6-7 Kicking The Bucket Talent Shop(A Cultivation world LITRPG With An Infinite Lore-Onion of Story) (3rd Edition Rewrite)

Chapter 6; Life Two: A Good Brother

Plum POV​

Year 11

It wasn't fair. He was the smarter one, the strategist, the one who deserved the power more than anyone. Me? I was just a lucky orphan, blessed with a slightly better talent and a decent manual that I only have because of him!

I was Level Four Body Tempering, I could definitely go further with this while he remained stuck at the same level he'd reached a year ago.

He'd have to stay there for another 9 years due to the stupid injury that caused all of this!

We shouldn't have taken the energy from those spirit stones, but it was the best option of way too many bad ones!

But I wouldn't let this situation stop us.

We were a team, brothers in arms, and I'd carry us both if I had to.

"Alright, Plum," Spiritward's voice cut through my thoughts, his purple eyes gleaming with mischief, "time to relieve another fat cat of his ill-gotten gains."

I grinned, my heart thrumming with excitement. I ignored the ache from the last spot I painted over.

We were targeting a merchant notorious for diluting his grain with colored sand, tricking people into the thought that the sand was spirit salt and then selling it to desperate families who needed to advance their children's cultivation at exorbitant prices.

Sand- masquerading as spirit salt!

How could someone sell something so wretched!

A scumbag who definitely deserved to be parted from his coin pouch.

People like that who market trash as treasure and then silence the ill with the same thing they sold them. 

Horrible!

Wretched!

A person like that was rotten well beyond the bone!

I even wish we could relieve him of much more, but the heat that it would cause with the local guards would be too much.

"Let's do it," I shouted, "Let's take everything from the bastard!"

Spiritward let out a rare chuckle and I stood up.

The marketplace bustled with activity due to this being market day. The time and date provided a perfect cover for our operation.

As the merchant haggled with an elderly woman, his back was finally turned to his cart with the purposely tainted spirit rice.

A swift movement, a practiced sleight of hand, and the bulging pouch was mine, replaced with a weighted decoy.

I pocketed the gold in the pouch for later and grabbed the key.

I gave the signal for Spiritward to cause a distraction by causing a secondary distraction.

Shouts of alarm filled the street as I unlatched a horse from the merchants wagon and projected my Qi at it intimidatingly. The horse ran off and Spiritward did something that caused an even bigger commotion on the other side of the market. 

This gave me the opportunity to sneak near the strongbox at the back of the cart. I opened it, stacks of silver and gold went all the way to the top.

I grabbed a sack, emptied out the sand-laden rice and wheat.

I shoved the silver and gold into the sack and blitzed forwards to the edge of the crowd where spiritward was waiting.

There were spirit stones in there too, but that gave me an idea. I grabbed one of the spirit stones and tossed it at the merchant's face. 

I dumped the other spirit stones to the opposite side of my stride and bolted towards where we were going to meet.

I stopped running and switched to a longer shirt to hide the markings I've been making to hide the physical problems I've been having from Spiritward.

Once I was sure no one was looking I swapped back into a different shirt with a nicer color- one a clan member would wear and started walking slowly.

Spiritward gave me the hand slap thing that was a declaration of a job well done.

He called it a high-five.

I still think his fist-bump is better, but he said not to mess with the classics, whatever that meant.

We melted back into the crowd with the thrill of success warming me.

Despite the fake biting cold caused by my left arm elbow acupoint.

This wasn't just about survival anymore.

It couldn't be.

At least not for me.

"One step closer," I murmured, clutching the sack to my chest.

One step closer to a better life, one step closer to finding a pair of high-grade meridian repair pills for Spiritward and I.

They existed, I knew they did, somewhere in this vast city.

I wouldn't rest until I found them.

I'd find a way to fix us both.

"Both of us…"

"What'd you say? Plum?"

"Nothing." I responded.

