Zane didn't know if it was possible to shit out your own bone marrow, but he was reasonably sure that his body was trying.

The jump to the fourth tier, combined with his borderline lethal level of corruption, made the cleaning process particularly unpleasant. Worse yet, his new senses made it possible to see the toxins flowing out of his body.

It was disgustingly fascinating, watching the black tar flowing through what Zane figured were probably his meridians. He had heard Kiel talk about them, but wasn't exactly sure what function they served.

So far as he could understand, Meridians were like arteries that Essence could be channeled through. Though Zane didn't know why they were so important. He fueled his abilities by drawing on what had been his lower core.

In the sticky post cleansing haze, Zane wondered if it might be a good idea for him to seek out information on how cultivation actually worked. He had been bullishiting his way through things pretty well thus far, which was his normal mode of operating. But eventually his luck would run out.

As Zane soaked in the tub, he became aware of what was really bothering him. The young man had always considered himself to be a bit of a scoundrel, but not actually a scumbag.

Back on Earth he had never stolen from the elderly, or used violence in any of his cons. But things had changed after he died. Zane had killed people, and now the Mesh was telling him that he had low Purity, which basically meant that he was a bad person.

Zane had slowly come to terms with the fact that he was kind of an asshole, and he was not enjoying the experience. You couldn't argue with a status sheet, or try to talk your way around it. The numbers didn't lie.

Perhaps I can find a way to steal someone else's conscience? the young man wondered, before dismissing the idea entirely. He definitely didn't want one of those, they might try to tell him what to do.

Zane drained the tub and watched as the toxic black sludge flowed away. Morality had never been something he paid much attention to. But now it was directly tied to his survival, and he didn't like it.

The rogue cultivator checked his status and saw that his Purity had improved slightly. The black veins running down his arms, however, had not receded. Zane found himself wondering if they were permanent.

Lady Foxglove had mentioned that he might evolve into something if his corruption continued to progress. Kiel was the logical person to ask, but Zane had trouble trusting the kobold after all that had happened.

Something about the whole situation bothered him. Deep in his subconscious, Zane had started to notice little inconsistencies. Like how Kiel was a fearsome fighter, yet had fallen while fighting off Sin Grasa and his raiding party.

Killing the men had been easy, and it should have been childsplay for Kiel too. But the kobold had apparently died fighting them off, which made no sense. How could someone so strong fall to weaklings like them?

Zane refilled the bath and continued to sulk while he soaked. Soloing the temple was his next logical step. It would make him stronger, which was always a good thing. But what after that?

He had no idea who was trying to destroy the city, or why. What could motivate a person to cause that kind of destruction? And why were the gods involved?

The rogue cultivator decided to work the problem in reverse. If the city was destroyed, what would happen next? A major trade hub would be lost, but there was nothing stopping people from building a new one. And people would die, but they were mostly low level workers, easily replaced.

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Perhaps it's something ritualistic? he pondered, Maybe someone is plotting to sacrifice the city to a dark god in return for power?

That certainly fit with the whole fantasy vibe. Cultists were always trying to bring about the end of the world in video games. He figured that it was just as likely as anything else. But what if the motivation was simpler than that?

Greed was another possibility. After all, his first instinct had been to rob the city blind when he found out that it was going to be destroyed. His thoughts went to the smugglers and their counterfeit cores. Could the two things be related?

The young man shook his head. No, probably not. Smugglers profited from maintaining the status quo. Without a city to sneak contraband into, they were out of a job. Then again, something might have used them to get a weapon into the city.

Zane decided to ask Eric if bombs were a thing here. As a former general, he would probably know all about magical nukes, or whatever fantasy bullshit they had here. At the very least it was something worth investigating. But that could wait until tomorrow.

Right now, Zane was having a nice bath. He was comfortable, and fully willing to let his future self deal with future problems. The big problems could wait another day, they would still be there tomorrow.

***

The Happy Bun Noodle Shop was busier than ever. Now that cultivators had stopped getting in fights and wrecking the place, the atmosphere had become much more relaxed. They were even considering expanding the menu.

Unfortunately, the Mayor was not in a good mood. He listened with rising dread as Eric filled him in on the situation.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said, “Zane told you that he got a warning from a friend. But they couldn't tell him who was planning to do it, or why.”

“That's the long and the short of it,” Eric admitted, “But for what it's worth, I believe him.”

“Ugh.” The Mayor pushed his bowl away. “This whole situation stinks. But I'm not stupid enough to ignore warnings from hidden masters. I'll put my best man on it.”

“Thank you,” the big man said, “I hope that I haven't ruined your appetite.”

“I'll be fine.” Jeffries waved his hand dismissively. “There's always some crisis or another interrupting my dinner. How are you doing?”

Eric paused to think before he spoke. His first instinct was to say that he was fine. But Jeffries was a friend, and he didn't want to lie to him. “I'm still coming to terms with everything that happened. I never thought that I'd get my cultivation back, much less so soon. So, there's a lot for me to think about.”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where to find me.” Jeffries reclaimed his bowl and slurped up a mouthful of steaming hot noodles. “Have you thought about what you might do, now that you're healed?”

“Zane plans to move further up the mountain. I'm thinking about going with him.”

The Mayor winced. “Ah, well… that would certainly be a blow to the community. Some of the lower level citizens rely on his food to fight the effects of the fog.”

“I see,” said Eric, “Surely there are alternatives?”

“None that are cost effective,” replied Jeffries, “Essence helps fight the fog, and most people can't afford sacred herbs.”

The big man took a moment to mull this new information over. “Honestly, I hadn't considered that. I just assumed that the people here were at a high enough level that the fog didn't bother them.”

“Oh, I wish that were the case.” Jeffries shook his head. “People come up from the lowlands every day looking for work. Companies hire them because it's cheaper than paying for higher level contractors. Some make it back home safely with a pouch full of coins, others stay on the mountain.”

The Mayor let out a sigh. “Don't worry too much about it, Eric. It's not your problem, and I don't want to try to guilt trip you into staying.” He winced. “It would be hypocritical of me to keep you from trying to climb the mountain, after I spent so many years doing the same. Just know that you always have a home here in Hero’s Step, if you want it.”

“Thank you,” Eric said, “The offer means a lot to me. You've been nothing but helpful since I came here, even when you had no reason to be.”

“Oh bullshit,” laughed Jeffries, “It's all part of my cunning plan. I'm still a politician, you know. We're great at sounding sincere.”

The big man let out a chuckle of his own. “Perhaps. Or maybe you're a decent person doing a dirty job. Only time will tell.”

“I'll drink to that,” Jeffries raised his glass of Soju, “To dirty jobs!”

Eric mirrored the gesture. “And the good men who do them.”