Maksym Pachesiuk
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Moon Cultivation - Chapter 68: Too Much Essence
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 23:36:01 +0000 UTCAfter Marek’s humiliation, we assistant supervisors regrouped by the vending machine. Dubois was treating us again.
“I was expecting more action,” Kowalski said — disappointed, but smiling. “Apart from the opening slap, nothing really exciting happened.”
“The victims spat on the bully, and he didn’t say a word in return — and you don’t call that exciting?” Lin Jiao shot back.
“More like disgusting,” Sun Hao countered.
“But we were aiming to rack up at least ten penalty points on him,” Omar muttered. “Only got three in the end. So… success or failure?”
“I’d say it’s a success,” Dubois said. “Marek came off looking like a complete coward, and his group’s on the verge of breaking apart. However you spin it — it’s a positive outcome.”
No one replied, but a flicker of satisfaction passed across a few faces.
“So what now?” I asked. The unease still hadn’t left me.
Dubois took a sip from his can.
“We won’t be able to pull the same thing off again,” he said. “The same setup won’t work twice. If we want to deal with the others, we’ll need a new approach.”
“But not today,” Lin Jiao added. “Let the wave roll. They need to feel like they’re not protected. That anyone could be next. Maybe it’ll keep them in check for a while.”
“I doubt it, mate,” Kowalski disagreed. “We’ve got a few days, tops.”
“They’ve already worked together once,” said Lin Jiao. “Let them do it again. Let them form a quick-response group — a shared list, mass message draft, geolocation tag attached. Good enough as a temporary fix.”
“They should include us on it!” Kowalski chimed in with a wink.
Seemed like his fists were still itching, and Lin Jiao clearly hadn’t learned the golden rule: nothing lasts longer than a temporary solution. I got that déjà vu again — the kind that whispers: If it’s held together with duct tape, it’s probably forever.
And that’s where we left it.
Before bed, my guys squeezed every detail out of me in exchange for a promise not to blab. Still, by morning the whole block would be talking about what happened.
Sure enough, morning came. And there I was, drinking marigold tea again. It didn’t feel like punishment anymore. It had become part of the ritual. The trick was to move fast — act with resolve, no emotions. I didn’t even grimace now. Just exhale, take three big gulps, count two seconds, and then breathe in.
The tea was a necessary evil if I wanted to keep up training with Rene. Shield activation came at a cost.
Rene had taken on another newbie, so he was giving me less and less attention. Still, I was making progress with what I had: I danced inside the hologram, keeping it blue for longer and longer. I fired long series of projection strikes, formed the shield, and vented my arms less with each session. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.
Main Event of the Day: My first training session with Adam — without Kate.
He was waiting in the same spot on the sand, with the same bag of balls, and the same serious look on his face.
Adam didn’t say much. He shot more than he spoke. The bolts came fast, often, and were hard to track with the naked eye. So I relied more and more on instinct. Strangely enough, he rarely hit me.
“You adjusting the projections mid-flight to avoid me?” I asked outright.
“Should I stop?” he smiled.
“No, keep at it. I just don’t know if I’m actually improving.”
“You are,” Adam said after another salvo. “Your reactions are on point. But defence isn’t a cure-all. Counterattacks matter more. We're training reflexes. In the end — either you hit, or you get hit.”
Apparently, that wasn’t just shield theory — it was a philosophy. The Dao of the Fist, if you will.
All in all, the first session went smoothly. Lunch was quiet too, but the tension didn’t leave me. My guys, fresh off yesterday’s success, were relaxed — laughing, chatting about nonsense. But I had a pit in my stomach.
Nur wasn’t radiating energy either. Fatigue clung to her face. She ate in silence, occasionally offering a weak smile. Looked like Bulsara had finally taken an interest in her — she hadn’t been out of the med block all morning.
I thought I might get some rest during her shift in the block. And I was just wasting time — listening to music, flipping through techniques in the library without much purpose.
Then someone knocked on the door.
I opened it.
Two broad-shouldered guys stood outside. I didn’t recognise them at first, but then I remembered their faces from Dubois’ tablet. Kiren and Tan — the ones who liked ‘inspecting’ other people's rooms.
My eyebrows went up, but I instinctively stepped back and shifted into a more solid stance. Not quite a fighting position, but close.
“Easy, man, easy!” said the Asian guy — I figured that was Tan. “We’re not here for that.”
“And we know you’re harder-boiled than the hardest egg,” added Kiren. “The way you dealt with Tarik and his mutts — pure poetry. Count me a fan.”
“May we?” Tan asked, peeking into the room. “Just wanna talk.”
Could this end in a brawl?
Easily.
If I turned them away, I’d definitely lose the hard-boiled reputation. Then again, that might be the smarter move. There wasn’t much room to manoeuvre in here, and in a plain brawl, I might not be able to take both of them.
“I’ve got a feeling you’re up to something stupid,” I said, shaking my head.
The bullies exchanged a glance.
“We need this conversation,” Tan said. “And I guarantee, you’ll walk away satisfied too.”
“You planning to stop causing trouble for me and the other cadets?”
“We’ll compensate you for your troubles,” Tan said, nodding meaningfully.
Wait — what?
Kiren chuckled and gave me a wink.
Was this what I thought it was?
Now I was too curious to turn them away.
I took another step back and gestured for them to come in.
“We’ve got something for you,” Tan said as soon as the door closed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two transparent holders with ampoules, offering them to me.
I took them.
Each pack held five metal ampoules — labelled with the Fist icon, a Black Lotus symbol, and the code M1.
