Henry and Ping were sitting side by side in a dark corner booth of the Rising Star, whispering conspiratorially. They had a fat stack of loot between them and were cackling like madmen. There were five hundred gold coins, another fifteen hundred gold worth of cultivation regents, and ten small ki stones.
Henry gave Ping all the cultivation regents as part of the extra percentage he was due for getting kicked in the nuts. Then, they split everything else right down the middle. Ping was shocked that Henry was so quick to hand the cultivation regents over and quickly stored them away before he could change his mind.
Henry ordered them some beer and meat and paid with a ki stone, asking for change. The waitress raised her eyebrow at him and left to get their food and drinks. She returned shortly, carrying a tray laden with meats, two steins of beer, and a heavy bag of gold coins. Henry stored the gold away quickly, doing a mental tally. He had seven hundred and fifty gold coins in storage.
“Cheers, man, that was one hell of a show,” Henry said, raising his glass.
“It was quite the spectacle, was it not,” Ping said, clinking his glass with Henry.
They both drained their glasses and belched loudly. Ping dug into his food as Henry dug into his gold. Henry needed to juice up. He went slowly, starting with two gold coins at a time. Henry absorbed the potential energy into his body, controlling how fast it traveled to his core. Henry realized that just like any drug, if he let it hit him all at once, he would overdose, and the gold madness would take over.
Henry's cultivation was strange; it preached gathering as much loot as possible but warned against excess. The process of handling the ki was challenging for Henry. His ki control was shit, and making this thick ki obey him was proving to be quite tricky. After what felt like an eternity, the coins in Henry's hand crumbled to dust. He had gotten just the faintest bit of ki from the coins, but there was no hint of the gold madness. Henry felt like he was making progress.
Henry opened his eyes and was met by Ping, who looked like he wanted to ask him a question. Henry had forgotten that the rat man had been watching him the whole time he had been cultivating.
"That's a very peculiar cultivation technique you got there, Hen Ri," Ping said as he popped a morsel of food into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, Ping said, “You do not gather ki from the world but from some other source.”
"Henry just remained silent. He had to assume that his cultivation method was not standard and didn't want to reveal all his cards.
“The ki I felt you circulate was incredibly potent despite lacking quantity. Everyone here has their secrets so I won't stress you for yours.”
"I Appreciate that, Ping; you seem like a level-headed fella, so why are you here scraping for pocket change?”
"Ping relays his tale to Henry about his past and present woes, about how he was trying to raise funds to get a bakery of his own and was running into money problems. Prejudice and ignorance seemed to be prevalent everywhere, in his past dimension and this one. Ping just wanted to be a baker. Had someone given him a chance early on, he wouldn't have had to turn to a life of banditry. Henry sighs; new world, same shit; people kind of suck sometimes.
“Are you gonna fight here till you get enough money to buy that property?”
"That's the plan, Hen Ri. I know that the sects won't talk to me, nor will the humans, so this is the only feasible way to drum up some capital, "Ping said resignedly.
Something weird was happening inside Henry, a strange desire not like the gold madness. This feeling was different; instead of seeing the potential energy in currency or things, he saw it shimmer off of Ping himself.
With his dreams of baking, this rat man was giving off some crazy energy waves. Henry wanted this potential energy; he needed it, but he also knew instinctively that he could not just absorb it into himself. It needed to be given freely or bartered for.
“Ping, we should all be allowed to attempt our dreams, and I understand your money problems. I do, so let me offer you a deal. I'll lend you 700 hundred gold if you let me try something with one of my techniques.”
"Ping looked at the human in front of him with hooded eyes. Hen Ri never struck him as a loan shark. Ping had found a space with an oven where the sketchy owner didn't know who he did business with. The smarmy guy had told Ping that he would sell it to him, but he had to come up with all the money by the end of the week.
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Ping was desperate. The building had everything he needed to start a bakery and was in a high-traffic area. He mulled it over and realized to himself why not. Besides, if Hen Ri died here, Ping would not have to pay back a single coin. There was a good chance he would, too, so what did Ping have to lose?
