“Can you teach me about martial arts?”
“Nah, bro, I was so fucking strong that I simply mowed everyone down. I regretted not learning martial arts, because you can get lots of ladies with it.”
Res sighed and buried his face in his right hand: “What did I expect?”
When asking around for a respected martial art school, everyone he asked chuckled at him and recommended the flying crane school. The weird behavior confused him, but when he was standing in front of the training school, he quickly realized why everyone was mocking him. The school building was made of white polished marble and tens of ornate carriages stood waiting in front of the school. If he were to apply for training in there, he would eventually be found out. Res wasn’t discouraged as there had to be more than one martial art school. After two hours of visiting every reputable martial art school in his immediate area, he realized that martial art was mostly reserved for nobility and rich merchants for self-defense.
The only other group that practiced martial arts were thugs, bouncers and various other shady personages. That is how he finally ended up in front of the most beat down warehouse he had ever seen. In front of the warehouse stood two inconspicuous looking men, but Res could feel how the aether bent around them. They weren’t simple. Other shady schools had hulking figures standing guard in front, but Res knew that those two could probably take on ten of the muscular giant’s that stood guard in front of the other schools. Res retreated into the black abyss of his mind and processed everything that had passed and what he will do. After half an hour, he opened his eyes and strode towards the two rugged men. Both of them subtly placed their hands on their short swords when they saw Res.
“They don’t underestimate me. A rare trait.”
“Bro, you are totally in the role of Jet Li. Now do your macho thing!”
One of the men took a menacing step forward and called out: “State your business!”
Res kept walking towards the two men. “I want to join the school.”
“Do you have a recommendation?”
“No, but I am sure we can come to an agreement.”
One man extended a hand: “Place your hand on mine.”
When Res did as asked, the man broke out into laughter. “A brain core wants to join the school. Boy, you are so funny that Orson just might agree.”
“Can I meet this mysterious leader?”
The tension went out of both of the men as they now knew his power level. “Sure, but don’t blame us if your ass gets kicked out.”
Res entered the warehouse and was greeted by one of his most dreaded sights. All around the room, athletic young men nearly twice the height of Res lifted giant wooden trunks repeatedly, all the while they were hit with wooden staves by instructors that screamed at them. In another corner, burly men were doing pushups while their instructor sat on top of them and shouted at them in a wide variety of swearwords. In the middle of the room, two giant sailors were exchanging punches with such force and speed that Res could feel the breeze the fist’s impact created from fifty meters away.
One man had turned to Res with a mocking smile and asked: “Have you decided otherwise?”
Res shook his head as if he knew what he was doing. The man grinned wildly just like that was the answer he was hoping for and led Res into a small cabin in one corner of the warehouse. After knocking, a deep voice called out: “Come in, you landlubbers.” and so they did. The small room only consisted out of a brawny sailor in his fifties sitting in a chair in front of a table filled with paper sheets.
“Boss, I have some fun to divert you from your paperwork.”, one man whispered conspiratorially and then promptly left the room.
The man stretched out one of his tattoo-marked hands: “I assume you want to join. Place your hands on mine.” Just as the guards at the entrance, the man, apparently their boss laughed. ”Do you know what we are?”
“A martial art school?”
“Some would refute that. Some would call us ‘Brawlers’. Imagine it like this: We steal all the good stuff from different schools and leave out the bad. The problem is: You have a brain core and our fighting style, farmer’s wrath, doesn’t just use kicks or punches. We use all we have. We have no rules. One error on your part could leave you paralyzed for life.”
At the hard tone of the man, he realized the man, Orson, wouldn’t budge on that point. Res put his remaining forty coppers on the table and announced: “Forty coppers and I am allowed to only watch. I will promise I will not interfere with your training.”
Orson’s hesitation clashed with greed in his eyes and finally greed won out. “Alright, but you are only allowed to watch.”
