James stared with wide eyes at the scene. “A cultivator,” he whispered.

The hooded figure heard him, making a single step that put them right in front of James.

James stumbled backward in surprise. A hand darted out from under the cloak, grabbing James’s arm.

“Apologies,” the figure said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright,” James swallowed. A real life cultivator stood in front of him, a being that only existed in stories and legends. These were the grand defenders of the Empire, the great philosophers of the Academies, and the dragon-slaying adventurers that expanded the borders. And one was now making sure James hadn’t been hurt.

“Um,” James said as he felt the hand move his arm.

“I am making sure you haven’t received injury,” the cultivator said.

“I’m not hurt,” James answered.

The cultivator nodded. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

They let go of James’s arm. He let it fall to the side as he continued to stare. As the cultivator turned, the cogs in James’s brain started firing again.

“Wait!” he called, louder than he’d meant.

The cultivator turned, but as they did, three others joined, arriving from the shadows. They exuded an aura of dismissiveness despite their cloaks masking most of their bodies.

“Yes?” the cultivator asked.

James took a breath, steadying himself. He knew it was a risk, especially with how much they disregarded James. But he still had to ask. “Do you need a guide?”

This caused the group to pause. The aura the others held was replaced with slight befuddlement.

“A guide?” the cultivator who saved James asked.

“Yeah, a guide,” James answered with a nod. A part of him was screaming that he needed to be respectful, but the nervous part of James had put his facilities on autopilot. That meant a relaxed, easy facade. “You’re obviously not from the Tower, it’s not hard to see. Sure, you might be passing by and I just got lucky, but you might not be, and I know all the secret nooks and crannies people hardly go to. I bet it wouldn’t even cost you all that much either.”

The four looked between each other for a moment. “…You don’t wish to become a disciple?” the one who saved James asked.

James blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’s the usual request,” the cultivator answered.

“Yeah, but… those are stories,” James said.

“Hence our surprise,” the cultivator said.

“Look, do you want a guide or not?” James asked. “We both know you aren’t here to recruit. The stories are just that, stories. I live in the real world, with real problems.”

“Indeed,” the cultivator said, humor in their voice. “Then, I believe it would be prudent to take you up on your offer.”

Nervousness bolted through James like lightning, but he kept his easy facade. This was perhaps the greatest stroke of luck in his lifetime. Cultivators were known to be rich, richer than the agriscientists at the top of the Tower. They could pay him enough for an instant apprenticeship. From there, he could live the easy life.

“Great, let’s talk rates,” James said.

“Perhaps after you assuage the fears of your date,” the cultivator said.

“What?” James turned to see Tsukiko standing outside Greasers, fear etched across her face.

James dashed past the cultivators. “It’s okay! My new clients here saved me!”

“Clients,” Tsukiko said, her eyes flicking to the hooded figures.

James leaned in and whispered in her ear. “They’re cultivators.”

Tsukiko’s eyes widened.

James couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I know! They’re paying me to be their guide. By the end of this night I’ll have enough money to start an apprenticeship. Maybe two!”

“Just money?” Tsukiko asked.

“Of course?” James answered. Then he saw the concern on her face. “No, hey. Do you think I’m one of those idiots who’d ask them for a discipleship? You know me. I’m realistic. These guys aren’t here to recruit.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s just—“

“It’s the dream,” James finished. “I know. But you know me. I dream big, but I dream realistic. Besides, all the stories say you have to be an upstanding person to be a cultivator. We both know I’m not cut out for that.”

The woman chuckled. “Fine. But you owe me another date.”

“Oh, so this was a date then?” James asked with a smirk.

“Don’t push your luck,” Tsukiko glared, but her eyes weren’t up to the task. The glare came out closer to a look of concern. “Be safe.”

“As I’ll ever be,” James answered. Then, he took a chance and quickly wrapped Tsukiko in a hug. She stiffened in surprise, but let it happen. Then James tried to plant and kiss and got a shove for his troubles.

“Always pushing your luck,” she said with a smile.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“You know me,” James replied.

“Go make your money,” she said.

James turned and jogged back to the cultivators. “Sorry for the wait,” he said.

“It is no trouble,” the cultivator who saved him answered. They seemed to be the spokesperson for the group.

“Right, where can I take you?” James asked. “I doubt you need to head to the top of the Tower, no reason for you to be down here then. Not unless you snuck in, but I don’t see a reason for cultivators to avoid the law.”

“Not unless the law had turned corrupt,” the cultivator said. “But you are correct. We are searching for a dangerous beast that we believe escaped to the lower parts of the building.”

James nodded and started walking. “Got it. In that case your beast is likely in the Sludges.”

“Sludges?”

“What we call the lowest area of the Tower,” James replied. “The bottom six or seven floors are supposed to be a large sewage treatment plant, but way before I was born someone made the decision to stop maintaining it. The core plant still works, but most everything else has stopped or backed up. The bottom twenty or so floors are now constantly covered in sewage. Only the desperate really live there. The gangs don’t even stay there, though they do recruit.”

“Which floors do the gangs reside?” the cultivator asked.

“You think a gang has control of that escaped beast?” James asked.

“Something like that.”

“Mostly the floors above the sludges,” James said. “Probably up to the fiftieth floor? Past that is where all the farms start and the agriscientists crack down hard on anything that would disrupt production.”

“Then we should begin our search on those floors,” the cultivator said.

James was tempted to press the cultivator with questions, but he squashed the notion. There was no reason for him to upset the apple cart with his curiosity. All he had to do was focus on getting paid, no matter how much his curiosity picked at him.

