Chapter 28: Eric. Strength.

I rolled out of bed well before the start of the tournament on Saturday. I was not going to be late for the test to get out of this shit part of the sect. Old Eric had never thought he would really get out; he dreamed of it, of course, but deep down, he never would have even attempted to enter the competition. He would have just drunk, fucked, and watched the event like every other poor soul in the exterior sect. Well, old Eric's fate had changed with a wineskin filled with poison, and mine had changed during a thunderstorm.

I got ready, ate a smaller breakfast, and showered before I headed to the arena district. The slip of paper Allen had given me just had the buildings I was to report to written on it. The half-light of dawn bathed the cobbled streets in a hazy new light, hiding the drab reality of the buildings behind the sharp, fresh newness of the rising sun. The streets were silent and bare as I navigated my way to the building where the strength competition was taking place.

The tournament always started with the strength competition, and it was always the least attended of the events. It was also the event that had the most exterior sect members trying their hand at lifting heavy objects to improve their shit lot in life. No one ever knew what the tournament would be. From old Eric's memories, I knew that some years it had been lifting large and larger spherical stones, while other years it had been crates; leg presses and squats had been the choice of heavy lifting in other years. There was no way to tell until I got into the gymnasium as to what I would have to lift.

A line was already forming in the early light, exterior sect members in drab clothing waiting for their turn to enter the building. I walked through the snaking stanchions, taking my place behind a few dozen people. It did not take long for more and more brown clade people to funnel out from the connecting streets to take their place behind me. I only had to wait a few minutes before the line began to move slowly. Everyone had the same clothes, dusky tan and brown, made for work and not training. There was the odd splash of color, a woman with a dingy yellow scarf or a mismatched set of gloves, but the horrid truth of sameness overshadows all attempts at individuality.

"Next." said an outer sect initiate. Compared to the rest of us wearing drab clothing, his robes, made of the finest silk, were a sight to behold. He stood out with his jet-black hair, carefully styled, while the rest of us had messy, mop-like hair. I felt bad for the girls; shampoo and conditioner were not a thing in the exterior sect.

I walked up to the man as another attendant called out the same. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Eric Leveson," I answered. He held a square of green glass in his hands, and I saw him scroll down a list just like someone would use a tablet from back on Earth. He tapped on a name, mine presumably, and it lit up slightly before disappearing.

"Walk to number A-20; further instructions will be given there." I nodded to the man and walked into the gymnasium.

The building was a large, short square that had a single large room. There were four rows inside, each with one hundred machines. Small flags with numbers sat above each of the machines, with an outer sect member standing to the side. I headed to row A and walked down the line to number twenty. The machines were a kind of rowing machine. Sit in the seat and pull a bar up towards your chest. One motion and a decent test of full body strength.

"Eric Leveson?" the second attendant asked as I approached.

"Yes." I kept my answers short. These people gave off no illusion of wanting to talk further than they had to.

"Good. Sit in the seat and complete a single pull of the bar to the full extended potion to complete this stage. We will set the difficulty to level one. Upon completion, you will receive one of these," he held out a cord with a green tag on it, "you will then exit the building and proceed to the back of the line; when you re-enter, we will set the machine to level two. Failure to pull the bar all the way back will result in being cut from the tournament and your spot set. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good, you may begin." The outer sect member was barely paying attention.

I sat on the small bench and braced my feet against the platforms provided. I reached forward and grabbed the bar. I had no idea how hard it was going to be. Should I start cycling my Qi? No, better just give it a try.

I pulled.

I couldn't believe how smoothly the bar glided back to my chest. I pushed with my legs and completed a full extension. A small crystal or glass ball on the top of the machine lit up green. I looked around, kind of surprised. More than a few people struggled, and I saw a few of the crystals on top light up red.

"Very good, Eric, you advance. Take this and wear it around your neck for the rest of the tournament." He handed me the cored with the green tab on it; I quickly placed it around my neck. "Now, please exit through the back and get in line. Failure to compete again will result in your ranking being set for those that are only past level one."

