Lone Cultivator In Another World

"Yes?" Vladimir picked up the phone. "Fight? No, wait, could you slow down?"

Michael's father had been studying English for months now, but he still had trouble understanding fast speech.

"Your son has been in an accident. He's in bad condition! Please come to the school infirmary right away!"

Vladimir sighed, shrugging his shoulders. Why couldn't people slow down sometimes?

"Nadya! Can you take this, it's somebody from the school! They're talking too fast!" he called for her in Russian just to prove a point.

"Coming!" She took the phone from him and made a "shoo" gesture, chasing him away. In a minute, her playful smile turned into a mask of concern, and then – horror. "Wait, please, what exactly happened to him!? Will he be all right? Wait!"

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure, they hung up!" she put the phone down. "Misha got in an accident, and they've taken him to the infirmary. They told me… his condition is serious."

Vladimir watched tears form in his wife's eyes but held back, "Don't be in such a rush. Think about it. What exactly could have happened? It's a school, for God's sake!"

"We can't sit here and chat! Misha's life may be in danger!" Nadezhda started getting dressed. When she noticed Vladimir wasn't doing the same, she gave him a scalding look, "Aren't you coming with me!?"

"Eh… You must have noticed something's wrong here! Let's give him a call first."

"His phone got broken as well!" she cried, putting on her shoes.

Talking to Nadezhda when she was dead set on fighting for her family was meaningless. The Severniys didn't have the principal's contact information, so Vladimir couldn't confirm it with Graves directly. In the end, he had to accompany his wife in a show of support.

The poor woman even started sobbing in the elevator, making Vladimir hug her shoulders.

When the couple left their apartment building, a black van with tinted windows drove in front of them with a screech. Two large men in leather jackets jumped out and each shot a tranquilizer dart. Before either of Michael's parents had time to react, the assailants caught their unconscious bodies and threw them into the van.

Guns fired. One of the men cursed under his breath, nursing an arm. They dived into the car, landing on the parents, and closed the sliding door.

That's when several people ran out from inside the apartment building, dressed in military attire and shooting at the van. The car roared and speeded out of the driveway.

One bullet nicked a tire but rebounded helplessly into the ground.

As the van left puffs of acrid smoke behind, the pursuers' faces twisted. One of them c.o.c.ked his head and spoke into a radio, "Connect us to Mr. Graves. We've f.u.c.k.e.d up big this time."

When the principal got the call, his first impulse was to fire the hapless guards. Here he was, building up defenses and thinking from the enemy's viewpoint, and the weakest link in the chain turned out to be people. Amateurs, the ever-present problem of professionals.

"Rosa!" he snarled into the intercom, "Michael's parents have been abducted. I'm going to inspect the scene, you contact him and invite him to come."

"Sir, is it a good idea to…"

"The young man is instrumental to the school's future. I cannot fail him, not like this."

…

Michael was discussing project Striptease with Dimitri when the call from Rosa came. The prim emotionless woman did her best to sound concerned, but Michael didn't need her to. He was distressed enough for two or three people.

"Something came up. I need to go," he said, his face turning black. He turned towards the gate and leaned down as if he was about to sprint.

"Where are you going?"

For Michael, Dimitri vanished from existence. His vision dyed red, he called on to the terrifying power contained in his body. Time to put those glory points to use.

Golden light enveloped his legs below the ankles, and he pushed.

His first step was more like a jump. Michael's body was propelled a solid ten meters forward, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, he continued running with the speed of the fastest cyclist.

"What the… dude!?" Dimitri's curly hair fell on his face from the gust of wind that Michael left behind.

Attentive students could catch the blurring image of a demonic teenager running to the gate at inhuman speed. Those who did, remained shocked for a long while, "People can can do that!?"

When it was time to pass security on his way out, Michael hopped over the gate instead. One of the guards aimed a gun at him, but his captain pushed the weapon down, "Doesn't matter if they leave, remember? Our job is to keep them out, not to keep them in." When he saw the guard's incredulous face, he laughed, "My son is an Alter! Let them run around if they want!"

Three minutes later, Michael was at the entrance to his building. There was a team of forensic experts trying to identify tire tracks and gathering blood from a stain on the ground. Graves was watching them with a grim expression.

"How did this happen!?" Michael grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You're already here… I'm very sorry. We're doing what we can to identify the kidnappers…"

Michael didn't want to listen and instead pressed harder into the principal's shoulder. "Whose fault was it? Show them to me!"

"Stop it!" Graves pushed off the teenager's hand. "You're not yourself."

He felt a baleful aura spread from Michael's body. With his parents in direct danger, there was no stopping his killing intent.

"Your bloodl.u.s.t isn't helping anybody, Michael. You need to calm down," Graves enunciated in a calm tone of voice.

The teenager's pupils twitched as he looked at the bloodstain. "Whose blood is that?"

"One of the kidnappers. My people got a good shot. Well, they're not my people. They work for the Swiss government, part of the extra security for the press-release that stayed behind for a while."

Michael blinked, trying to push down on the killing intent, but to no avail. It got in the way of thinking, so he closed his eyes and ran an old breathing technique that had started him on the path of cultivation.

Graves watched his potential protégé lose his spirit and offered, "I know what you're thinking. We'll interrogate them. Whoever the kidnappers are, they couldn't bribe my men, but these Swiss boys, I can't vouch for them."

Michael breathed in and out. In, with the all-encompassing energy. Out, with minor impurities contained in it. In, feel your lungs expand. Out, they shrink. Forget the sounds around you. Remember your presence, your smell, your weight. Breathe in, hold it, and let it out…

"Sir!" a guard dragged in a little boy, "He says he has a note for you!"

"What's that in your hand, little friend?" Graves got on one knee.

"Big man said, give you to read!" the child was eating a candy bar. Graves winced, realizing one of the kidnappers had given him the candy to pass the note.

On the crumpled piece of paper, neat rows of symbols were written in pencil.

"Bodrov's cypher!" the old spy clenched his fists. It was one he didn't know how to translate. But why would the Russians give him a new cypher at a time like this?

"It's the same one I cracked in their safehouse. They think you did it," Michael spoke up. His killing intent subsided enough for him to act normal. He patted the boy's head, "Thank you. Here's a little money. Give it to your parents, you hear!? Don't spend it on sweets!"

"Thank you, mister! I give to mommy!" the kid opened his mouth in a goofy grin.

"Off with you. Now, the note. It says, 'Dear Mr. Graves. Please tell Michael it's in his best interests to come alone to this address as soon as he can. Otherwise, his parents may not see another day.' Wow, it even sounds like a Bond villain wrote it!"

"Who's Bond? And what's the address, Michael?" Graves frowned at the teenager's sedate tone, as if he decided he'd already lost.

"James Bond, the spy? No? Aren't there any books about him in this… Never mind. I'm sorry, but I won't tell you the address, sir. I have to come alone."

"Don't be foolish! This is obviously a trap! Let me take a few men, and we'll provide support!" the old spy pleaded.

Michael shook his head and took a step back. "My parents come first, not some useless revenge against people I couldn't beat in the first place. I'll surrender. Whatever they do to me, the reason I'm still alive is to make sure my parents live a long life. Even if it's torture, it's not like I'm not used to it."

"What are you talking about?!" Graves reached out to grab the teenager, but Michael flashed away like lightning. Golden fire blazing under his feet, he dashed to the town, leaving Graves with, "If I don't return, give my money to Anna!"