Again James stood before a behemoth of a structure. Unlike the more utilitarian skyscrapers around it, the building in front stood as a marvel to ancient architecture. Metal and concrete still draped the building, but had been painted and treated to resemble polished wood. Bright red roofs separated by sweeping balconies rose high into the sky.

“Why is everything in this city so big?” he mildly complained.

Nadia chuckled. “Prestige, mostly. The larger and more impressive your building, the more people take notice.”

“Seems like the worst dick-measuring contest,” James said.

“An inaccurate statement considering the abundance of female cultivators,” Nadia said.

“It’s a metaphorical dick,” James answered. “Anyone can have one of those.”

“I shall take your word for it,” Nadia said. “Now, follow.”

“So this whole place belongs to your family?” James asked as he stared at the circular building.

“Correct,” Nadia said. “It is a combination of many facilities but mainly holds records of the many martial techniques we’ve acquired over the years. I plan to find one for you.”

“How is this different than normal exercise?” James asked as they walked into the building. A line of servitors, armed in each of their four mechanical hands, came over with a porcelain faced woman.

“Martial techniques exercise both the mind and body, helping to link your physical and mental states,” Nadia said as she held her handheld computer up to the woman.

“Welcome, Ms. Nadia,” the woman said. “If there is anything I can assist you with, let me know.”

“Thank you,” Nadia said. She turned to James. “Now, where were we?”

“Talking about martial techniques,” James said. “And how they link my body and mind.”

“Yes. By practicing the technique, you will be able to grow closer to the metastate, and once you’ve achieved the state, continued practice will allow you to further your understanding.”

“Cool,” James said.

The two walked past more servitors, these equipped with multiple manipulators. Beside them walked more porcelain-faced men and women, most of them conversing with each other in terms James couldn’t understand. They looked at Nadia with respect, and at James with mild curiosity.

James waved at the ones brave enough to make eye contact with him, but all he got for his troubles were more befuddled stares.

“Friendly place,” James muttered.

“They are not used to guests,” Nadia said.

James decided to wave despite the looks. Being friendly took little effort. He was sure that, eventually, someone would wave back.

Nadia led James through the circular corridors and up a maze of moving stairways. They eventually stopped in front of a glass wall, the other side filled with leatherbound books. Glass doors in front hissed open, sending dry, warm air James’s way.

“What is this place?” James asked.

“The Arts Library,” Nadia said. “A number of preserved original techniques lie here.”

“What are these?” James asked, reaching a hand out to touch the book.

“Careful now!” A wheezing voice called. “Don’t want you to lose a finger! Those books bite!”

James recoiled, only to realize from the hiccuping laughter that he’d been pranked.

“Eheh! Got you good I did,” the voice said. “Now, what brings dear old Nadia and her newcomer to my dry and humble abode.”

“Hello Kevin,” Nadia said kindly.

“Kevin? Kevin!” the voice cackled. “Nadia, you know that name lacks atmosphere! A Kevin does not work at an archive of knowledge, no no!”

“Where is the voice coming from?” James asked.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder. James turned to see an upside down old man head, gray nose hairs waving at him. The head led to a neck, which continued upward toward a spindly spiderlike torso hanging from the ceiling. Two feet and four hands gripped a series of bars above the stacks of books. The last two hands grabbed James on the shoulders and squeezed.

“Nadia! This here’s a nice, strong lad isn’t he? Where did you find this one?” Kevin asked.

“Tower Ten,” Nadia said.

“Oh! One of the vertical farms!” Kevin cheered. “Lovely places, filled to the brim with wonderful foods. Tried to have a honeymoon at one once, but then I remembered I’m married to my work!”

Kevin slapped his knee with an arm, his hiccuping laugh shaking the gray nose hair still near James’s face.

“Get it?” Kevin asked after his laugh finished. “I can’t exactly pick up the whole building and take it over, can I?”

The explanation caused another round of hiccuping laughter that brought Kevin down to the ground. James watched as the appendages on his body twisted like clock hands to set him on the floor. Once there, Kevin rolled his shoulders and offered James a hand.

“Now, don’t believe a word out of Nadia’s mouth, you hear? The name isn’t Kevin, it’s Nevik. Nevik is an appropriately mysterious name for an appropriately cryptic archivist.”

