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Chapter 17: Drugs, Drugs, Drugs

Drew crashed into the soft green ground, tumbling over and over until he slammed into a tree with a painful stop. He lay there, gasping, his chest heaving as he took in deep breaths. He’d escaped—barely.

It was a close call. Too close for his liking.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the sharp pain on his right side. That was where the Poison Fog Crab had struck him. The pain was tolerable but persistent.

Ahead of him was the small green plant containing the hidden trial he’d just survived. He hadn’t been trapped in it like Milia—that part of his theory was right, at least. Although he hadn’t managed to gather clues on other hidden trials or learn about Milia’s enemies, entering the trial hadn’t been a complete loss.

The whole point was to grow stronger, and this trial had yielded a Tier 2 rare monster. He couldn't be happier with the results. Now he just needed to be strong enough to capture it. But at his current level, that would be suicide.

He needed to advance quickly, to break through to the next realm. Still, in Realm 0, Level 6, he faced an uphill climb to gain four more levels. Under normal circumstances, that would take months. But with the money he’d received from Bein’s family, he could afford cultivation-boosting drugs to speed up the process.

True, he didn’t have enough Core points to buy the more potent boosters from the school.

There were places outside campus where he could get similar resources. They were cheaper at school—almost 50% less—and, besides, school rules prohibited first-years from buying cultivation aids off-campus. Otherwise, restrictions like limiting students' meal portions would be meaningless if they could simply buy food elsewhere.

The black market was also out. He was convinced someone there had been watching him, so he’d settle for the basics.

Yawning, Drew headed to the item shop. He bought fourteen 'Tier 1 Mind Accelerating Candles' and fourteen 'Tier 1 Ferna Risers.'

The first item was a small black candle, about the length of a finger. When lit, it released a fragrance that boosts your thinking capabilities. The Ferna Riser, a small round blue pill, increased the amount of Ferna in one’s body, helping him clear impurities faster.

In total, his purchases cost around 840 white marbles. Each Ferna Riser cost forty white marbles, while the candles were half that. Despite the existence of green marbles, most transactions were made in white marbles. It was a cultural tradition in the Mufru clan, showing respect for ancestors and the first currency they’d ever used.

Not that Drew cared too much. The funds came from his bank account—or rather, a “sponsored” account set up by the school, which allowed his sponsor to deposit funds directly for his use. He couldn't deposit any money in it, unfortunately.

With his purchases safely tucked into a straw bag, Drew headed to his favorite spot to cultivate: the classroom. It was daytime, and classes were still in session, but he didn’t need to pay attention.

He entered, noticing Miss Maroon at her desk, scribbling in a long notebook with a delicate stroke of her fingernails. She glanced at him but said nothing. He appreciated her attempt to hide her irritation.

When Drew reached his usual seat, he found milk poured across both the desk and chair. A scratch carved into the desk read, “Jump off a cliff, cheater.”

Drew paused, sighed, and then calmly exchanged the milk-stained seat and desk for Bein’s. Miss Maroon shot him a warning look but didn’t intervene. She shook her head in disappointment and went back to her notes.

Settling down, Drew took out one of each item he’d bought: a Ferna Riser and a Mind Accelerating Candle. Miss Maroon stopped writing, eyes narrowing as she looked at him.

“Where are you getting the money for those?” she asked.

“They haven’t told you? I got a sponsor.”

Her expression shifted. “And who might that be?”

“Bein’s father. The name’s not memorable.”

She blinked in disbelief. “You’re joking?”

“I’m sure you can verify it yourself.”

“Maybe I will… later.”

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Drew smirked as he lit the candle, rubbing the string between his fingers until the flame caught. A plume of thick, honey-scented smoke rose into the air, its sweet fragrance heavy and inviting. The scent didn’t spread far, but it was potent, filling the small space around him with a sharp clarity. Within moments, Drew felt his mind shift—thoughts quickened, racing to form new ideas and connections.

Next, he popped the Ferna Riser into his mouth. There wasn’t much of a sensation at first, just a faint bubbling in his stomach, but he knew it would take effect soon enough. He leaned back, resting his head on the cool surface of the desk, and let himself slip into his mind space.

Inside, his Ferna reserves felt stronger, and impurities stood out sharply. With a determined focus, he began working quickly to cultivate. This would be his schedule for the next two weeks: cultivating from sunrise until nightfall, with breaks only for meals, necessities, and the daily routine of bringing Milia fruits and chatting with her.

Only three days had passed, and he already felt the strain of the drugs and relentless cultivation taking a toll on him.