“If you are offering, it would be rude of me to refuse,” Ping said softly.
Henry chose seven hundred gold coins because the number just felt right. He tried to draw in Ping's potential energy, but it was still not budging. Henry thought he needed to push for an actual agreement to work.
“Ping, my technique is weird, so I must ask you more officially. Do you, Ping, agree to let me try my technique on you in return for a loan of seven hundred gold coins to be repaid at a minimum of 1 percent each month? Please answer with a yes or a no.”
Henry was terrible at legal talk, and the agreement seemed rife with holes and exploitable loopholes, but he again felt like this deal would be worth it for the potential energy.
“Yes”
"Henry hands over a bag with seven hundred gold coins. Immediately, there is a slight distortion over Ping's body before his potential energy starts to move into Henry's body.
Except for this time, Henry wasn't absorbing potential energy.
Images flashed through his head. Memories of years spent practicing forms and breathing techniques, of trials and tribulations that Ping had to go through, all jammed into Henry's head instantly. Henry felt that he knew how to use the Eight Water Whip Technique. He was no master but knew he could wield it with passable proficiency.
Ping just looked at Henry curiously. Why was the goofy cultivator staring at him blankly like that? It was starting to get creepy until Henry suddenly jerked violently. Ping felt a pressure on his body, and a sudden lightheadedness washed over him. Then, there was a burning sensation on his shoulder.
Instinctively, Ping checked on his shoulder where he felt the burning sensation, and on it was a tattoo of a gold claw.
“What the fuck did you do to me,” Ping said, drawing a dagger that he had hidden.
“Whoa, whoa, buddy,” Henry said with both hands held out placatingly.
"When we settled our agreement, my technique took a copy of your skill and imprinted it into my memories.”
"YOU STOLE MY TECHNIQUE!!”
"ing was on his feet now with eight water tentacles waving menacingly behind him.
“I mean, obviously not,” Henry said, pointing behind Ping at the tentacles moving in the air. “I think I have, at best, a shitty imitation of your abilities.”
"Henry focused on the memories of the copied water tentacles and let a bit of his ki circulate how he remembered Ping doing it. Instead of eight, Henry could only manifest two water tentacles, which waved at Ping. They were smaller but seemed denser for some reason.
“Something in my gut is telling me as long as you make some kind of payment each month that, this will be all my technique can take, but if you default or try to book it, I get everything.”
"Henry knew this to be true deep down; he didn't know how he knew, and that part scared him.
Ping looked at him with fear in his eyes, too. What a frightening technique! Ping looked at this goofy big idiot with new-found trepidation before saying, “ "All I feel fine, and my cultivation base and skills seem normal, so I guess you didn't do anything too weird.”
"He sat back down and started to count his gold as Henry moved his water tentacles around, spearing little pieces of meat and putting them into his mouth.
“These things are kinda nifty, making it easier to control my ki.”
"ing looked at Henry and sighed.
“For someone with such a fearsome technique, you don't know much about cultivation, do you?”
"Henry just shook his head while his mouth was full of food.
“Most martial techniques channel pure ki into a more manageable shape or form. No one uses pure ki for combat; it's usually too unwieldy.”
"Henry nodded as he understood. He did not.
“Ping, you've had a lot of help, and I hope your business venture takes off. But I think it's almost my time to fight again, and I don't want to be seen leaving this booth with you, no offense.”
"None taken. I get it. Never break kayfabe, as you said. How do I pay you? I don't want to go hunting for you,” "ing asked, putting all his things away and throwing on a thick black cloak.
“That tattoo acts like a one-way spatial ring that transfers the money straight to me. Please don't ask me to explain. I don't know how it works; I know it does. .”
Henry looked as incredulous as Ping did. How the hell did he do that and not know how he did it? The plot indeed thickens.
“It is frightening how you can simultaneously be so clueless and strong; it was like a child walking around with a bomb.”
With that, Ping swept out of the booth stealthily like a rat.
Henry had about three minutes before his last fight and absorbed another three gold coins as he walked over to the pit. He felt like a new man with toys and couldn't wait to test them.
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