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Book I: Dollar Store Power

Rick reached into his soul and brought forth the power within, in the hopes of convincing someone to beat the snot out of him.

There weren't too many likely customers at this time of day, since most had already gone home, but he hoped to catch someone else working late. Maybe some other poor schmuck who couldn't afford to go home at 5:00 PM would be interested in learning the mystic arts and getting a promotion.

The House of the Cosmic Fist sat in the middle of a run-down strip mall, stuck in between a ratty nail salon and a half-decent pizza place. It was far from the best lucrima training school, even just considering the cheap commercialized ones, but it was a job. Given the way his life had been going, Rick would take whatever he could get.

While Rick gathered his power into a blue aura around him, he glanced out over the parking lot for likely candidates. A few teenagers ambled past and briefly looked at him, impressed at his feeble aura only because they hadn't really begun to gather lucrim themselves. Only about five years younger than him, but they looked like kids - not a good choice. Likewise the woman going into the salon, the trucker smoking on the other side of the parking lot, or the man in the business suit flying past. Not likely customers.

Then he spotted her: a woman in her thirties pushing a stroller. Parents often needed more lucrim, and judging from her business casual attire, she had picked her kid up from daycare after work. Though she'd be haggard from her job, she was here at the mall instead of just going home to watch TV. Maybe she'd be receptive to his sales pitch.

"Awaken your inner strength today, at the House of the Cosmic Fist!" The cheesy line made Rick feel like an idiot, but he did whatever worked. "Whether you want to increase your lucrim generation rate or solidify your lucrima core, you can't beat our prices! And we're open sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, so we can fit in a training session whenever it fits your lifestyle!"

Though the woman looked a bit irritated by the sales pitch, she didn't ignore him or leave. Good enough. Rick turned off the cheese and gave her a normal smile.

"I can see that you're busy, ma'am, so just tell me if you're not interested. But I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't think we could help you."

"This isn't one of those shady schools, is it?" She stopped her stroller nearby and looked through the windows to the cheap mats and equipment inside. "You're not going to be recommending ether injections or special contracts?"

"Absolutely not, ma'am. We're certified by the Branton Chamber of Commerce." He tapped the sticker in the corner of the window, but didn't want the woman to be thinking about that. The House of the Cosmic Fist might be certified, but its owner wasn't exactly a model citizen. To distract from that, he bent down to the stroller and stuck out a finger for the baby to grab. "Wow, he's a strong little guy!"

The woman softened a bit as her son shook Rick's finger and gurgled happily. They made basic small talk for a bit, Rick saying all the usual things about her baby looking healthy and having a strong aura spark already. Polite nonsense. Since she freely offered up her name, which he dutifully memorized, she might be interested. But before too long, the woman folded her arms and regarded the door skeptically.

"I've never been to one of these gyms before. The idea of giving up lucrim in the hope of gaining more... I'd rather just train at home."

"And there's nothing wrong with that." Rick gave his best smile. "But the fact is, no matter how strong you are, there are limits to how much you can develop on your own. Even if you don't need instruction - though we have great instructors here - you'll improve your generation rate much faster sparring with a real partner."

"Hmm. How much do you charge for a month of membership?"

"We have a variety of different plans, and we're actually running a discount right now. Just 75 lucrim or $250 for your first month if you sign up for our most popular package. But I think for a driven mother like you, it can easily pay for itself in just a few months. Imagine if your ether score gets improved and that leads to a promotion at work. You're sitting at a generation rate of... maybe 35,000 lucrim?"

"It's rude to ask such things!" But from the way the woman looked away, Rick could tell that she was flattered.

In fact, he estimated her lucrim generation rate to be roughly 27,000 lucrim. Having worked in this job since he was in high school, he thought he was pretty good at analyzing even suppressed lucrima, at least for the lower ranks. It was usually a safe bet to flatter potential customers by overestimating their strength, though he held back on buttering her up since she seemed especially skeptical.

Eventually he got her inside and signing a contract. Rick kept his smile on his face the entire time, even when she ended up scheduling her lessons with Danny instead of him. He still got credit for bringing in a new customer, which had been the entire point.

Once she was gone, Jimmy sat back and grunted. Rick's boss was a middle-aged man, holding back his receding hairline with lucrim but unable to hide the fact that his warrior's body was getting flabbier. Not that it really mattered, given his lucrim generation rate was far above average. The older man scratched his stomach and scrabbled in the compartments beneath the counter.

"Suppose you'll be wanting your bonus right away?"

