Damovotsk, Molkovia, Earth.
Demian's P.O.V.
As the two were walking toward the entrance, Adeliya reminded him. “Demian, you've got to be careful about what you say in there. The people from that side tend to be a tad unpredictable...” Nodding his head, he replied with a smile on his face. “Don't worry, Aunty. I'll let you speak. I'll just act like your bodyguard.” Returning a smile, she declared. “Let's do that, then.” Following her words, they arrived at the door before pushing it open, unveiling the scene beyond. Leaving the city's clamor outside its walls, the bar was filled with soft conversations, along with some jazz music playing quietly in the background.
Despite the door briefly opening, no external sound pervaded the building, and even the discussions happening around seemed indistinct, even if the young man focused on them. The interior design was similar to its external appearance, with a Victorian look all around, the counter being on the left side, with many private booths located on the right, a fair distance away. What was slightly perplexing to the young man was the fact that their occupants' shapes seemed somewhat indistinct in the subdued light illuminating the establishment. However, he put that peculiarity on the low lighting without thinking too much about it. Especially since knowing the reason would only satiate his curiosity, but give him no true advantage.
Shoving that thought to the side, he focused his gaze on the last feature of the establishment, which was a discreet staircase at the room's back. It seemed to lead upstairs, but, similarly to the previous booths, no details were visible from his location, even with his great eyesight. Despite the apparent peaceful atmosphere, the strangeness of the place raised Demian's vigilance instead of eliminating it. Knowing that his current strength was insignificant against many people out there, Demian was aware that anything unknown could become a threat, and needed to be guarded against. At least, to the best of his capabilities. As for the things he could do nothing against? He would just push it out of his mind. That was the wisest thing to do.
While the young man was briefly lost in his thoughts, an unknown male voice resounded from behind the counter, startling him awake. “Good evening and welcome, Miss Mikhailov and Mr. Mikhailov, to my humble establishment. May I interest you in some refreshments before we move on to the reason behind your visit?” Moving his gaze toward the source of the greeting, he spotted a man standing behind the previously empty counter. The 'bartender' blended perfectly with the bar's style, with his light-brown three-piece suit in tweed, his thin mustache, and, his slick black hair. The 'friendly' smile he wore completed the picture perfectly giving him an image of a harmless handsome man who would be incapable of harming a fly.
Nonetheless, the fact that a strange man seemingly appeared from nowhere, only a few meters away and without his knowledge screamed danger to him, prompting him to unconsciously tense up, ready to fall into the basic fighting stance that his cousin drilled into both his mind and body over the last few weeks. His reaction, however, had apparently been caught by the man whose grin expanded slightly. “No need for caution, young lad. In any case, you'd be utterly incapable of fending any of my attacks if I had nefarious intentions. So, why the worry?” As soon as his words reached his ears, his vision blurred for a brief moment before he found himself sitting in one of those mysterious booths from earlier with his Aunt beside him and the strange man in front, sporting a playful smile on his face.
The latter's gaze was fastened on his body before his previously playful expression turned thoughtful. Both Demian and Adeliya stayed still and silent, not wanting to anger the man who could seemingly magically teleport them instantly, even if the said man claimed to mean no harm toward them. The tense silence continued for what felt like forever to the young man before the bartender's eyes regained focus and moved to his face while the 'friendly' smile he first welcomed them with returned. “Demian Mikhailov, 18 years old. Son of Roman Yanovich and Izabella Mikhailov. You've been raised by your biological Aunt, Adeliya Mikhailov, present here, along with her two daughters, Bynhild Mikhailov, and Seraphine Mikhailov, the latter having a romantic relationship with you, Mr. Mikhailov.”
Any of those pieces of information could be found easily with some slight research, except the last one, which made his eyes narrow slightly as his previous caution turned into cold anger from the invasion of his privacy. He then asked with frost lacing his voice. “How do you know about me and my cousin?” Shaking his head from Demian's question, the dark-haired man had the same grin on his face as he answered. “Information is my trade, or more precisely, my family's. Do not doubt my capabilities in that regard, young lad.” After his words left his lips, a crushing pressure came on his body for a brief moment, making him feel as if he was seconds away from being obliterated.
Fortunately, the overwhelming weight left him as quickly as it came, prompting his body to gasp for air while perspiration ran alongside his entire frame. His mind in a slight daze, he did not pay attention to Adeliya who urged him to tell her what happened, while a terrified look marred her face. 'What kind of monster is this guy?' He thought for a brief moment before focusing back on his Aunt. “Don't worry, Aunty. It's nothing.” His gaze told her everything she needed to know, evidenced by how quickly she stopped speaking. Although he was sure she would question him thoroughly as soon as they left the place, at least now, the two could focus on the problem at hand. Turning his gaze back toward the silently smiling 'bartender', he asked the most crucial question, this time respectfully, to avoid a repeat of the previous event. “What do you want, sir?”
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The grin on the other man's face grew a bit at his question. “A teachable lad, I see. Perfect! Only with a flexible mind and overall respectful attitude will you be capable of surviving or even thriving in this mad world. Many tend to forget that fact and end up in pain, misery, or even death. Let it be a free lesson for you.” Shaking his head slightly, the man sported a reminiscing look on his face for a brief moment before his gaze focused back on the two Aunt and Nephew. Clapping his hand once, the man declared in a friendly tone. “Please, enjoy those drinks in front of you while we share a talk. It's on the house.” Puzzled for a second at his words, he suddenly spotted the two glasses of what looked to be red wine in front of them where there was nothing a second ago. 'Since he was able to teleport us, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.' He thought as the other man resumed his talk.