Whoa. That was definitely a bribe. Not a huge one, honestly — just fifty points’ worth. But right now, without any garden shifts, I was only earning four points a day.
I laughed and shook my head.
Apparently, they misread that reaction — because their pockets produced two more full packs and four extra ampoules.
“Twenty-four, man,” Kiren said. “You don’t need more than that.”
They’d clearly checked my stats through the interface. This would be enough to grow my Fist stat to fifty — fast and with no effort.
“Generous,” I said, eyes still locked on them.
“We’ve seen how you operate. Word is you’re the one who came up with the Marek takedown,” Tan said. “You understand how this world works. We’d rather not be on bad terms with you.”
“Friends are always more profitable,” Kiren grinned.
“Oh? Is that how you’re friends with the others too?” I poked.
“No one’s complaining, man,” said Kiren.
“And if someone does complain — or let’s say starts acting like Marek?” Tan added. “Just give us a heads-up.”
"Ha!" A brilliant idea struck me. "That’s acceptable," I said. But agreeing too quickly never looked good. I tossed the ampoules onto the bed, keeping just one in hand. I twirled it between my fingers, making sure they noticed.
"People say words are carried off by the wind…" I said casually.
"The words are what?" Kiren frowned.
"The wind?" Tan repeated. "One word, one wind…" he added vaguely.
I nodded.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"What?" Kiren still didn’t get it.
Tan quickly offered his hand.
I had to shake it. Even added a full, toothy smile.
"Let’s go!" Tan slapped Kiren cheerfully on the back.
"So we’re…?" Kiren asked, confused.
"Yeah, we’re good!" Tan confirmed.
They left without drama — not nearly as flashy as when they’d arrived.
I stared at the essence vial for a while. Then tucked it into the cabinet with the other ampoules I’d "earned" by negotiating my way into the chillest shift schedule. Now I had more than I needed.
I almost wrote in the group chat: They just tried to bribe me. But I stopped. Liang Shi read the chat. And he wouldn’t like that. It could screw everything up.
Instead, I typed:
Sullivan: We need to talk!
But I didn’t send it. I deleted the message.
These bullies were clever. Aggressive, reckless — but clearly successful. And what if I wasn’t the only one they’d made the offer to?
All our assistant supervisors came from well-off families. Bribes shouldn’t bother them… But still, something didn’t sit right.
There was only one person I could really trust. So I messaged Dubois directly — a private note asking him to drop by as soon as he could.
He showed up ten minutes later.
“What happened?”
“Kiren and Tan stopped by,” I said, grabbing one of the ampoules and tossing it to him.
Dubois caught it, but didn’t understand at first.
“A little gift. There were twenty-four of those.”
“Wait— they bribed you?”
“Yeah.”
He looked at the ampoule, then back at me.
“And you took it?”
“Yep.”
That was it — his patience snapped.
“Explain whatever the hell it is I’m clearly not getting!”
“They asked me to ‘give them a heads-up’ if any of their victims came to complain. Or if someone planned to retaliate — like we did with Marek. I can feed them any story I want. We find someone they’ve harassed, tell them that cadet’s ‘about to raise a complaint’, and see how they react. If they take the bait, we catch them in the act.”
Dubois exhaled and eased up.
“I thought you were about to offer me a cut.”
“I can share,” I teased.
“No thanks,” he snapped. “Keep it. They probably stole it off some poor bastard. I don’t want anything to do with that.”
“Is there any way to find out who it actually belonged to?” I asked. I didn’t exactly want to give up the loot, but if there was a rightful owner, it seemed like the right thing to do.
“Of course. But someone would have to file a complaint. That’s how they got caught the first time. A cadet reported stolen tea, and the Hall of Order sent a curator to inspect the lockers. Found it in Kiren’s. Along with a couple of essence ampoules he couldn’t account for. They gave him a warning — said it wasn’t enough to kick him out.”
“Since then, they don’t keep stolen goods in their own lockers. They’re more careful now. Probably make their victims hold it for them. But figuring out who they’re using? That’s impossible. And without direct proof… you know how it goes.”
“Come on — they can’t just steal with zero consequences. How much would they have to grab before the committee finally kicks them out?”
Dubois thought for a moment.
“Stuff like that goes to review. But since it’d be a repeat offence, I’d say… around two hundred points’ worth of goods might do it.”
I fell silent for a moment, then looked up.
“So right now, I’ve got more than half that threshold sitting in my locker?” Suddenly, the essence vials burned in my hands. “You wanna hold onto it for a bit?” I offered Dubois.
“What? No!”
“Come on, man — we’re planning to bring them down. Hard. As in, expelled-from-the-school hard. I just want to be sure this doesn’t turn into evidence against me.”
“Then tell Liang Shi everything!”
“So he can shut us down on the spot? And we can kiss the whole plan goodbye?”
“Ask Kowalski! He’s your number one fan!”
“Doesn’t it tell you something that I messaged only you? I have no idea who else they’ve approached. Sure, the others are great guys — but this little operation? It’s just the two of us. Besides, you’re the one they’re considering for the Hall of Order. I can’t think of a better reference.”
Dubois froze a little at that.
“Yeah, they’re reviewing me as a candidate! And you want me to stash stolen goods?”
“Just for a few days — until we deal with this pair.”
Dubois muttered a curse under his breath and stuck out his hand.
“Fine. Give it here,” he growled.
I hurried to pass him the ampoules.
Comments
Максим Пачесюк
I’ve already written the next chapter, and I’m a bit short on time, so it might show up next week instead. Depends on how my evening goes.
Takehiko0
Can we see more of his cultivation status? Its been too long.. cant even remember how many qi points he has
Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