The dismissal was clear in the guy's voice. I quickly got up and followed the few people leaving out the back. I had to circle around the building and wait in a massively long line. This was going to take more than a few minutes. There had to be thousands of people waiting to get into a competition. Many looked like they had no business being there, while others sported massive muscles. There was an even distribution of scrawny nerds and ripped gym bros. The size of the muscles really had no bearing on the competition. I guess a normal person or beginning cultivator might be able to complete the single rowing motion, but they would have no chance of getting any further in the competition.

It took over three hours of waiting in the queue to reach the entrance again. The same outer sect initiate was there with the same green glass in his hand. "Eric Leveson," I said.

He scrolled through the glass, clicking on my name once more. "C-14." That was all he said. I walked down the thread row, this time to the little flag with a C-14 printed on it.

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A female outer sect member attended the machine this time. "Eric Leveson?"

"Yes."

"Do you need me to repeat the rules?"

"No."

"Then you may begin." She said, adjusting the dial on the side to level two.

I sat and grabbed the bar. I pulled and had to engage all my muscles this time. The resistance was significantly higher, but I still did not need to cycle my Qi to get the bar pulled in a full extinction. The crystal at the top lit up green, and the sect woman smiled at me as she handed me another cord with a green tab on it. That one went around my neck, and I left through the back once more, finding my way to the waiting queue outside.

There were far fewer people now, but it still took an hour and a half to reach the entrance to the tournament gym. About half the people in line had green tabs around their necks. And there were more conversations going on. The air of reserved fear that pervaded the exterior sect most of the time was lifting. With so many outer sect members in the area, the threat of violence was minimal, and everyone was on their best behavior.

I went through the same motions, this time walking up to flag D-89. Another girl was administering the test. Another exchange of names, another…

"You cheated me!" bellowed a rather large red-faced man from somewhere near the center of the testing area. "I saw you touch the…"

BOOM…

The man went flying into the far back wall of the gym. The outer sect initiates that he had yelled at causally backhanded the man. The man slid down the wall in a comic depiction of foolish grace. He lay on the floor for a long moment. No one moved in the gym until the sect member said in a clear, loud voice, "Disqualified…"

The word hung in the air for a moment before all activity returned to normal. "Continue." The woman at my testing machine said.

I reached for the bar again and gripped it tight. I pulled and strained all my muscles. I cycled a quick pulse of Qi through my body before the bar moved. The flow of excess Qi through my body made the task effortless as I pulled it into motion and guided it through a full range of motion.

Another pass, another green tag added around my neck, and back out into the queue. The competition had been going on for well over six hours now, and most of the hopefuls that had started the day with the aspiration of leaving the crusty exterior sect had had their hopes dashed upon the brutal reality of the competition. We were now entering the real phase of the competition, those of us who could use Qi somewhat and had a meridian or two open already.

I had to be careful here. I did not want to place in the top ten; I really only wanted to place in the top fifty. One placement in one of the competitions would be enough to secure my entry into the out sect and life substantially better than the one old Eric had been living. Your ranking in each tournament would determine your standing in the outer sect, making it crucial to perform well. Complete just one competition and get ranked fifty and essentially get in by only the skin of your teeth. Well, you could hope for a position no better than the one you were trying to escape. Sure, the room might be bigger and the food slightly better, and you would have more access to sect resources, but none of the illustrious Qatar's would admit you into their ranks, leaving you no better off than before.

A-37, level four this time. The process was much quicker now; I only had to stand for maybe fifteen to thirty minutes before being assigned a machine. I pulled, and this time, the bar barely budged toward me. I cycled up my Qi into a full rotation through my body, and I felt my strength double. It still took effort, but the bar glided smoothly through another full extension, and the crystal lit up green.

Another pass, another green tag, and far less waiting. There were a few competitors that had waited for this point to arrive. The organizers quickly eliminated them. Only one of the latecomers reached the same level as me, but there were still a few hundred people now trying for level five.

B-10, level five. This time, I cycled my Qi at a full three times the normal rate through my body. I would burn 40 points of Qi every three minutes doing this, but the power boost was visceral. My muscles bulged and creased into a powerful, crackling force of nature. The bar glided toward me, and I felt sweat trickle down my forehead for the first time today. The lady at the machine looked impressed as she handed me my fifth green tag. Power flowed through my body as I left, and I felt like I wanted to run and punch and jump into the sky all at the same time. By the time I reached the much-diminished line, the Qi had finally burned itself out of my body.