James took the offered hand and produced a winning smile. “Good to meet you, Nevik.”

The old man smiled. “Oh, I like this one! What can your resident cryptic archivist do for you?”

“He needs a martial technique,” Nadia said.

Kevin leaped back, three of his hands grabbing the bookshelf behind to lift him higher. “Egads, Nadia! You’re training a disciple?”

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Nadia rolled her eyes at the exaggerated display. “Is it that surprising?”

“Nadia! The Calm Pearl Lake! Nadia! The Serene Ocean! Nadia! The One Who Has More Titles Than I Have Hands! That Nadia is training a cultivator! And a farm boy at that!”

“Courier, actually,” James said.

“Oho! Even further down the proverbial totem pole! Nadia, have you grown senile in old age?” Kevin twisted his head around.

“I promised him safety,” Nadia said, as if that explained everything.

Kevin laid three hands below his chin. “How vague. Surely there is more to the story.”

“Just as surely as you would gossip,” Nadia said.

Kevin placed his hands across his chest. “Alas! I have been wounded! A betraying blow from a dear friend! Gossip? I take offense to the statement.”

James laughed. It was hard for him not to. With so many serious events one after another, this eccentric archivist was a breath of fresh air. An absurd breath of fresh air, but a breath all the same.

“Kevin, please,” Nadia almost pleaded. “I understand you find joy in this, and any other time I would assuredly regale you with the tale. To our collective chagrin, that is not to be. Circumstances have placed James on a timer, one where every moment of time counts.”

Kevin paused in his jovial jokings. “Well, it must be dire if you don’t have time for my antics. Very well, let us find your good disciple an appropriate technique!”

The six-armed man turned back to James. Two of the hands again laid themselves on shoulders, while the other four started picking up and placing books. James watched in awe as each arm worked independently, bringing their quarry up to Kevin’s face for less than a second before moving back to the shelves.

All the while, Kevin muttered. “Wiry body, this one. A good base for most arts but completely unsuited to techniques with little mobility. He would find himself stuck between a rock and a hard place one day if we went that route.”

Kevin chuckled at his pun before continuing on. He moved his hands down James’s shoulders and to his arms, pulling them in different directions. James looked at Nadia in mild alarm but calmed when he say her face hadn’t changed.

Kevin continued mubling. “A flexible body as well. Good for circular techniques, redirection. Might be able to meet force with force but would require lengthy training sessions. If he is on a short timer it would be best to build on his base. Yes, flexible techniques involving redirection. Now, the only question is which kind?”

Kevin looked up at James. “If you were in a fight, what is your first course of action?”

“Run,” James said easily. “If they chase, use the environment to my advantage.”

“Smart, smart,” Kevin said. “Rules out the more mechanical techniques like Transistor Touch Arts and Gear Fists, though Engine Steps might work. Perhaps by branching into Jet Palms? Would allow one to move great distances quickly.”

“I’d rather make sharp turns,” James said.

“Yes… I suppose you would, living in a crowded area like Tower Ten,” Kevin mused. “More natural techniques then. Furnace Tiger Arts are always an excellent choice, but perhaps too predatory. All strike first, strike fast, and never let up. No, you strike me as a more responsive person. Look and listen first.”

“Right,” James said.

“Arts from scavengers are out as well. Opportunistic, sure, but uses every dirty fighting trick in the books and then some.”

“I’m fine with that,” James said.

“Ah,” Kevin replied. “So you say. However, you would find your fellow cultivators more than a touch disapproving. Would likely attack you for it. Leave your body in a ventilator.”

“I’m already a target,” James said, surprised that he was telling Kevin this. “Not like this could make it worse.”

“Would give them good pretense,” Kevin said as he wiggled James’s fingers. “But already a target? Must be something special then. Something special might require the less honorable techniques. Always good to have a surprise up your sleeve. Strong fingers. Toes as well?”

“I guess?” James answered.

“Mobile technique that tends to deflect and also has a few surprises up its sleeve. Not many techniques out there with that set of requirements,” Kevin mused.

“Oh,” James said sullenely.

“Good thing you’re in my Arts Library then!” Kevin cackled. “I have three such techniques perfect for one such as you.”

