Gleam Karma Cultivator Isekai

“That was better than our last match,” Pete said. “Your movements are still too predictable, though.”

“I – not now, Pete,” Bella said, looking at the ground. Her fingernails bit into her palms and she clicked her tongue in anger. “Damn it. Fine. I won’t talk with him, but I really need to get some air.”

“Go, then. Remember your future,” Pete said, stepping to the side. His hammer turned back to a staff and he sighed. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Are you okay?” Chance asked Bella as she walked past them. “I’ve got some healing pills. It looks like you got hit really hard.”

Bella stopped for a moment, squinting at him like he was trying to sell her a rug.

“Are you crazy?” Yeo asked. “Those are expensive! Don’t just hand them out. They’re for you to figure out how to use your urumi.”

“Yeah, but did you see that fight? I definitely heard something crack!” Chance snapped. “That’s a serious injury.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” A flicker of emotion passed over Bella’s face before she banished it, her brow creasing in either amusement or disgust – Chance couldn’t tell which. “Keep your pills. I don’t need them.”

She strode off down the street without another word.

“She’ll warm up eventually,” Pete said. “Bella’s a strong willed girl.”

“More like a brat,” Yeo snorted. “Can’t we just get a different teammate?”

“No,” Pete said. “You’ll all have to learn to work with each other.”

“Lovely,” Yeo said. “She’s going to be such a drag.”

Chance just grunted, a yawn forcing its way out of his mouth. He was suddenly feeling very tired. “I’m sure we’ll eventually figure a way out to work together. At least she’s a really good fighter.”

“That’s true,” Yeo said begrudgingly. “I bet I could have done just as good.”

Pete cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not too tired to take you on too, and I can make a little time before I head off.”

Yeo’s eyes lit up and he pulled his kusarigama from his side. “You should have said so earlier, gramps.”

“I’m going to get a little rest,” Chance said before they could start. “I think everything is catching up to me. I’ll catch you around later, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Yeo replied, not taking his eyes off Pete.

Chance stepped into the house as the two started to spar. He headed up the stairs and into his room, flopping into bed as soon as he got it. The weariness hung around him like an anchor now, growing heavier with every passing second.

Within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.

***

Chance was in the alleys again. They stretched out all around him, their unnatural darkness draped overhead warping his vision of the sky. The corpses of several dozen small Soothounds laid around his feet, their bodies wrung out and dry.

Even as dread from the nightmarish landscape crept into his mind, Chance couldn’t stop the thrill of what almost felt like excitement. He wanted to hunt again. To get stronger.

Across the alley from him, a Soothound’s drained corpse in his hands and floating upside-down, was Yamish. His body rotated around his head once more, and the strange man discarded the monster’s corpse.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Chance asked, looking down at himself as his stomach twisted into knots.

“Worry not,” Yamish said. His mouth twisted into a frown, but something was off about it. The lines were wrong. After an instant, Chance realized that his mouth was somehow upside down, and he was trying to smile. “I have only drawn you here temporarily. You will return when we are finished.”

Chance let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I really didn’t want to get stuck here again. Wait. What’s the religion here? Is there even a real god, or is it just cultivators that just got very strong?”

“A question indeed,” Yamish said, licking his lips. One of his eyes flicked to the side and his hand shot out. A tiny whisp of black energy slithered from it and, a moment later, a Soothound’s corpse tumbled across the ground and flew into his grasp.

He brought the monster to his mouth and bit into its neck, greedily sucking the blood that emerged from the wound. The Soothound’s body withered and he pulled away with a sigh, offering it to Chance. “Hungry?”

“No thank you,” Chance said, his stomach flipflopping. If he got his way, he’d never eat one of the things again in his life.

Yamish shrugged, draining the last few drops from the creature before discarding it. “You wonder why I brought you here.”

“I do,” Chance admitted, then hastily added, “not that I don’t appreciate you saving me. Seriously, I do. I –”

Yamish blurred forward, pressing a long finger to Chance’s lips and silencing him. “Hush. Promises spoken thrice are not easily broken.”

Chance swallowed, then nodded. Yamish pulled his hand back and twisted his mouth, putting it back in the proper position.

“So… why am I here?”

“You are bound to the Old City,” Yamish replied. “You partook of its offerings, after all.”

Chance looked down at the corpses at their feet. “You mean the monsters?”

“Yes. You took their strength, and so the Old City must be repaid,” Yamish said. “No gift is given freely.”

“Not even yours?”

Yamish’s lips turned up in a grin. “A quick learner. I am different. My gift to you has already benefited me. Do you understand your cultivation path yet?”

“No,” Chance admitted. “It’s got something to do with luck, right?”

Yamish pressed his lips together. “You do not understand. This is fine. You will.”

“It sounds like you do. Can’t you just tell me?”

“In which way does a child better learn that fire is hot? When his parent tells him it is hot, or when he touches it?”

“The latter, I guess,” Chance said. “But what if the child gets hurt or worse?”