B-25, level six. There were significantly fewer people now as I reached for the bar of the machine. I spun my Qi at level three once more, burning another 40 points of Qi. The power flowed through me, but the bar resisted, and I strained to get it through a full extinction. But the light lit up green.

The girl attending the machine gave me a nod and, before I could stand, said, "There are less than four hundred competitors now, so you don't have to leave. You will have up to five minutes to rest between tries. Just let me know when you are ready; good luck." Her voice was high, sweet, and had a happy tone I had not heard in quite some time since I arrived on this planet.

"I'm ready," I said.

She set the machine to level seven, and this time, I cycled the Qi through my body at level four. The bar glided through a full extension easily, almost too easily. The light on the top turned green once more, and I just sat and waited a few seconds before saying, "Again."

Level eight this time, and I cycled to level four once more. The bar resisted, but the power of my Qi flowing through me made me feel like a god. Like I could crush stone with a thought, and the world would bend under the force of my muscles. The light turned green.

"Very well-done, Eric Leveson." She said, "Happy at my performance.

"Can you tell me my rank?" I asked.

"Absolutely, let's see…" she said, pausing to scan through the green glass tablet in her hand. "You are in the top 100. Great job. Do you think you've got more in you?"

"Absolutely, again."

Level 10, rank 80. I'm still only using level four of cycling.

"Again."

Level 11, rank 60. This maxed out what I could handle with level four. I needed to go just a bit further in this competition.

"Again," I said after only a few seconds. I didn't need a break.

Level 12, rank 60. With the fifth level of cycling coursing through me, I burned 160 points of Qi in over forty-five seconds. The power was sweat honey flowing through my body, intoxicating and ravaging all at the same time. I could go and go and go forever if I wanted.

The cool-down hit like a truck, my muscles burning from the overuse. I the ranks had not increased.

"Again," my voice was labored now, and sweat made my shirt cling to me.

Level 13, Rank 50. When the bar hit my chest, and the light turned green, the girl told me my rank. I was in, but I wanted to go just a bit further, middle of the pack.

"Again,"

Level 14, rank 45. I could have better adapted to this kind of work if I had trained more, built more muscles, or used them for longer at this level of Qi burn. I was unfortunately saddled with old Eric's fat-laced, giggly, worthless form for now. Sure, they were harder muscles now toned and with a semblance of functional form, but they were weak, like baby muscles, unused, untested. I had a lot of work to do on my body before I could consider it anything close to athletic.

"Again," I said, voice trembling.

Level 15, rank 38. The light turned green, and I was barely able to complete the motion. But that was enough. I had made it to the middle of the road.

"Again,"

Level 16, failed. I only pulled the bar halfway, pretending to give it my all. But I let the bar violently retract from my grip.

"Well done, Eric, very good. Your final place is 38! Congratulations! You made it into the outer sect! Job well done. Now, you can leave those worthless wastes of life behind and join the real world. Good job ridding yourself of your worthless habits!" She was so happy, and it was said in such a nice tone I almost didn't catch the venomous words she used.

"Yeah, thanks. What now?"

"You are free to go or stay and watch the rest of the competition. You do not qualify for a prize, but, oh, I see here you are competing in more tournaments; good, good. Once you complete all the competitions you signed up for, we will provide you with further instructions. You may leave or stay. Goodbye, Eric, and very well done on not being a worthless piece of shit that just wastes space and is barely useful to the sect!" Her excited, happy tone was just so. It was very disconcerting.

I got up and left. I had no desire to see who could lift the most, and there wasn't really a prize ceremony, at least not for the strength tournament. They deemed it to be too common an event for that.

I headed for the bathhouse. I felt tired and knew I needed rest, but I went to the bathhouse first to take a shower. Why they called it a bathhouse when there were no baths was beyond me. It should really be called the shower stall or something; I didn't know. I washed, and in a semi-dressed state, I went back to the tenement housing complex that housed my small ass single room.

The door depressingly closed behind me, and I locked it. I would be out of here soon, this room, and this dead-end part of the sect. I would finally be able to start learning some real information about cultivation. I wanted answers, but most of all, right now, I wanted to sleep.

I cycled my Qi and sent the intent through my body to rest and recover. My Qi happily sent me spiraling down into sleepy-time dreamland.