Maksym Pachesiuk
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Moon Cultivation - Chapter 61: Useless Interview
🕑 Added 2025-05-04 23:36:01 +0000 UTCNur didn’t have to carry me. But without her help, reaching my room would’ve been extremely difficult. My boys—all three of them, even though I’d only messaged Denis—were waiting for me on the stairs. In my current state, I certainly couldn’t fend off any bullies, and although the chances of them trying to get quick revenge were slim, I wasn’t willing to take that risk.
Denis greeted me with a grin.
“You’re starting to pick up quite the habit,” he teased.
“I owe you?” I misunderstood him.
“No, not that. I mean, this is already the second enchanting lady who’s literally dragged you home!”
Nur glanced at me in surprise.
“And who was the first?” she asked.
“Oops…” Denis’s face changed. “That’s not what I meant!” he tried to backpedal.
“His mentor,” Marlon chimed in. “She’s already hauled him home in this state after cultivation.”
“No romance involved!” Denis added quickly.
If Nur and I really were dating, those words would’ve buried me up to my neck. As it was, she simply glanced at him, then at me, then back at him…
“And that’s why you decided to highlight it?” Nur asked.
“Well… I’m just an idiot,” Denis confessed.
“Mhm…” Nur responded, removing my arm from her shoulder. “Take him,” she said to Denis, then turned so the others couldn’t see and winked. “And as for your mentor — we’ll talk about her tomorrow.”
Rakhman walked off with her jaw clenched so tightly her cheekbones stood out sharp, while Denis kept apologising for his loose tongue.
“Oh shut up already,” I told him after the sixth time. “Keep an eye on the showers’ entrance and we’re even.”
After my shower, the guys wanted details—they even made tea and bought snacks — but I flat-out refused and went straight to bed. Still, by morning, even before breakfast, they’d wrung the whole story out of me.
For breakfast, I was unexpectedly treated to fried eggs. Just plain old fried eggs — with the right colour, the right smell, and more importantly, the right taste! After such a gift from fate, I barely paid attention to the other dishes, though we still went through the usual ritual of trading bites.
Then I asked the guys, “What’s the Hall of Order?”
Bao instantly leaned back, as if he’d been waiting for that question.
“The watch. Internal control. Patrols, paperwork, records, violations, reports. Kind of like the police, but within the School. Liang Shi is their overseer.”
“They’re not doing a great job…” Marlon muttered.
“Not always!” Bao noted. “First-year’s supposed to be tough. You know how many get weeded out.” Then he turned to me. “Why are you asking?”
“Liang Shi summoned me and Dubois there at twelve. If it were just me, I’d think I was in trouble. But Dubois? Could he have done something? No one’s heard anything?”
They all shook their heads.
“Just the two of you?” Marlon clarified.
“Sounds like recruitment,” Bao said, with a noticeable hint of envy.
“What do you mean?” I didn’t quite believe him. “We haven’t even made it through the cull process yet. A lot can happen in a year…”
Bao grimaced. He, of all people, knew how much could happen. His chances of passing the cull were, to put it mildly... crap.
He stopped chewing and set his fork down.
“No one in my family’s ever been accepted into Order. I wanted to be the first…” he said, irritated, and for a moment I thought he was about to start blaming me for his failure again. Something was clearly simmering inside him, but he managed to vent it without turning it on me. “It’s bloody twisted, how things turn out! You hadn’t even heard of the Hall, and I’ve been preparing — gathering info. So I know what I’m talking about. This is going to be an interview. Looks like you and Dubois showed exactly the qualities they’re after, and now they’re watching you.”
“Well, with Dubois it’s obvious,” Denis said. “The guy’s a bloody genius. But what’s Jake got to do with it?” he jabbed at me. “He only stands out compared to the likes of us.”
“Seriously?” Bao said. “Even I have to admit—he’s got brains and a sense of justice.”
“I’ve got those too,” Denis chimed in. “But no one’s inviting me to the Hall of Order.”
“Seriously?” Bao echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You hide those qualities really well.”
Denis blinked, then swung playfully to give Bao a cuff on the back of the head.
"What a little shit!"
Bao lazily batted his hand away, and we spent the rest of breakfast in relative silence.
Afterwards, I opened my interface and called Eric Dubois. He picked up quickly.
"Liang Shi. Hall of Order?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Let’s meet at the block in fifteen. We’ll be at the station about ten minutes early. Better early than late."
Dubois seemed a little on edge.
"Alright," I agreed.
He was already waiting when I stepped out into the corridor. Bandolier with his spikes slung over one shoulder, rapier at his waist, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the hilt.
"Is all that really necessary?" I asked.
Dubois shrugged.
"Better to have it than not."
I looked down at my empty hands, then at his gear.
Dubois had already used both his sword and his spikes. I had gloves — but I hadn’t performed any techniques with them yet. My technique was crap! I mean, the technique itself was solid, but my execution… far behind.
"Do they want to see our techniques?"
"No idea," Dubois shrugged again. "I just want to be ready."
"Hold on," I said, and called Liang Shi.
He answered a bit more slowly than Dubois had.
"Don’t tell me you’re already at the station."
"I won’t. Still in the block. Do we need to bring any gear?" I asked.
"What the hell for?"
"I don’t know. I don’t even know why you’re dragging me there. If it’s to test technique, I’m out. I haven’t mastered mine yet."
"You kicked the crap out of that bully yesterday! Knocked out more than half his teeth!"
"With a mace. I knocked his teeth out with a mace! I only scared him with the technique."
"Yeah, yeah… Just come anyway. You don’t need to bring anything."
