Running with a stiff one was pretty tricky, Henry mused as he deftly dodged through the forest. That chick rattled him, as Henry had never hit a woman like that before. She was a schemer, and Henry feared lady schemers, especially adorable ones.

  He had gotten good loot from the cultivators, though evident by the bundle under his arm. They hadn't been as weak as he thought. The fat one even seemed semi-skilled. Henry didn't realize how bad he was at controlling his ki; in his past life, it was all automated by his A.I. Here, he had to do it by himself; it felt like trying to move a burp around in his stomach while fighting. He could do it, but he wasn't that good at it. To make matters worse, Goldy's cultivation made his energy so potent and dense that it was unwieldy. He would have to be careful not to murder people by accident.

  Henry's hut was in sight, looking just as he had left it. Of course, no one came to check in on Peng, so Henry didn't know why he thought the poor guy had any friends. Entering the hut, he lit the one good candle he knew Peng had hidden for special occasions. He dumped the loot on the floor and took inventory. Two sets of robes, two sets of nice leather boots, two swords, and a mess of elixirs of healings. No gold coins of any kind because, of course, why would these assholes need mortal currency. There were some ki stones, but he had no use for those, which would raise many questions about how he came into ownership of them. He would have to sell everything as soon as he could.

  Using the sword, Henry cut the sleeves off the blue robe and fashioned some trousers using some of the flesh and clothes paste on the floor as glue. Henry would be free-balling it until he got some money and could afford underwear. With the red robe, he made a t-shirt of sorts; he had no clue what the local fashion was like but was confident he could not be seen wearing sect clothing. Clothed and moderately clean, Henry felt like a new man. He strapped the two swords on his back and put all the other things in his burlap sack.

  He looked around the room for anything of worth, and his eyes landed on the wooden box from which he got the golden tablet. The serpents were gone from it now, and it was just an ebony block of wood. Henry didn't know why but felt he should bring that along. This hut held memories, terrible memories of loss and misfortune. Henry was glad he would be gone from this place and liked that Peng would have thought the same.

  Henry sat outside the hut, thinking about how to stage a murder scene. He could move stuff, but that didn't seem murdery enough. Maybe he would burn it down, but he quickly dismissed that idea as it would draw too much attention. Unconsciously, Henry started to cycle his ki, trying to let just the minimum leak into his meridians from his core. It centered him doing this; it helped him to think.

  He let a little too much leak out from his palm, and with a slight crackling sound, there was a little crater where his hand was.

  Bingo.

  Henry knew what he wanted to do. He got up, set his hands in front of the hut a reasonable distance away, and started circulating his ki. He let about three-fourths of his ki out and let it build slowly around his hands. He was sweating from the effort until Henry released the built-up energy in a lapse of control. It sounded like thunder in the distance as he flew backward into a tree. The impact knocked the air out of Henry.

  Looking up at the hut, Henry noticed it was completely obliterated. Nothing was left; it was as if it had never been there.

  Holy Shit, Henry just wanted to stage a murder, but this looked like an act of god. He stared at his hands momentarily and saw that they were smoking. Henry had to ensure he learned how to control this energy better, Henry thought to himself. A single little slip-up and Henry would be hauled off by the local authorities for genocide.

  With the hut completely gone, Henry realized that all traces of Peng were also gone from this world. That thought made him a little sad. The poor guy had nothing and would now leave the world with nothing. Turning away from the hut, Henry headed away from the woods.

  Henry walked for about ten minutes before he saw the first signs of the sect proper. It was still dusk, and the only people around were the serfs who cleaned, probably emptying the nighttime chamber pots. He was going to find someone and ask for directions on how to get to the town at the base of the mountain when he was stopped by a wizened old man instead.

  "Lord Cultivator, this humble servant would like to see how he can assist," the old man said as he bowed deeply to Henry.

  Henry understood why he did this. Peng would have done the same thing. It was better to be helpful to a cultivator than to be considered lazy. Always taking the initiative when serving cultivators was what was beaten into servants like Peng. This old man must have been here for quite a long time because he did it so smoothly and effortlessly.

