Chương 51: Aftermath 2 (Flower Interlude)

Whatever bustling activity and panic emerged from the murder of the only man immune to the virus in the sect and army leadership did not reach Jin's relatively isolated position in the inner ring. His contribution to whatever would happen with his Illusion Room, and more importantly, the war, was now officially over. And, well, he had other priorities than staying updated on the latest gossip.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Francis asked confusedly as he looked at the severely bruised Jin holding an ice pack to his mangled face. Hashimi, who was sitting down next to Jin, smiled coldly at the question, a hand going underneath the table to pinch at the boy's thigh.

"Yes, yes," Jin quickly assured.

"I just fell down a flight of stairs. Very pesky, those stairs," he said, breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Are you sure?" Francis asked dubiously, with a doubtful look around the apartment he'd been invited to for the most recent strategy meeting. He seemed to think that he would be able to see the stairs in question if he analysed his surroundings enough. Fool, the stairs are a lie! Jin shouted inside his own mind. A metaphor for female-on-male violence in the entertainment industry, where beating up a man is comedic rather than tragic. Run while you can.

"I fell from a very high floor," he said out loud.

"From the 100th floor, in fact." Francis tugged at his silver beard.

"Well, whatever you say. The dao sure is mysterious," he said.

"I was fairly sure the highest building in the sect only had seven floors," he muttered to himself more quietly. Then he coughed into his hand.

"Anyway, what did you call me here for? Have you already decided on your next project?" he asked with a glint of hunger in his eyes. Jin had promised Francis a collaboration on whatever he worked on next due to his help in rightfully, morally, ethically and legally acquiring Lung Junior's intellectual property so he could asset strip it. But, well.

"I just finished a big project," Jin started with a sigh.

"And the martial arts tournament that's been shoved back is rearing its ugly head. Elder Flower insists that I participate, so I likely won't have time for a full thing anytime soon." He was actually quite happy about that. The crunch on The Last of Us had been brutal. He needed a break, even if that break consisted of getting stabbed, punched and burned on an intersect martial tournament.

Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe it would be better to start working on a new project soon rather than dealing with that.

"Ah, I'm sad to hear that. I quite liked how your zombie scenario ended up," Francis said with a sigh.

"At least it was something novel, and I mean that in a good way, not the novelty, or rather travesty, that the weird group of inner disciples created where the zombies were generated through an STD and would sexually assault you if they beat you." Jin paused, tilting his head, wondering if he wanted to engage in that conversation.

"Regardless," he said, deleting the last 10 seconds from his memory.

"I am perfecting three different scenarios for putting them in the library. I was wondering if I could purchase your help with that, with, let's say, 10% of the credit. There's not much that needs to be done, but I'm sure someone experienced like you can notice a slew of possible improvements that can be implemented relatively easily." Francis thoughtfully hummed.

"That sounds like a good deal. Will you also work on this?" he asked, turning to Hashimi, who rigidly nodded. Francis then turned back to Jin.

"I'm not familiar with your other work," he said politely.

"Well, we have one single enemy scenario titled Dragonslayer Ornstein. I made it as my examination piece for entry into the inner ring. I think some people could draw use out of it," Jin said humbly. He'd already improved on that scenario back at the Mad Monks Sect, and with a bit of a final polish, he was sure it could get him at least something from the library.

"I'd ask more about it, but I'm sure experiencing it will be the greatest exposition," Francis said with a wave of his hand.

"Then I have a horror scenario I designed for the entrance examination of the Mad Monks. It's supposed to help them test the mental fortitude of their potential disciples," Jin continued explaining.

"And, well, you know the zombie scenario, obviously, and that's it."

"That's quite prolific, considering you've only been an inner disciple for a year," Francis said kindly.

"Most of the cultivators here take much longer to make one scenario, let alone two."

"Well," Jin said with a puffed up chest.

"You know what they said about cream and-" a pinch on his thigh.

"It's obviously all thanks to my beautiful, kind, generous, and talented - and have I mentioned beautiful - teammate. 99% of the credit goes to her," Jin said, swerving. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Francis blinked.

"I thought you only started working together when-""99% of the credit is hers," Jin said through gritted teeth and bloodshot eyes. In combination with his black and blue face, he probably looked like an angry, unripe plum.

"Alright," Francis said slowly, enunciating both syllables.

"Well, I'll gladly accept the collaboration on the three Rooms which will go to the library. It'll be fun!" he exclaimed happily, clapping his wrinkled hands together. Jin honestly got the feeling that Francis was just a little bit lonely, but, well, that made sense in a sect where everyone was competing with each other in some way while also either ascending from or staying in the inner ring.

His impression of Francis had risen immensely since the man had helped him with Lung Junior, so he was sure he'd get at least something out of a collaboration. And, well, he did genuinely need a second opinion on his Rooms before releasing them. Critique was what perfected products, and that's what Illusion Rooms were: consumer goods. -/-"It's a work of art, really," General Shroud mumbled as he looked into the depths of the glowing Illusion Room in his hand.