"If possible, sir." Rick stayed right next to the counter and stared at him to make sure he wouldn't "forget" this time. Eventually Jimmy straightened up and slapped some worn bills and a grimy marble down on the counter.

"You're not bad at bringing them in, Rick, I'll give you that." Jimmy stared at him a bit, then shook his head. "But you need to keep better clients. No more pissing off the whales."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir." But Rick was barely listening, instead focused on picking up his bonus.

He jammed the bills into one pocket, not bothering to count them. Though he needed money to support himself and his sister, no amount of money he'd likely see would make up for his low ether score. For that he needed lucrim, which is why he focused on the marble. It was an ugly little sphere, but it contained a small amount of raw lucrim.

Rick gripped the marble in his palm and breathed in, drawing the power into himself. He always imagined it as electrified water, pooling above his head and then trickling down over the systems of power he'd built within his body. They might not be as powerful or complex as those of most warriors, or even a career worker like the new client, but they were thirsty for power.

Since there were no new customers, Rick headed away from the entrance. He pulled out his cell phone and rubbed his finger over the built-in sensor, letting it analyze his aura. In the old days, warriors had given themselves mystical titles or measured their progress by colored belts, but the process had long ago been scientifically quantified.

Already familiar with him, the app quickly produced the result he'd hoped for:

Name: Rick Hunter Ether Tier: 19th Ether Score: 189 Lucrim Generation: 15,000 Current Lucrim: 1037

He winced at the total - his bonus had been 50 lucrim, so before it, he would have been below 1000. If he was rich, of course, his current numbers would have been near his generation rate. But given his life, that might as well be a dream.

Though he hadn't expected his ether score to change, since the ratings agencies reacted slowly, he was disappointed that his generation rate hadn't received a boost at all. The fact that the app displayed a round number suggested that it thought all of his efforts to work harder were nothing more than a rounding error.

Taking a deep breath, Rick tried not to feel sorry for himself. What mattered was that he kept moving forward. He wouldn't be working at the House of the Cosmic Fist forever, not if he worked hard enough. It might not be a true combat sect or a high-end job, but it let him train while supporting himself and his sister. That was more than many had.

Before he could spend too much time thinking, the bell on the door rang again. He glanced up and saw that it was Darin, one of their regulars. Actually, one of Henry's regulars, but Henry hadn't shown up when his shift was supposed to start.

It looked like Darin was realizing that as well. Though he was middle-aged, Darin didn't look it, with a tall and muscular body. As far as Rick knew his generation rate was around 55,000 lucrim, but he had been pooling it for years. Rick wasn't as good with judging lucrim portfolios, but he knew Darin had a lot. Potentially one of the richer men who still came to their little shop.

"Henry isn't here?" Darin looked around and scowled. "I'm paying for private training, so I expect private training."

Jimmy grunted. "He'll be in later. If you don't want to wait, Rick can take care of you."

"He'll have to do, I guess." Darin walked out toward the central mats, peeling off his shirt to reveal hulking muscles. "Get over here and show me what you got, kid."

Not how Rick would have wanted to end the day, but he didn't have a choice. He stepped out to the central mats and nodded politely to Darin. If they had done things traditionally they would have shaken hands, and some schools copied Asian bowing traditions, but the House of the Cosmic Fist didn't focus on ceremony. Besides, there was nothing ceremonial about what was coming.

Darin lunged forward and started with a sweeping haymaker that Rick only managed to duck because he expected it. Being the client, Darin could start however he wanted, but it wasn't exactly a fair move. Rick finished tugging on the thick mitts that would absorb some of the huge lucrim gap between them and raised his hands in defense.

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Essentially his job was to serve as a living training dummy. What he'd said to the woman from earlier hadn't been just a sales pitch: many kinds of lucrim training really did require a living opponent. But as Rick warded off the aggressive punches, feeling numbness spread up his arms, he doubted that this was really about training.

No, a man like Darin wanted to feel strong. After a hard day of work, he went to a place like this to beat the crap out of someone. That explained why his lucrima felt so unsophisticated - his power reserves were huge, but they were just a blunt weapon, unlike the sophisticated portfolios of strength controlled by most true warriors. If Darin had obtained his full potential, Rick wouldn't have had a chance of sparring with him.

As it was, he was still left exhausted by the time they'd been sparring for a while. Darin finally got tired of striking at the mitts and pulled back. He took a swig from his water bottle, then glanced at Rick. "You're no Henry, but you'll do. Got any tips for me?"