“There are always ways to make more children.”

Chance cleared his throat. “Maybe we’ll avoid that part, then. I’ll try to figure it out on my own. But… what can I give to a bunch of alleys?”

Yamish laughed. It was a dry, raspy noise. “Much. I will teach you the ways. There are three rules in the Old City. The first – everything wishes to take your life. The second – pay for what you take. And the third – when given a gift, you must take it.”

Chance started to nod, then paused. “When you say everything…”

Yamish’s grin grew wider. “Come, Chance. We must pay your debt off to the Old City. Vermin clutter its streets, and you must sweep. I have un-forgotten your weapon.”

A weight settled into Chance’s hands. He glanced down to find that his urumi had appeared in his grip. He swallowed. “I don’t know how to use this yet.”

“A good time to learn.” Yamish started to walk down the alley and Chance hurried after him, stepping between the Soothound bodies littering the ground.

“Could I also get my healing pills, then?”

Yamish’s head twisted around one hundred and eighty degrees to look at him. “A burnt child will remember.”

“Yeah,” Chance muttered. “I suppose he will.”

And I really want to get stronger. Strong people don’t get teleported around and stuck in a bunch of alleyways with a creepy floating guy. They forge their own path, and they can help anyone they want to – starting with themselves.

“Come. We have much to sweep.”

It didn’t surprise Chance much that when Yamish said sweep, he really meant kill. As soon as they walked into the next alley over, the strange man was gone. A growling Soothound greeted Chance, its red eyes burning with hunger.

It leapt at him and Chance dove to the side with a curse, nearly impaling himself on his own weapon. He scrambled to his feet, but the monster was already nearly on him again. Even if he managed to bring his Essence to bear, there wasn’t enough time for it to work.

Something pushed Chance’s hand. He flicked his wrist and the urumi snaked out, punching into the Soothound’s chest. The monster tumbled across the ground, skidding to a stop against Chance’s feet.

“Very good,” Yamish said, releasing Chance’s hand. “The child did not get burnt.”

“Something tells this child that there are more fires to play with,” Chance muttered, flicking his wrist. The urumi ripped itself from the dog’s chest and snapped back into its sword shape.

“Indeed,” Yamish said with a raspy laugh. “Onward.”

Over the next several hours, Chance followed Yamish through the alleys. The strange man disappeared at random intervals, occasionally returning to correct Chance’s form or, on one occasion, redirect his urumi before he mistakenly took his own head off with it.

Despite Yamish’s words about letting him get burnt by his mistakes, the man seemed intent on making sure he didn’t kill himself. Chance wasn’t about to complain about that, and he couldn’t deny that it was effective.

He wouldn’t go as far to say that he was comfortable with the sword whip, but every fight made it feel just a little more natural in his hands. Even so, without Yamish’s help, Chance was fairly certain he would be down a few limbs at this point.

Yamish came to an abrupt stop in an alley, turning to look back at him.

“Is something wrong?” Chance asked.

“The Old City is pleased with your progress. As am I,” Yamish said. “We are done for today.”

Chance felt like he should have been relieved, but instead, he was just confused. “How often will we do this?”

“Whenever it is right.” Yamish shrugged. “I will ensure it does not happen when others can witness it. You must remember to keep this secret.”

“I – okay,” Chance said, swallowing. “Can you say why?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. Thank you for training me.”

Yamish grinned. “There is a saying for this, told to me by another from Earth many years ago. What comes around, goes around.”

“That’s… very philosophical of you.”

“Indeed.”

Something scuffed in the alley behind them. Chance spun, bringing his Urumi to bear, but nothing lunged at them. Instead, the corpse of a Soothound collapsed in front of him, its throat ripped out.

“Ah. The Old City has given you a gift,” Yamish said.

Chance’s face paled. “You don’t mean –”

“This one comes with no obligation,” Yamish said. “Eat. You must not reject a gift.”

“I – won’t eating raw meat get me sick or something?”

“The Old City would not give a poor gift. Eat.”

There wasn’t much room for argument in Yamish’s voice. Chance repressed a groan as he carefully knelt and, squeezing his eyes shut, took a bite of the monster’s flesh. He chewed quickly and swallowed with a shudder, trying to pretend like the awful meat sliding down his throat was anything but what he knew it to be. Heat wrapped around his heart and stretched through his veins as the flesh slid down into his stomach.

“Very good,” Yamish said.

Chance opened his eyes again, but the words died on his lips. He was lying on his bed in the Whiteheart house, staring up at the ceiling.

“Goddamn it,” Chance muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

The rancid taste in his throat was still there. It hadn’t been a dream. He flung himself out of bed and dashed down the stairs to the kitchen, doubling over the sink and drinking water straight from the faucet. He gargled and spit it out, gagging and gasping for air before going back for more.

He repeated the process until the taste was just a bad memory and slumped over the sink with a groan.

Shit, I really hope that doesn’t happen often. I really need to get stronger.