"You've snatched a good seed this time." Flower harrumphed.

"If only his attitude could be improved. Somehow, he gives me the impression that he doesn't care about Illusion Rooms, the sect, or even his own cultivation. He's like one of those mortals working at a job they somehow tolerate. And the things I catch him doing sometimes, why just today I…" she trailed off with a blush. Shroud smirked, a rare expression which crinkled his eyes and showed that if hadn't become a general, he would probably have gained laugh lines somewhere along his life.

But just like the upper structure of Imperial command, his face had to remain blank of emotion and without character to keep his position.

"If I remember correctly, you weren't the most easily manageable inner disciple yourself," he teased lightly.

"I remember quite a lot of Elders, despairing at your incessant picking of fights with the visiting disciples from other sects." Flower scoffed.

"They deserved it, looking down on us just because we don't primarily focus on fighting. It would have been a problem had I lost a bout, but I didn't."

"You're making him participate in the upcoming tournament, aren't you?" Shroud suddenly asked, switching the topic.

"Someone has to push the boy, or else he'll be found in his rooms one day dying of thirst. He'll have been too lazy to get out of bed," Flower said.

"It will do him good, getting better at fighting. Illusion Room cultivators vastly underestimate the additional value one can add to scenarios with a rich fighting experience."

"I heard there's some stiff competition coming from the Mad Monks Sect, the Blazing Fire Sect and the Purple Cloud Sect," Shroud muttered.

"He'll be grouped with the outer disciples of the combat sects like we were back then."

"He'll make them regret it, just like we did," Flower said with fire in her eyes.

"Or he'll come to regret it himself," she finished with clenched fists. Then she frowned.

"Enough about my idiot apprentice. How is the training going?" she asked. Shroud rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He'd have to shave before leaving the command tent. He really didn't feel like it, especially considering he'd have to wear the annoying helmet again, but such was life.

"The morale has increased significantly. The sergeants report that the soldiers can hardly stop talking about the scenario. They're so pumped up we have to prevent them from rushing to the border right away."

"And the martial skills?" Flower asked.

"Better than usual, despite the game being less suited than most. The immersion and the effect of the morale simply mean they get more out of relatively less. If the war at the border goes as we predict, the numbers should speak for themselves. The Illusion Room Sect will get its due," he promised.

"And, well, if you manage to kill that overgrown flying snake…"

"Chihuan Ru Chong's days are numbered," Flower promised.

"But it's all for naught even if I win the battle, because from what I hear, we're losing the war."

"You're referring to the assassination," Shroud said with a sigh.

"Of course you are."

"What else would I be referring to?" Flower bit out.

"Finding someone who's immune and then losing them because security isn't tight enough."

"They knew what they were doing, immolating the body," Shroud agreed.

"It was a miracle that the scenario managed to convince private Yang to confess in the first place. The fact he'd been bitten once already would have gone completely unnoticed otherwise." He paused.

"I'm not supposed to share this, but..." he pulsed his qi, feeling nobody present and nobody watching.

"What is it?" Flower asked, leaning over the table in the middle of the tent and looking at the map of the border on it. There were a bunch of figures covering the circular wall, splitting the world in half. Well, not half. Since a general's tent was considered safe enough and accessible only to people in the know, the map reflected the bleak reality of the world. The human forces were only occupying about a third of the planet.

History had to be rewritten every few thousand years to reflect the fact that territory continued being lost. At a glacial pace, but still.

"We extracted enough flesh and blood that the madmen back in central can perhaps synthesise a cure. It doesn't take that much material to create an outline of the potential cause. At least, so I've been told. I hardly understand the contents of the technical reports I get sent by those eggheads," Shroud admitted.

"Demons and zombies on the outside. Assassins, incompetents and traitors on the inside," Flower muttered.

"And yet the world stays divided."

"Cultivators all think it will be them achieving immortality and ascending to the next plane, and it's hard to convince those old bastards to risk their life when they've spent so much effort prolonging it," Shroud complained before sighing and sitting down on one of the chairs. It had been a hard reality check to become a nascent soul cultivator, someone who had reached the top 0. 01%, only to realise that it barely gave him an easily ignored voice at the table.

Flower came up behind him and put her relatively small but endlessly powerful hands on his shoulders, covered as they were by a simple silk blouse. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, directly attacking the knots hiding away there.

"Let's stop talking about it," she said huskily.

"Or has all the stress given you erectile dysfunction to go along the rod in your ass?" she asked. Shroud laughed aloud and leaned his head back, letting his lips get caught in a searing kiss. After a few seconds, they parted again.

"Every day can be the last, so we'll fight every battle as if it's a matter of life and death," he said.

"Isn't that the promise we made back then?"

"Are you calling our relationship a battle?" Flower asked, amused as she continued massaging his shoulders.

"We both know that if it were a battle, you'd win," Shroud retorted, "but going by the fact that you don't always do that, we can conclude that it maybe isn't." He stood up, digging a hand in Flower's soft hair and smashing their lips together again.