bow and scrape before them. If they’re acting like a normal person, then treat them normally. Simple enough.”

From the look on the agent’s face, he wasn’t a fan of how Kevin had put it, but he didn’t argue either.

When the elevator halted, they stepped onto a massive, open-plan floor. “You’ll wait at my desk,” Agent Travis said, pointing to the left. “Looks like Susan’s still there, so she can keep you entertained while I get this filed.”

“It shouldn’t take long, then I’ll be back with your residency papers and some initial funds. Given the time, we’d better leave for the doctor after that.”

Kevin nodded, staring around at the room. While it resembled an office floor back home, everything was scaled up to eleven. Instead of tiny cubicles, the workers had expansive wooden desks, sprawling out to fill ridiculous amounts of space.

Half the space on the desks wasn’t even being used, and that didn’t consider the massive walkways between them. “Dude,” he laughed, shaking his head at the sight. “What’s deal with all this space?”

The agent hummed, glancing around as if everything was normal. “You can’t become an agent without being in the Energy Gathering realm. We wouldn’t stand for a sub-par workspace.”

“Right,” Kevin chuckled. “Anything less than this would be just sad.” Perhaps it was a good thing the contract warned him whenever he was going to talk about Earth; the poor man might have a heart attack if he heard about cubicle farms.

When they’d passed most of the desks on their way to the left corner, he realized why Agent Travis had been so unconcerned about the rest of the office.

“Bloody hell,” he snorted, staring at the most extravagant thing he’d ever seen. “Are you super important or something?”