Lone Cultivator In Another World

Michael sat on the edge of the roof and dangled his feet. Ah, he finished the vodka so quickly…

His parents were together, healthy as could be. He would destroy Vladimir's tumor again in a few weeks if it grows back and repeat until cancer medication is complete. Nadezhda didn't have to work anymore, so she should be fine. No stress or physical strain was what she needed.

Anna's obstacles on her path to success were all eliminated. Now, the brilliant girl had to prove herself. There was nothing else he could do but cheer for her.

As for Dimitri, Michael hadn't known about his debt. Without it looming over the programmer's head, his future dominance in the field of technology was certain.

Alice… was left in another world. The 14-year-old girl in this one wasn't that person. Not the one he breathed with, not the one he suffered for. Anna, on the other hand, she was real. They could have had a real chance at something if he had felt like his body's age.

"Ding!"

"Glory?"

"…"

"Ah, you loose-tongued devil, you. Glory, you know what I think? This world is great. In my past life, I had no knowledge of my enemies, wasn't strong enough to stand against them. This time, there are no unknown variables. Be it Kamyshov or Leon, I will be prepared."

…

"I'm starting to think you're unhappy with our arrangement, old man."

Kamyshov bent in two, the younger teacher's punch took the air out of him.

"I saw you talking to the Russians. I don't know what dealings you got there, but it stops. Now."

A powerful shove forced Kamyshov against the wall. He hit his head with a thump and shrunk himself, trying to make his body as small as possible to avoid the beating.

"I want to know that your only interest is helping me get what I'm here for. Is that so?"

"Yes!" the Russian professor mewled, blood on his lips, "I won't do anything for them, I promise!"

"Good," his torturer patted him on the head. "What a pity it would be if your son died. Or his mother in Barcelona, Sant Andreu barrio, street…"

"No! No, please. I'll do anything you ask!" tears streaked down the old man's face.

"Good. There's no need to grovel, just do what you're told. I simply want to complete my task and then stay on to teach. I like my job." The younger man slapped his victim once more and left the secluded corner.

Kamyshov slid down the wall, breathing heavily. That one time he overstepped the line and tried to blackmail a truly powerful person in an attempt to regain influence – it all came crashing down.

…

"Did he talk?"

"Yes, sir," reported the guard, "Says Michael beat him up himself, alone. He isn't sure how his ribs got broken through the thick coat."

"Likely an elbow strike. Uncommon in Tai Chi. And these scorch marks," Graves squinted, inspecting the coat.

"Sir? What marks?" the guard was taken aback.

"Never mind. I'll analyze it when I have the time. One thing I know is he's a good kid."

Graves looked at the door, behind which Anna's stepfather was recently questioned.

"Relatives, friends, backing?"

"The Novikovs, mother and daughter. Some drunks in Russia. No backing."

"Get rid of him." This short phrase cut the string of the stepfather's fate.

…

"Sir?" The pudgy man waited for permission. He stole a glance at the stoic bodyguards to his left and right. Even if they appeared tranquil, tearing little old him into pieces was child's play to them.

"Yes, what is it?" The pudgy man's superior, whose portraits hung on every FSB officer's wall, raised his head. He had an averagely charismatic face with rather big ears, nothing special. However, this man held more power than almost anyone in the world.

"Mr. president, you wanted to be briefed on Project Indigo. We have confirmation that Healer has proven himself again."

"Come in." President Myshkin put away the doc.u.ment he was signing and indicated his secretary to leave them alone. The secretary measured out his steps and ceremoniously closed the double doors from outside the room.

The plump FSB officer reported, "Mikhail, or Michael North, visited his friend's mother in the hospital several times. We have now confirmed that after a 'prayer session' the woman's condition drastically improved. Her pulmonary fibrosis, a disease that baffles doctors around the world, is gone, and her brain woke up. However, Michael likely failed to keep her conscious because the woman is still in a coma."

"Prayer session?"

"Our analysts believe it was a ploy from Michael to distract his friend. Anna Novikova, granddaughter of academician Novikov. That is, unless she knows about his gifts."