Seemingly aware of the two's concerns, the bartender waved his hand lightly to dismiss those before specifying. “Those drinks are highly beneficial for the two of you. Merely some greeting gifts for a peculiar young man full of potential.” His words seemed to assuage Demian's worries as the latter understood that the man did not need to trick them with his apparent strength. Letting out a helpless sigh, he asked another question before sipping the wine in the glasses in front of him. “What do you mean, Sir...?” Chuckling lightly at his question, the man claimed. “Let me introduce myself, then. My name is Sergei Von Anrepov, from the Anrepov family.” His gaze moved toward his Aunt before stating, amused. “I see that Miss Mikhailov has heard of my family.”
Turning toward Adeliya, Demian noticed the stunned look painted on her face. To the mustache-wearing man, she automatically replied. “One of the few Molkovian Great Families...?” Nodding his head, the man responded. “Precisely! Although, what most commoners are aware of are lies we created.” While listening to the man's explanation, a frown started to appear on the young man's face due to some worries. Anticipating his question, Sergei exclaimed. “You are concerned about the reason why I'm willing to share all that information, are you not?” Nodding his head, the young man however stayed silent.
Waving his hand again, the older man answered his own question, while holding out two fingers. “Two reasons. One, once you attain a specific level of power, those pieces of information lose their... 'secret' nature, becoming what one may consider as public knowledge.” Halting his words for a brief moment, he threw an interested gaze in Demian's direction before claiming. “The second reason is you, Mr. Mikhailov. Or more precisely your potential.” Feeling horrified for a second at the idea of someone else discovering his Perks, Demian however tried to hide it by relaxing his body and breathing. Unfortunately, it was not enough as the older man commented with a nod of his head. “From your emotional fluctuations, you seem to possess some... 'inklings', shall we say, about said potential.”
With a disbelieving look on his face, the man continued. “Reaching High Body Strengthening at your current age without practicing the Basic Technique clearly displays your incredible potential. One may wonder what would occur if you were to acquire said technique...” Shaking his head lightly, he added. “From the information I have access to, you've only started practicing this summer. Is it correct?” The more the other man spoke, the more Demian felt the situation slip out of his control, creating a feeling of helplessness inside him. Only after a few seconds did he somewhat calm down and impassively respond. “Yes.” Nodding his head, Sergei continued. “Interesting... Keep that book and peruse it once you're home. You may share it with the three in your family.”
Following his gesture, the young man saw a thin brown book lying on the table in front of him. When his gaze fell on the title, a feeling of surprise came over him before he swiftly lifted his head to look in the older man's direction. Wearing a knowing smile on his face, the latter explained himself. “The earlier statement stands true. My interest in learning what results you could achieve with the Basic technique is considerable.” From the man's deep knowledge of their situation to his strange generosity, Demian felt utterly confused. 'Is he a good guy or a bad guy?' He thought, speechless. Seeing the young man's reaction, Sergei chuckled slightly before adding. “Consider this gift as both an investment in your future and a test. I AM a businessman, after all. Although, one who cherishes talent when I happen to discover it.”
Cocking his brow in confusion, the young man questioned. “A test?” Nodding his head, the older man had a mysterious smile on his face as he answered. “A test, indeed. One that would deliver the reward only when the answer is found.” Staying silent for a few moments, the young man asked in a much more relaxed mood due to gaining a preliminary understanding of the man. “What will you test me on, then?” Tapping the table gently with his index finger for a few seconds, Sergei then declared. “The test's content, you say... Will you survive against a Peak Chi Gathering opponent? One who possesses multiple Chi gathering cultivators and a great number of fighters at your current Level under his command. I believe Mortals call them... 'Master Rank'?” The disdainful way he named what were essentially unbeatable beings for Demian a few months ago outlined the colossal difference in power between the two men.
Strangely, the previous helplessness turned into motivation. 'I've only been training for a month and a half and I've already reached the... High Body Strengthening Rank? I'm sure it won't take me that long to catch up with that Sergei guy!' He thought, feeling excited inwardly. Shoving that thought to the side, however, he then proceeded to think about what the words uttered by the older man implied. “Are you saying that Petrovich guy has... No. With what you told me, I can guess he should only be a pawn... Is it the one behind him? The one who is a... Did you say Peak Chi Gathering cultivator?” The words were not entirely new to him, as he encountered something similar when reading cultivation novels in the past, both in his previous life and in this one.
Nodding his head with his face still sporting a knowing smile. “Yes, for both. The general information about cultivators is in the book I gifted you earlier while the information about Petrovich and the one behind him is in this one.” Following his gesture, Demian found another book lying on the side of the Basic Technique. This one had nothing written on its cover, making him curious about its content. “As you've paid in full already, you're free to bring the two books with you. I must say, it's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Mikhailov, and Ms. Mikhailov. We shall see each other again if you both survive what's to come. In any case, remember to drink your wine, or I might feel slighted.” Chuckling slightly, the mustache-wearing man bowed his head slightly before disappearing instantly from their sight, leaving the two with confusion painting their faces.
After a few seconds, the two looked at each other before Adeliya stated firmly. “Let's go home.”