Lone Cultivator In Another World

"This is much better than the one before."

"Yes. There's even a TV. Mrs. Novikova doesn't have much use for it, but hopefully she will soon."

"Have you tried any new medication?"

"We've gone with anti-inflammatory and anti-scarring drugs. There are yet to be definitive results."

Michael let Anna get ahead and stayed back to chat with the doctor. This wasn't Russia and Glory didn't offer assurances this time. It meant he had to be careful and make it seem like the woman made a fabulous but believable recovery.

The cultivator was confident in healing her lungs. It was the head trauma he was struggling with.

After a bump in accommodations and a separate donation, the hospital rolled out an experimental treatment. A lung transplant was still improbable, which played into Michael's hands. Why take a life-saving organ from someone else when Natalia Novikova had a friendly neighborhood cultivator around?

Anna was brushing her mom's hair and speaking to her in Russian. The doctor let Michael in and left the two alone. Even after years of losing patients, seeing a youthful girl hope with such intensity was difficult for him.

"Do you believe in God?"

"I guess. I don't know any other way," the girl answered after she finished. "My grandpa didn't. He got angry at mom whenever she placed her hands over her c.h.e.s.t. But she began every family meal with a prayer, rain or shine. He got used to it."

"I don't think you ever told me about your grandfather before," Michael probed.

"He was a Soviet biologist. Very grounded in his beliefs or lack of them." A smile tugged at Anna's lips, "A very serious person. He was against me playing with dolls, can you imagine? Instead, we spent hours looking at biology encyclopedias. At pictures."

"How old were you?"

"Six, I think. That's when it began. Plants, animals. Collecting mushrooms and pretty leaves, drying them at home. Drawing frogs at a swamp near our small summer house. Keeping bugs in jars."

"Seems like you take after your grandfather."

Anna nodded. Sitting next to her mother, they looked like sisters. Michael glanced at the woman with appreciation. He remembered Anna in her thirties, and she was a copy of Natalia. Like they say, look at the mother before marrying the daughter.

"So, what about your dad?"

Her smile faded, "He died in the Chechen war. Was ranked captain."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard, losing a parent."

"Don't be. Instead, be happy your father's health is better now. He is a very nice person."

"You lived with your mom, then?"

The girl looked away and pursed her lips. Michael got the idea she wasn't keen on talking about it. He called on to the ball of light in his head.

"Come on, let's pray together. I'm not a big believer but I know miracles happen sometimes."

It was unethical and wrong to make Natalia's recovery seem like a miracle of faith. Perhaps even insulting to the Novikovs and their religion. Alas, it was the only way Michael could put his hands on the woman's body and concentrate without arousing suspicion.

Anna took his hand in hers and closed her eyes. The girl began a monotonous chant in a hushed voice.

Meanwhile, Michael sent the small bright sun of energy into the woman's lungs. He coated their inside and outside surface in light. With over 15,000 glory points, his intention was to finish the job in one go.

There was no use for saving up anymore. When he checked LZD1 recently in the shop, Glory crushed his hopes. Apparently, with a 40 times' increase in severity, the price for healing it went up accordingly. 800,000 glory points. That was far more than the cultivator could call on.

Glory still had 89,000 in the bank but issued no quests. It was a drop in a bucket anyway.

The woman's lungs lit up inside her body. Using Flawed Healing technique, Michael once again did the impossible. Natalia's pulmonary fibrosis was completely cured.

Then, he sent the remaining energy to her brain, trying to jumpstart it. However, the region where the dented skull pressed onto it, refused to activate.

The machines surrounding the woman went off. Eight seconds later, two nurses burst into the room, dragged the screaming Anna away from her mother and prepared some medicine to inject. The doctor arrived half a minute later and took control of the situation.

In the corner of the room, Michael hugged Anna's stomach from behind to hold her back, but the girl calmed down quickly. She lightly smacked his hands asking to let her go and, as soon as she was free, whirled around to look him in the eye.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"You're asking me?" he gave her an incredulous look.

"I believe you."

"Haa… I can't…" He knew better than anyone that Natalia's head wound was nasty. Put on the spot, how could he make it seem like a simple opinion? "Let's give her some time."

He couldn't wake the woman up. If the doctors failed as well, the best-case scenario was for Michael to cultivate more and gain enough control over glory points to fix the dent in Natalia's skull. Then, her chances of waking up would skyrocket.

Anna nodded and turned to look at her mother. If Michael suggested she waited, that's what she would do.

Anna wasn't a gifted young woman for nothing. She was the first to realize how many mysterious things happened around her friend. Receiving strange injuries, surviving on the brink of death, his father's cancer going into remission. She couldn't explain the tiny seed of hope emerging in her heart when Michael asked to see her mother.

She looked down at her still tingling fingers. When they held hands, amidst her praying, a charge of strange power jumped from Michael's fingers onto hers. She opened her eyes in shock, to see his other hand light up in yellow-red color of sunrise. A spark of energy danced on her mother's c.h.e.s.t, then flew into her head and triggered the medical equipment in the room.

What was he, a wizard? A psychic? Anna had felt warmth and kindness from the energy, so Michael was trying to help her mother. And he needed time. Maybe he wasn't strong enough yet, or the healing process was gradual. That was fine.

Her anxiety vanished like it never existed.

If she had to describe her friend with one word, it would be persistent. She saw him in pain, desperate, scared, but never – given up.

He could be her mother's best fighting chance. She just had to believe in him.

"What happened?" Michael asked the doctor, unaware of his mishap. His control over the glory points was too poor. This time, he operated thousands of them, not tens like back in Russia. Michael didn't even know himself there were visual effects accompanying his treatment.

"Mrs. Novikova's brain activated for a short time but couldn't sustain itself. We'll monitor her closer to find out what happened."

"We were praying."

The doctor frowned, "Miss, as a doctor…"

"I understand. I'm just saying, you might not find anything, if it was a miracle." When protecting her best friend's secret, the Russian girl's voice had a hint of steel in it. She had to keep him safe, give him another chance to try later.

Anna even forgot to blush.

"I see," the doctor gave in with unwillingness. "I recommend you let us run some tests. Please, don't come into contact with Mrs. Novikova again for a few hours."

"Sure. Whatever you think is right."

Michael and Anna left the hospital. They walked for a few blocks. Every time they came across a bus stop, they chose to walk to the next one.

"I'm sorry your mom didn't wake up."

"Mm," Anna straightened and puffed out her c.h.e.s.t, "She'll wake up soon, I know it. Maybe in a few months?"

"Eh, I hope so."

The girl stifled a smile. She'd wait as long as it takes.

"Teacher told me you're promising a ten million dollar research grant to anyone who comes up with a medicine?"

"Right," Michael breathed calmer at the change of topic, "Usually, the money is given to whoever comes up with the best research proposal. But this time, I need results. If they have the equipment, conducting experiments isn't that costly. And ten million is good money."

"Even teacher took you up on that. I heard him making phone calls like he was organizing a demonstration. He must have gone through a whole phonebook."

"Hmm?"

"He takes it seriously. After developing that formula, who would allow others to steal the limelight?"

Zhao's enthusiasm infected many of his old colleagues. A week later, twenty Chinese scientists applied for a temporary stay at EIS for research purposes. When Graves heard they would work on an anti-tumor drug, he expedited the confirmation process. With their help, Zhao became one of the favorites to win.

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