"Should Dubois leave his sword behind too?"
"What the hell does he need that for? No, he doesn’t need it."
"Got it."
I ended the call and shook my head. Eric quickly ducked back into his room and left his gear behind.
Even so, we still arrived early. Liang Shi appeared exactly one minute before the scheduled time, stepped out of the lift, saw us, and motioned us silently to join him inside.
He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Not a word from him, so Eric stood stiff and silent like a soldier during inspection. I, on the other hand, couldn’t hold it in.
"So… what should we be prepared for?"
The supervisor looked at me.
"Be prepared to tell the truth. Listen and answer the master’s questions. No technique checks, if that’s what’s bothering you so much."
Eric nodded, visibly relieved. As if he had any reason to be nervous. I saw him knock that thug out cold with a spike. Bloody spectacular, I would say.
The ride was a long one. Judging by the time it took, we ended up somewhere on the same level Novak lived on. Though that was a very rough guess — the differences in station depth and the building layouts made orientation tricky. This was clearly an administrative block.
And ‘administrative’ meant full of staff, high-ranking officials, and veteran cultivators. I quietly removed my ring. Should’ve left it in the locker, really.
The corridor we entered was austere and spotless. The lighting was bright but not blinding, and the air carried a faint scent of herbal tea. Suddenly, a door to one of the offices opened just as a cadet was stepping out, and I caught sight of Johansson — this time without his armour or hammer.
Our eyes met for just a second. I felt an instinct to nod at him but held it back. Johansson also looked away, continuing his conversation with someone I couldn’t see. Then the door shut behind the cadet.
We reached another office with large double doors. Liang Shi knocked politely and opened them, revealing a small antechamber with a receptionist’s desk. The woman seated there had only second-rank insignia on her collar, but her uniform was black.
The opposite wall of the antechamber bore an identical set of doors to the ones we’d just entered through. The woman nodded toward them.
"She’s expecting you."
This time, Liang Shi didn’t knock.
The room behind the second set of doors was bright and spacious, decorated with minimalist elegance and boasting a magnificent panoramic view — of course it had one. But unlike Vaclav’s view, which overlooked the school complex from a distance, this one looked out from deep within the very heart of the campus.
The walls were adorned with paintings in an Asian style. Behind a low table sat an elderly Asian woman with perfectly straight posture, as if a steel rod had been welded down her spine. Her hair was completely white, coiled into a tight bun secured with two gleaming metal pins. I’d bet money those things were weapons — at least one of them. Behind her stood a rack holding three narrow, straight swords.
The scent of tea reached my nose, and my eyes found a tea table… Déjà vu. From this life, not a past one. The table was low, Japanese-style, and there were no leather armchairs around it. And the scent — definitely not Pure Thoughts.
The woman’s eyes were sharp and piercing, scanning us as efficiently as Doc’s scanner. Now this was someone who looked the part of a wise shifu — much more so than Novak ever had.
Except Novak was a blank spot in my interface. The granny, on the other hand, registered as L. Mei – Stage Four. Lifespan 203/249. Let’s hope she makes it to the invasion.
Alright, I was too quick to call her a granny. She had the poise of a general — every bit as sharp as Vaclav’s.
Liang Shi gave a short bow.
“Master, cadets Sullivan and Dubois.”
The master nodded and stood.
“Welcome, cadets. My name is Mei Lan. I am the deputy head of the Hall of Order.” Her voice wasn’t that of a general — it was a sergeant’s. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the tea table.
“Sit,” Liang Shi nudged us.
We obeyed, settling down around the table. Liang Shi joined us as well and, at Mei Lan’s silent command, poured each of us a small cup of tea. It was green. The liquid itself had the colour of mouthwash.
The master took the first sip.
We followed suit.
The tea was hot and far too bitter. I really hoped it had some sort of interesting effect, because drinking this for pleasure was pure masochism...
God, I hope this isn’t some kind of truth serum variant. Maybe I should’ve messaged Novak.
“So then,” the master began once we’d taken our first sip. “What exactly do you wish to gain from cultivation? And don’t rush your answer. I don’t want to hear what you think — I want to hear what you feel.”
Eric fell silent, staring into his cup with intense focus.
To hell with it.
"Everything it can give, and everything I can take," I said.
"Excuse me?" the master blinked, surprised.
"It’s simple," I shrugged. "It always comes down to that — personal gain and a place under the sun."
Liang Shi facepalmed. Dubois gawked. The master leaned back, blinking in disbelief.
The supervisor was the first to recover.
"And what about all that talk of justice?"
"Who said justice isn’t in my interest?" Novak’s words echoed in my head — about culture, and protecting the weak. "The right of the strong doesn’t appeal to me. Every one of us will have moments of weakness. And when that moment comes, I want support — not a knife in the back. I want to see genuine smiles around me, and a friendly shoulder close by."
The master smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but then paused, her gaze flicking down to the lower right. Somewhere around there I had my chat window.
She closed her mouth and her eyes quickly scanned invisible lines of text.
Damn it, I really should’ve warned Vaclav.
"Well then," she said, "That’s the most selfish reason for wanting justice I’ve ever heard. And at the same time — probably the most honest one." She shook her head slightly. "It’s definitely worth thinking about... You may go," she said.
That’s it?
There was no talk of the wastelands this time, but the feeling was oddly similar.
"That’s all, I’m not keeping you," the woman confirmed.
I stood. Liang Shi stood with me.
"No need," Mei Lan stopped him. "Karl will escort him."
Karl? Johansson?
Well, at least he should know I’m not someone to be killed.
Comments
Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