Each day after those initial three, Drew appeared more worn down at the hospital. He moved a little slower, with less energy, and dark rings formed under his eyes, growing deeper with each visit.

He now wore a long-sleeve white shirt and black pants, hoping to conceal the wounds on his arms from the Poison Fog Crab. It was mostly pointless, though—the burns on his face were clearly visible. While not severe, they were still noticeable.

Milia was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her gaze fixed on him. “Alright, tell me the odds. This is the fourth time I’ve asked: where did you get those burns? Either you tell me not to worry about it, or you finally tell me what’s really going on.”

Drew shrugged. “I could lie.”

She sighed, giving him a weary look. “You’re getting bullied, I suspect.”

“It’s more likely I’d be the one doing the bullying.”

“Uh-huh… Then why haven’t you taken a healing pill? Can’t afford it?”

“I can.”

“They’re expensive, especially for people in the lower economic classes.”

“No, really, I can afford—”

“And you must be spending all the money you do get on these fruits you keep bringing me,” she interrupted, raising a brow. “That must be the source of your stress.”

“Shut up and let me speak. I’m not poor. And even if I were, what would it matter? I live on campus. Points determine what I eat, not money.”

“I don’t know. But since I’m apparently not guessing it… what is it, then?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise that explains why you look incredibly tired?”

“Not for you. I don’t care for you to that extent.” He smirked. “But it will surprise you when you find out.”

She raised an eyebrow, then smirked back. “Does it involve beating someone up?”

“You like violence too much.”

“Not really.”

"Too much to me."

"That would be ironic since it seems you're always in conflict."

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Milia’s mood shifted instantly to one of irritation. “Yes?”

Palio entered, his smile strained, barely keeping itself in place. “Are you still refusing our assistance in healing your—”

“Yes,” she cut him off.

He fidgeted with his fingers, tracing his thumb along his pinky.

Drew, noticing this habit, asked, “Is that just a quirk of yours?”

Palio looked confused. “What?”

“You’re always tracing your pinky with your thumb.”

Palio stilled and replied, “Oh. It’s just a habit.” He left awkwardly, closing the door behind him.

Drew turned back to Milia. “I can see why you don’t trust him.”

***

A week passed, and within that time, Drew reached level 8.

The classroom was quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes at night. The faint glow of a single candle on Miss Maroon’s desk cast long shadows across the room, leaving most of it shrouded in darkness.

She never used candles, so it probably was for aesthetic reasons.

The air felt cool, carrying the smell of old paper and ink. Outside, the night sounds—crickets chirping and the occasional rustle of leaves—drifted in through the thin walls.

Drew sat at his desk, feeling the weight of exhaustion drag him down. His body was sore, his head heavy, and his eyes were too tired to stay open. He blinked often, trying to focus. He was alone except for Miss Maroon, who sat at the far end of the room. She looked up from her notes every so often, watching him with a quiet, steady gaze.

The classroom was eerily still without the usual noise of students. It felt different now, almost too empty.

She watched him from her desk, probably wondering why the headmaster hadn’t intervened yet.

She had confirmed Drew’s claim about his sponsor, astonished to find that he wasn’t lying about who it was. Yet it made no sense to her. She was aware that the second-year student who “accidentally” injured Drew had ties to the Lesh family—Bein’s family name.

To investigate further, she asked Morale, the school’s head investigator, to replay footage of the incident. Morale, tasked with keeping an eye on Drew, could capture video of whatever he observed. However, he claimed he hadn’t been monitoring Drew at that particular moment, leaving Miss Maroon unable to determine what truly transpired that led the Lesh family to support Drew so openly. To her, it seemed impossible—surely, Drew, a thirteen-year-old boy, couldn’t have forced their hand.

Drew reached for another candle, his fingers trembling slightly as he struck a match, the sharp scent of sulfur briefly filling the air before the flame ignited. He held it to the wick, and the small flame flickered to life.

Usually, all you needed to do was rub the string to ignite it, but Drew was so tired that the idea of rubbing it sounded far more exhausting than simply using a match.

The soft, steady glow from the candle illuminated his worn face, casting sharp shadows on the desk as the thick, sweet-smelling smoke began to curl upward. The scent was soothing, yet there was an edge to it.

He inhaled deeply, the fragrance thick in his lungs, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to blur. His mind sharpened, focusing in on the task ahead. This was no time for rest, no time for weakness. His body might feel like it was on the verge of breaking, but his determination burned brighter than any fatigue.

This week, he thought, he would push himself beyond his limits. He would ascend to a realm, no matter the cost. His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.

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