Res thanked the school principal and left to watch the training. Usually, James would always comment on Res’s ongoing affairs, but he was eerily quiet through the entire conversation. Finally, a defeated sigh from James signaled that he had reached some sort of decision. “Bro, you know that I said that you using aether hurts right?”
“Yes?”
“I have been thinking about it and I have concluded that we should upgrade, even though it hurts. I have been putting off telling you about this, but I really know a lot of things about the human brain. A dear friend of mine was a brain core and, in my world, every child learns about the different processes in the human body. If you want to have a stable cultivation, you will have to know about the place where you put your aether. Before I tell you all of my knowledge, you will have to learn how to circulate aether in the part of your brain responsible for memory.”
After Res made himself comfortable on a spot on the ground, Res learned how to stimulate what James called the Frontal lobe to boost his reasoning and the hippocampus for memory.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Bro, if I tell you to, start to circulate aether for memory. Then I will tell you everything I know about the human body. With your perfect memory you should be able to replay that as many times as possible with the reasoning part of your body. With that knowledge, we build your foundation. If someone knows the exact location and function of the part where they store their aether, they can be extremely efficient and exponentially increase their power in the long run. Are you ready for some discovery channel shit? 3,2,1 Go!”
Everything in the world shut off when he boosted his memory – no sight, no sound, no feeling. Only James’s voice droned on about the different types of cells, neurons and even quarks. After one hour of talking, James couldn’t remember any more information and Res proceeded to processing the data. When he replayed the memory, he couldn’t believe how small his previous world view had been and probably still was. After four hours of thinking, he thought he had a complete grasp on the knowledge and stopped circulating aether.
“Bro, did you get everything?”
“Yes, I still can’t believe there are such small organisms. I am made of many tiny organisms.”
“That’s science, baby. By the way, some people checked if you were dead when you used cycled aether. Now it’s time to rebuild your brain.”
When Res opened his eyes, he saw that the warehouse was mostly deserted as most of the trainees had gone to work as bouncers in the different establishments. Only a single lamp still burnt in the shed at the corner of the warehouse.
“Do you think it’s okay if we do it here?”
“Bro, I don’t know any place that would be more private. The first step of brain core cultivation is the complete substitution of normal cells with aether. What do you want to change today?”
“Let’s try to change the glia cells.”
“Are you mad? They make up over 75% percent of your brain!”
“You said that they are only supporting the true ‘brain’ – The neurons.”
“That’s true but they still make up … You know what? Never mind. Channel the aether into the glia cells. Fuck. Do it. I am ready for pain.”
Res felt around the room with all his senses and thought about the weights around the room. “Weights. Weights are nothing until we use them. Potential.”
With a snap, he felt the potential all around him and greedily pulled it in. He imagined the form of the glia cells he had heard about from James and their job to provide support and protection for the neurons. He thought about every little scrap of information he had previously stashed away in his mind and willed the aether to assume that potential. Sweat flowed down his body like a river and his head heated up dangerously. When he felt like it was complete and he opened his eyes, he stared right into the eyes of the school’s boss, Orson.
Orson’s deep blue eyes pierced in his soul. “Are you stupid? Do you know what you have just done? Quickly, move it!”
The elderly but stout man grabbed Res under the arms and dragged him in his small cabin. Res lay there motionless like a small helpless puppy. He tried to frantically shout to James, but no one answered. Orson quickly left the room and pummeled the training dummies. Suddenly, a loud flash and a sonic boom resounded through the whole warehouse.
Practiced shouts could be heard: “Squad Alpha, has target in sight. Teleportation detection and detention spells ready.” Res could hear the sounds of countless footsteps all around the warehouse. “CITIZEN! We, the elite royal guard, wish you no harm! Lie on the floor and don’t move!” The voice of Orson could be heard. “I surrender and I am unarmed.”
Another white flash appeared in the room and Res groaned silently when he heard a voice he knew too well: “I have you know you little maggot … ” The voice halted and continued, enraged. “COMMANDER! You said this was the maggot of house Coventry! DOES HE LOOK LIKE IT?”