James watched as Kevin’s hands manuevered to a screen on the side of the bookcase. With a swipe, some taps, and a pinching motion, Kevin sent the bookshelf behind him flying into the distance, another coming to replace it a moment later. A hand grabbed a bright red tome from the shelf before the stacks were once again whisked away into the distance. Kevin grabbed another book from the next stack, this one brown, and another from the last, a faded blue tome.

“Now, one of these is incomplete,” Kevin explained, his hand shaking the red tome. “But that doesn’t make it an unworthy choice. One often finds it a simple task to combine techniques at higher levels. The other two are complete but ancient.”

“And that’s a problem?” James asked. Shows on the viewscreen back at Tower Ten loved talking about how powerful ancient techniques were.

“Only if you aren’t smart enough to adapt the art for a more modern setting,” Kevin explained. “What people often forget is that technology marches on. Why, a thousand years ago cultivators were hired to transport goods across the wilds! Now we have the trains and the anti-beast spellgrams to keep them safe. It’s only reasonable to assume some of these techniques need a software update.”

“So which techniques do you have for me?” James asked.

“The incomplete one is SpiderByte Fang Arts,” Kevin said. “It is an ambush focused art that teaches one to blend into their surroundings. As you no doubt suspect, it also uses poison and a variety of movement skills to keep one safe. However, most of the movements and poisons are lost, the result of some careless moron burning the location of the original documents.

“The second skill is Greasmonkey Palms. This is the more recent of the two out of date techniques and holds many deflection, redirection, and movement skills. It, however, is a straightforward set of skills that leaves little to the imagination.”

“Pass on that one then,” James said. “Being predicatble gets you killed.”

Kevin tossed the book back onto the shelf. “And away it goes. Now, this last one is an old technique indeed, from before the times of the trains and spellgrams. While it is old, a smart cultivator will find many of the skills inside useful for the modern day.”

Kevin held up the dull brown book. “This here is the Stochastic Simian Arts. It attempts to combine the agility of a monkey into random patterns that will throw the opponent off guard. There is less redirection techniques but plenty of movements. However, as it is old, many of the movements and redirections are easy to predict. It would take someone skillful, or a good teacher, to bring the techniques to the modern era.”

James looked between the SpiderByte Fand and Stochastic Simian books. “Which would be better for me?” He asked Nadia.

“At the moment? Either,” Nadia said. “SpiderByte Fang will give you stealth and the ability to fight opponents with little danger to yourself. Stochastic Simian will give you more options if you end up in a fight, but you must work harder to make those options effective.”

“What if I took both?” James asked.

Kevin slapped his knee with his free hands. The resulting rat-a-tat-tat echoed across the room. “Ha! The young one wants to run before he can walk!”

“It is a valid question,” Nadia said, ignoring Kevin. “It is possible to combine techniques, but it requires great amounts of experience and familiarity in one of the techniques. If not, the techniques will clash inside your body and mind, resulting in torn muscles and in the worst case broken nodes.”

Kevin barked a laugh. “Nadia that’s putting it mildly! People can explode if they use the wrong techniques together!”

“What!” James shouted.

“Saw it myself,” Kevin nodded. “A cultivator came in trying to learn two ancient techniques at the same time, wouldn’t listen when we told him not to. He puffed up like a balloon not two minutes later. Floated right to the top of the building before popping like a ripened grape between your fingers.”

James made a face.

“He is lying to you,” Nadia said. “That is the story we tell children.”

“Nadia! Are you calling me a liar?” Kevin asked.

“James is an adult,” Nadia said. “I will not treat him like a child, no matter how young he is compared to you and I.”

“You ruin all the fun,” Kevin said.

“We have again strayed off course,” Nadia said. “James. I do not wish to rush your decision, but the sooner you choose a technique the sooner we can begin training. The sooner we start the faster we will unlock your node.”

James looked between the two tomes in front of him, debating his choices. SpiderByte Fang Arts were perfect to stay in the shadows and out of trouble, while the Stochastic Simian Arts would keep his opponents off guard. Both had their merits and demerits. Staying in the shadows would be difficult with James already in the proverbial spotlight, and the other technique needed updating to fit the modern era.

In the end, however, the choice was clear.

“Stochastic Simian Arts,” James said, reaching out for the book.