"You have an impressive pool of lucrim," Rick said, "but you could do a lot more with it if you invested it into a Lucore or two. I could sugges-"

Pain shot through his jaw, then his back. It was only when Rick was falling to the ground that he realized that Darin had punched him in the face hard enough to send him crashing into the concrete wall of the gym. The raw power of that much lucrim was just overwhelming...

But it wasn't the first time. Before he fell, Rick managed to throw out a foot and catch himself, then straighten back to his feet. He raised the mitts defensively and faced Darin's stare.

"Don't lecture me, you little shit. If you're so smart, what are you doing working as a human practice dummy?"

He didn't want an answer to that question, so Rick said nothing. It was stupid of him to have tried to offer advice at all - he should have known Darin wouldn't want it. Yet Darin was a client and much higher tier, so there was nothing he could do.

When Darin attacked again, it was with new ferocity. Rick managed to hold his ground, but each time he blocked a punch, pain shot up his arm, even through the mitt. Even his defense seemed to antagonize Darin, who struck aggressively until Rick finally staggered backward and fell onto his side.

"That's what's wrong with kids these days. They think they can waste all their time in places like this, blow any lucrim they get. Get up, you bum."

Pushing through the ache in his bones, Rick pulled himself upright and prepared for the next attack. He tried to tell himself that it was good training, and it certainly wasn't the first time he'd endured a beating from a customer. But as much work as he'd put into the defensive Lucore within him, it was barely worth 5000 lucrim - nowhere near enough to endure such an assault.

The next time he fell back, he dropped, barely catching himself on the mat. Darin stomped closer but didn't attack, instead taunting him while he struggled back to his feet. "This is no fairy tale, kid. You're not going to just absorb lucrim out of the air, not anymore. If you want to become strong, you have to make something of yourself."

Hatred surged through Rick, driving him back to his feet. Darin had no right to say that when he knew nothing about Rick's life. Nothing about his sister, or their absent parents, or all the other factors that left him struggling just to make ends meet. How was he supposed to develop a large lucrima when the power was constantly bled from him?

When Darin began to punch again, Rick almost struck back. He might be completely overwhelmed when it came to power, but his opponent only had combat experience against weaker sparring partners. If Rick stepped aside from the next punch, used his opponent's momentum against him, struck the throat and then the eyes...

Across the room, his boss cleared his throat. Rick came back to himself, remembering why he was doing all this. His ego was irrelevant - he needed this job.

So all he did was endure the pummeling and try to ignore the lectures about how he should pull himself up by his own magical flying sword. Nothing Darin said really mattered, in the end. Since Rick failed to respond, eventually the older man got tired of berating him. After finishing his sparring session, Darin headed out, grumbling under his breath.

As soon as he was gone, Rick collapsed onto the bench beside the wall. He just lay there, not even removing the mitts - his fingers hurt too much for that. Jimmy looked up from the counter and seemed like he might be about to say something, but at that moment the bell rang again.

"What's up, Cosmic Fist?" Not a customer this time, but Henry. His coworker looked much too smug for someone coming in 45 minutes late. "How's it hanging?"

"You're late." Jimmy didn't even look up, just grunted in Rick's direction. "He covered for ya. I'll take that one out of your pay."

"That's fine, that's fine. Thanks for covering it, Rick." Henry at least had the decency to shoot him an apologetic smile, but he seemed excited despite their boss's disapproval. He pulled a six pack out of the bag he was holding and slapped it down on the table. "Serum is on me today, boys."

The possibility of free serum was enough to get Rick back on his feet. Though the cans in the pack only held a cheap version, and even the best serum didn't truly add to anyone's lucrim, it still helped with recovery from training. He'd discovered that he could do without, but it definitely helped with the aches and pains.

When he took a can, he quickly drank the entire thing and went for another. The power flowed through his aching body, both soothing his pains and stimulating the lucrim flowing within him.

Meanwhile, Henry still had a smug look on his face, and eventually Jimmy got tired enough of it that he glared at him. "Alright, what is it? Not like you to be generous."

"I can afford to be, because of this baby." Henry pulled up his left shirtsleeve, revealing not just muscular biceps but what appeared to be a tattoo of a crimson scarab. Though Henry had a couple other tattoos, this one was nothing of the sort. "I finally got approved for a demonic bond. I'm swimming in lucrim now."

"Huh. Congrats." Jimmy took one of the cans and walked off with it, unimpressed. Henry turned to Rick and grinned.

"Seriously, this thing is amazing."

Rick nodded along, not wanting to ruin Henry's mood. "How'd you get it? I thought your ether score was getting you rejected before. Did yours improve?"