President Myshkin played with his pen for a minute. That boy was an asset akin to nothing before. Who could predict that Russia's plan to reach out to Europe would backfire so? With Graves in charge of EIS, there was little FSB could do to make contact.

Kidnap his girlfriend? Parents? Myshkin desperately wanted to leave those ruthless KGB methods behind, but the country's position among the world leaders outstripped his aspirations in importance.

"He healed himself, his father and this woman. That's three miracles too many for my liking. Keep surveillance, don't make contact. Prepare a detailed dossier, I want to know what makes him tick. Change his status to confirmed. Then, we look for an opportunity."

"Yes, sir!" the pudgy officer performed a somewhat clumsy military salute that made the president wince. His experience in armed forces made for greater sensitivity to such things.

'Mikhail Severniy. The first confirmed Indigo subject in the world.' The president's lips formed a devious smile, 'Will you lead your motherland to greatness or serve as an example to those who refuse?'

…

A few months later.

Lord Blackwood knocked on his daughter's room. Even through the thick wood he could make out the tunes of a rock song. One. Two. Three.

He turned the handle.

"Hey, pumpkin! Good news!"

A beautiful teenage girl dressed in black pajamas jumped down from her bed. Her c.h.e.s.t, rather large for a 15-year-old, bounced under her clothes.

"Father!" she cried out, "I asked you to knock!"

"I did, sweetheart. The music is too loud."

The girl hurried to turn it down, "Sorry, father."

"Mm. Good news! Your application to EIS has been approved."

The girl's bright smile displayed her pearl white teeth. L.u.s.trous raven hair framed her slender face with high cheekbones. She had big chocolate brown eyes that radiated happiness. Lord Blackwood cheerfully c.a.r.e.s.sed her cheek, which she didn't refuse.

His daughter was a rebellious little thing who styled her room after American movies and listened to genres she called "nu metal" and "alternative rock." Alternative to what, only God knew! But she was still obedient to him in small matters, and it warmed his heart.

"Is it true? I have a chance to enroll?"

"It will be a sure thing if you let me pay for it."

"No way! Either I do it myself or I wait another year." She knew that her father had to cash in some favors to let her study abroad. For nobility, such things were sometimes frowned upon. But her principles were more important than anything, and she had to prove herself at this exam.

Lord Blackwood noticed the familiar face on a YouTube video on his daughter's laptop, "That boy again?"

His daughter nodded, looking away.

"Pumpkin, I'm not sure I like your fascination with him. He's a commoner. Our duty…"

"I know. I don't have any feelings for him, I promise. It's just… When Michael explains, I understand the material better than with any of my old tutors. And when I play his game, I instantly know what the quirky way to pass the level is. Like we think the same way."

Lord Blackwood's face softened as he leaned in to kiss his daughter's head.

"That's all right. I'm sorry our request got approved so late. It's already April, and there's not much time to prepare."

She shook her head no, "I've been preparing! With his videos."

"That's not enough. Starting tomorrow, we'll increase your workload. Invite more tutors."

"Hire someone from abroad then. EIS has an advanced international program. These old farts' credentials don't matter…"

"Alice!"

"Sorry, father."

He exhaled, "I'll think about it."

She nodded, looking at her toes. The man took it as a sign to leave. As soon as the door closed behind him, Alice ran to the speaker and turned the music way up. She sat on the bed with her back to the entrance and pumped her fist in celebration. Her training went unnoticed again!

Her laptop with North Academy long forgotten, Alice put her palms together, facing one another. A minute later, when perspiration showed on her forehead, she moved her hands apart.

Between her palms, a glass-like thin membrane appeared. Alice grinned and knocked it against a wardrobe near the bed. The bump produced a dull sound as the membrane proved to be corporeal. The girl waved her fingers, and the object disappeared.

"I can't wait to find out how much more I can do with this!"

…

On the roof of a school building somewhere in Switzerland, a young man was watching the sun rise.

"Yes, I will be prepared," smiled Michael. "I've already dealt with so much. Time to enjoy life a little."

Book 1 END

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