It was obvious to James the cultivators weren’t chasing an actual beast. No gang had the power to tame a beast that required a cultivator’s presence, meaning they were here for some other reason.

They were coming close to one of the elevators. James looked at the cultivator. “Alright, which gang do you want to start with. The biggest? The angriest? The ugliest?”

“The most vicious,” they answered.

James made a face. “That would be the Vipers, you beat some of their thugs earlier.”

“Is it a problem?” the cultivator asked.

“No,” James said. “Not unless you mind paying more for hazard pay.”

“Do not worry,” the cultivator said. “We will make sure you are protected and well paid.”

“Then that just leaves one more question. Official or unofficial path?” James asked.

“Unofficial, I should think,” the cultivator answered. “I expect the gangs monitor your official paths.”

“Then follow me,” James said.

He walked past the elevator toward a smaller opening at the back of the elevator. It was circular, large enough for a person to step through if they crouched. A buzzing could be heard from inside.

“So I don’t expect you to have any trouble with this being cultivators and all,” James said. “But I figure best to keep you informed anyway. This here is the central drone chute, and if you’re wondering why it’s so close to the elevator that’s because they use the same tube. I usually don’t travel this way unless I need to make an express delivery or quick escape because of the tide of drones flying around.”

“Rather dangerous for a mortal,” the cultivator said.

James shrugged. “You need good vision and reflexes, sure, but it isn’t that insane.”

The buzzing grew louder and James stepped to the side, watching as a drone shot from the opening. “The Vipers mainly sit on the thirty-sixth floor, mostly because they’re one of the more proactive recruiters. Thirty-six is just far enough from the smell but close enough for a quick ‘recruitment’ drive in the sludges.”

“From your tone it sounds as if the recruitment is involuntary,” the cultivator said.

James nodded as he slid into the opening, his voice echoing. “Vipers got a hold of a drug printer or something. Use it to make all sorts of cocktails and test it on the recruited. That’s why they all look like they do. Steroids or something.”

James pressed against the floor as another drone buzzed over him. He heard the others do the same behind him. He crossed the bend up ahead, which revealed a wide opening filled with multitudes of drones. They traveled about like colonies of flies, erratically moved milliseconds before they collided with each other. James shouted over the din. “Journey from here is about ten floors! I mostly get by jumping from opening to opening but I bet you could all make the jump in one go if I point it out!”

“Correct.”

James felt himself get picked up off the ground. “Woah, a little warning next time.”

The cultivator didn’t answer.

“Fine, I’ll just bill extra,” James said. He pointed to a small hole in the distance. “That’s where you want to head!”

The cultivators jumped as one, their cloaks unfurling behind them and revealing their features to James. The one holding him was a burly man with a face of square stone, his face pressed in concentration. The two next to him had similar features. Brother and sister most likely. They both had young faces but their eyes betrayed their age.

The last cultivator, however, left James starstruck. Her face was like a moon, radiant and watchful, with blue-white eyes that shone like starts. Framing her face was a river of midnight hair tied together loosely at the very end with a jade pendant. For the first time, James knew what it was like to be in the presence of something greater than himself. It left him with awe.

They landed softly on the edge of the opening, the stone-faced cultivator setting James down with ease.

“Wow,” James said breathlessly. “That was amazing.”

“Hear that, Seok? You’re amazing?” One of the siblings teased.

Seok only grunted.

“We best continue,” the woman with midnight hair said.

“Right,” James answered. “Viper’s den is this way.”

James led the group out to the thirty-sixth floor. A pungent smell washed over the group, the lingerings of various trash.

“God I always forget how little the Vipers care to clean up around here,” James coughed.

He stepped over a discarded piece of fruit, the scraps of flesh left on it covered in insects. The area around them held piles of collected trash, most of it discarded foodstuff. James turned his nose up at the discarded excess. Only a Viper would care so little about recycling material.

“Their main hideout is this way,” James said. “We can travel by rooftop.”

James dashed toward a wall, stepping up it to grab an extruded piece of pipe that he used to pull himself up. He stepped off it toward one of the many prevalent streetlights, shimmying up until he had enough height to launch himself onto the roof. He landed with a roll on the sturdy concrete, patting himself off as he jumped up. The cultivators were already next to him, the siblings giving him a wry smile.

“This way,” James said, mentally increasing the billing again. He’d put psychological trauma from the siblings’ smile or something. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t leap a building in one go.

The group followed James as he skillfully maneuvered his way across the rooftops. A few minutes later James was sucking in breaths of air as he landed on the roof a street away from the Viper’s main hideout. He’d gone a bit harder than usual, some competitive drive that reared its ugly when the siblings gave him that mocking smile. The cultivators still kept up easily.

“There,” James said between breaths.

“Thank you,” the cultivator with midnight hair said. “We will be sure to reward you handsomely once this is completed.”

“Got it,” James said. “I’ll just wait around here then.”

The woman nodded, then directed a hand to one of the siblings.

“Aw, do I have to?” they asked.

“We promised to protect him.”

“Fine,” the sibling grumbled. They moved to stand next to James, procuring a strip of paper from somewhere under their robes.

The cultivator grabbed the paper with one hand, their fingers moving faster than a drone’s hover blades as it folded the paper. The other hand darted about, pulling and pinching at the folded sheet. Soon, a shape took form, the paper elongating past what it had originally been to form a complex snowflake of a circle.

The cultivator tossed it on the ground. “Stand or sit over this, doesn’t matter which.”

James nodded, stupefied at the sight. He sat cross-legged on the ground over the paper. A shimmering field appeared and surrounded James like a glass window.

The cultivators left, leaving James alone at the top of the building.