"Nah, man. There's a new demon clan that wants to establish itself in Branton... or something like that, anyway. Point is, they don't just check ether score and reject you. They actually let me plead my case. I guess they liked what they saw, because they gave me one hell of a good bond."

"How much?"

"It maxes out at 5000 lucrim, but the maximum can go higher. But just the basic bond already bumped me up an entire tier. Seriously, man, you've gotta try them before they get all the people they need."

Though Rick nodded in general agreement, he didn't seriously consider it. Truthfully, he didn't know very much about demonic bonds. Plenty of people got them, even some people who didn't care about fighting and just needed more lucrim to make ends meet. Usually they had minimum standards, but they were one of the only ways for someone like him to gain considerable power in a short time.

Since the two already knew each other, Rick's app could bring up immediate data for Henry:

Name: Hendog69 (pseudonym) Ether Tier: 17th Ether Score: 176 Lucrim Generation: 21,000 - Demonic Bond: 5000 Current Lucrim: (private data)

Just one demonic bond had taken Henry from around 16,000 up to 21,000 lucrim. In a matter of hours. It was enough to tempt him to do the same.

But according to Uncle Frank, relying on demonic bonds always turned out badly in the end. Considering that his uncle was the only person in their family to make something of himself, Rick generally took his advice when it came to... well, anything. He was certainly a better role model than Rick's parents.

"You look kind of messed up, man." Henry looked at him seriously. "Was Darin rough on you? I'm guessing you pissed him off somehow and he did his whole speech about kids these days?"

"Yeah." Rick finished off his second can and shamelessly took a third. "My fault for not realizing his type. You must have a rough time with him."

"Nah, you've just gotta know how to work him. But all that rags to riches stuff he says is definitely bullshit." Henry leaned back against the counter, looking out over the empty gym. "Nobody gets that strong on hard work alone. For people like us, pretty much our only chance of getting out of the lower tiers is something big. Getting a great Birthright Core, or getting picked by one of those independent mystics."

"Or getting demonic bonds?"

"Nah, that's just catching up." Henry frowned down at the scarab. "People with better ether scores just get handed bonds worth 10,000 lucrim or more. "

"Still, congrats, man."

"Not gonna lecture me?"

"Hey, it's your life and your lucrima." Rick did his best to shrug and not judge - he had enough to worry about taking care of himself.

"I'm hoping if I do well enough, they might offer me a second or third bond. But I gotta say, the rush of power is great. I'm on a hot streak, so I should donate a bunch to the independent mystics while my luck lasts."

That was definitely throwing his lucrim away, but Rick held his tongue. He didn't need advice from his uncle or anyone else to see that the independent mystics were running scams. Over the years he'd seen plenty of his friends donate thousands of lucrim and get excited over getting a few hundred back, when they would have been better off just focusing on their own development. Getting lucky and having a mystic choose you as a pupil could bring great power, sure, but everyone else was trying exactly the same thing.

Since no new customers came in, they sat and talked about nothing for a while longer. Eventually it was the end of his shift, so Rick got up to head home. Due to the serum, his body actually felt fully recovered from Darin's beating. It was a nice change of pace to head home without any aches and pains.

"Thanks for the serum, man." Rick nodded to his coworker, who just waved it off.

"No problem. Headed back home?"

"Yeah, I'll see if I can't get back before it gets too cold."

"See ya later, then."

But as Rick collected his things, the bell rang again and three young men pushed into the gym. The hair on the back of Rick's neck immediately stood up as their lucrima surged into the room. Henry felt it as well and stood up with his customer smile.

"Evening, gents. Welcome to the House of the Cosmic Fist. We're happy to help if we can, but I don't know if we have any staff here who can keep up with you."

"We're just curious." The man at the head of the group looked around the gym with undisguised disgust. "This is what the Cosmic Fist is, huh? Show us your best."

"Well, since it's late, most of our staff aren't here..."

Though Henry tried to reason with them, Rick had already decided that it was pointless. Even if he hadn't been able to feel their power, he could tell that the three weren't here for training. With clothes as nice as theirs, and one of them wearing an ether watch, they were coming to the slummier part of town to cause trouble and blow off steam.

Unless he missed his guess, all three were Birthrighters. They'd had expensive training from a young age, of course, but that paled in comparison to the Birthright Cores burning within them. Incredible amounts of power, just handed to them by their parents. Lucrima training was probably just a hobby to them, a way to round out their resumes, or something to do before they took over their parents' companies.

Not that it mattered. Each of the young men had a generation rate of at least 100,000, and they planned to use it. Rick set down his things and sighed, realizing that he wasn't going home uninjured after all.

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