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  "Tell me what your name is?" Henry said, trying to sound as willful as he could.

  Henry thought it sounded forced, though, like a child pretending to be their parents.

  "This one's name is Old Gao lord cultivator, and you do not look like the honored ones of this sect. This one does not want to overstep, but is it safe to assume that the lord is a foreign cultivator." The old man said all this while never making eye contact with Henry.

  "That is correct, and I need help finding the way leading to the town at the base of this mountain. I am unfamiliar with the grounds here."

  Henry was lost, even with Peng's memory. The poor guy had never left the sect since the day he was taken in.

  "Let this servant lead you, lord," Old Gao said as he walked with purpose towards the gates.

  "Tell me when your sect has its selection ceremony. I am interested in acquiring a disciple for myself."

  Considering his relative age, the old man was much quicker than Henry thought.

  "My lord cultivator is in luck; the ceremony will take place in about a week, and thousands will descend on Crucible City to compete to enter the sect. Someone as powerful as my lord will have no problem with having his pick of the litter."

  Old Gao was skilled at flattery, noted Henry. Judging by how fluidly he sprinkled in compliments, he seemed an old hand at being around cultivators.

  Henry and the old man passed by buildings of increasing complexity and splendor as they descended the mountain. This sect was old and had been hoarding resources for millennia. It showed in the gold lacquered buildings and sandalwood beams that propped up their pavilions.

  Here and there, Henry could see more servants running back and forth, not meeting his eyes. They dared not look up, even though some dared catch a glance of him. Henry cut a strange figure. He was a foreign cultivator, and they knew his kind could be fickle and capricious.

  Henry walked behind the old man, surprisingly spry for his age. Even the old folks were cultivators, which made Henry melancholy about Peng's fate. Even this geezer could cultivate. What kind of life did Peng lead without cultivation at such a young age?

  "We are at the Crimson Gates, my lord. This unworthy servant must leave you here. It is not permitted for one of my status to approach its hallowed ground."

  Henry was snapped out of his mental musings by Old Gao's words.

  "You may leave now; your services were adequate," Henry said aloofly.

  As Old Gao turned to leave when, Henry had a flash of inspiration and rummaged in his bag for a ki stone.

  "Wait!" Henry said, some of his ki leaking out.

  Old Gao became rigid with fear. He dropped on all fours and pressed his head to the dirt. "This one means no offense; please spare me, oh great lord of heaven and earth." The old man was hyperventilating.

  "I was never here, do you understand?"

  "YES! This one was walking to get some fresh air early; anything else is just gossip," said Old Gao as he spied a look at Henry.

  "Very good now as a reward for your silence, take this."

  Henry threw the old man a ki stone. It was of no use to Henry. It was too valuable and suspicious to pawn off somewhere in town; besides, Henry had a soft spot for old folks.

  Old Gao gapped at Henry with a look bordering on reverence.

  "My lord, this unworthy servant does not know what to say; you are like the father that this one has never known. Your benevolence is like the rains that quench the earth."

  Henry cut him off before he could work himself further into a frenzy.

  "What did I say? I was never here, so who gave you that stone if I was never here?" Henry asked expectantly.

  "No one, lord. This Old Gao has always had this. This Old Gao had it his whole life. This is an heirloom that Old Gao had passed down by his ancestors.

  "Very good. I will be on my way now," Henry said, leaving. He heard the rustling of feet, and when he turned back, he saw the old geezer booking it as fast as he could. Henry had to stifle a laugh; the old man was a pro at surviving in this fucked up cultivation world.

  The Crimson Gates was a massive red torii gate flanked by trees, forming a strange, almost manufactured wall. This was the only way in and out of the sect accessible by foot. Standing at the ready were two cultivators in black robes holding massive spears.

  They felt decently strong. Strong enough that Henry needed to think about how he should approach this. Henry knew from his memories that disciples could only leave when allowed to by an elder. The sect did not want their investments just to run away.

  Henry did not think he could fight these two, so all that was left for him to do was fall back on something he was good at.

  Henry was going to have to bullshit his way out of this.

  Help a Bro Out!