“No, my prince, but maybe he knows something.”
“Alright, you do you. I don’t want something like this happening twice. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, my prince.”
Another flash later, the prince had presumably left the scene. “Damn bro, we are in deep shit.”
Res had never thought he would miss that voice, but he inwardly cried out: “James, you are alive!”
“I won’t be killed that easily. Even though destroying and rebuilding hurts like a motherfucker.”
In the warehouse, the Elite Guard Commander spoke in a mocking tone: “You know what, Orson? That was a good one. I know you are angry at me, but I didn’t think you would send a spy in my midst and find out about the power tracker on the city. All that effort just to embarrass me in front of the prince. Clever, Clever. You can admit it now.”
“You think I would be that dumb?”
“You know, I think I have thought about your allegations and have concluded that … Clara’s life was worthless.”
“You … You …” One practically feel Orson’s intent to attack the Elite Guard Commander.
“I have found out that Clara was a worthless piece of shit. Someone already dipped their sausage in her sauce at a young age if you know what I mean.” Intense Killing Intent radiated out of Orson, but he still held himself back. The Commander sighed dramatically: “Sadly, you are a coward, so I am going to take my leave now. I have better things to do than to watch an unmonitorable man who abandoned the Elite Guard. His family.” Res could hear the sound of tens of people spitting at Orson resounding through the room.
Finally, a bright flash of light could be seen through the cracks in the shack and Orson shouted to Res: “You can come out now.”
With significant effort, Res heaved himself up and walked to the spit-covered Orson. “What did the commander do to you?”
Orson suddenly balled his fist and punched the stout wooden dummy so hard that it shattered into little wooden splinters. “He let someone I cared about die. Boy, I have changed my opinion on you. The enemy of my enemy is my ally. They have primed the only power tracker in the entire city on you that means they want you dead pretty badly. To detect unauthorized power usage in Trianon, they would need to burn aether rich materials continuously. One day of usage costs them five platinum coins and it looks like you have been running from them for a while. Do you still want training?”
“Yes.”
“You will have to promise to fuck the elite guard up real good.”
When Res heard he was even pushed into fighting against the elite palace guard, he felt like he was in a boat that slowly drifted towards a waterfall. So, Res retreated into the black abyss of his mind and thought all the events through. “I just want to live in comfortable peace. Now I have invented a revolutionary alchemy method, angered leading crime bosses, thrown a cream pie into the face of a powerful aether user and now someone wants me to make even more enemies.”
Desperately, Res circulated aether in the calculating part of his head and all his problems transformed into numbers and formulas. Little by little, he calculated outcomes and affects. After he noted all his conclusions, he circulated aether in another part of his brain, which he now knew to be responsible for emotions, and he looked at his problems only through emotions. One by one, Res analyzed his problems with different criteria: social interactions, sight, smell, touch and language. Finally, he stopped circulating aether in his brain and he looked at all his notes he took from different views. He now felt like he was in charge and knew where to go.
With a last mental breath, he exited the dark abyss and looked Orson right in the eyes. “Do I have to do that?”
“Bro, are you serious? You just thought about that answer for such a long time?”
Res inwardly asked James: “Artifacts have spells embedded into them, right?”
“You could say that.”
“Can I embed spells into me?”
“Bro, that has been tried many times. Anything organic can’t function as an artifact. Believe me. There were even people who tried to inject quicksilver into their system. You can already see where this is going. The only way it can work is by putting metal objects into your body. Now you know why blacksmiths are in high demand.”
Orson chuckled in response to Res’s previous question and answered: “You just stood there and circulated aether in your brain for half an hour. You sure as hell think things through. I like it. No, I won’t train you if you don’t harm the elite guard.”
“I promise that I will hurt them when I can.”
Orson sighed dramatically and opened his previously crossed burly arms in defeat: “I guess that is the most I will get out of you. Now, let’s get you pumped up.”