Back in our dilapidated shack which we upgraded from a dilapidated hut a few months ago, I sat cross-legged on the floor, attempting to push my cultivation further.

The Chi flowed through my meridians, a familiar burn that I usually welcomed.

But today, the burn intensified, morphing into a searing pain that made me gasp.

A dark bruise bloomed along my arm, a stark reminder of the toll my accelerated cultivation was taking on my body.

I gritted my teeth, willing the pain away, but it only intensified.

Spiritward glanced at me, his gaze sharp and observant. "Everything alright, Plum?"

"Just a… a little sore from training," I stammered, hastily covering the bruise with my sleeve.

He narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. "You sure?"

"Yeah," I forced a smile, my voice strained. "Just celebrating our latest victory, you know?"

He grunted, seemingly satisfied with my explanation.

But I knew he wasn't fooled entirely.

He was too perceptive, too attuned to the subtle shifts in my demeanor.

Later that night, as Spiritward slept, I traced the outline of the bruise with a finger dipped in red paint, creating a swirling pattern that masked the evidence of my pain.'

This was the third one.

It was a secret I had to keep, a burden I had to bear alone.

For Spiritward, for my sworn brother, for our future.

Year 12

8 More years. I knew I could get the Repair Pill sooner though.

I started doing side-heists while Spiritward slept.

I needed to have enough.

I needed to help us both.

I painted my radial shoulder meridian with a red flame design to cover the bruise.

"Plum, what were you doing out so early?"

Year 13.

I had reached the fifth level.

But beneath the paint I knew my whole body was a bruise.

I put more orange paint on top of the red.

Spiritward would get suspicious if I just stopped 'celebrating' after every successful heist.

The permanent red paint was also starting to change color.

I knew my body was breaking.

I'd fix it!

I had to!

Year 14.

The alchemist's shop, tucked away like a secret in the labyrinthine alleys of the fourth ring, exuded an aura of dusty mystique.

The scent of exotic herbs and pungent concoctions hung heavy in the air, promising both healing and danger.

He was a wizened old man, his beard as white as snow and his eyes like pools of ancient wisdom.

He listened to my desperate plea with an unwavering gaze, his expression a mask of apathy.

"Meridian Repair Pills," he said, in his tinny voice, "are a rare treasure indeed. Their creation requires meticulous skill and ingredients found only in the most perilous corners of the world."

Hope surged within me, a fragile flame flickering in the darkness. "You have them?"

A nod. "I do. But such miracles come at a steep price."

My hand instinctively reached for the pouch hidden beneath my robes, the weight of our stolen gold a meager offering. " I have gold," I said, my voice laced with a sliver of hope.

The alchemist's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Gold? Child, in this shop, gold is mere dust beneath our feet. Spirit stones are the currency of power, and a Meridian Repair Pill demands a king's ransom in such currency."

My heart sank like a stone, the weight of his words crushing the fragile hope I'd dared to entertain.

"But-" I stuttered, desperation creeping into my voice.

He chuckled, a dry, humorless sound that echoed through the dusty shop. "Unless you possess a talent that rivals the heavens, or an artifact plucked from the hands of an Immortal, gold will not suffice. Now, Out."

The dismissal was clear.

I was just another slum rat, an insignificant speck in the eyes of this powerful alchemist.

Shame burned in my throat as I turned to leave, the dream of healing Spiritward fading into a distant fantasy.

As I stepped back into the bustling marketplace, the weight of reality pressed down upon me.

In this world, power was everything, and we were nothing.

No one was willing to exchange gold for spirit stones.

But despair wouldn't mend Spiritward's broken meridians.

It wouldn't pave our path out of the slums.

So, I swallowed my pride and steeled my resolve. We would find another way. We had to.

Year 15.

This heist would be my last.

I would take everything from the alchemist shop.

I would certainly die trying, but this talisman of position swapping will deliver the spatial storage ring and the letter.

I hope Spiritward would forgive me.

I'd miss new years.

Year 16, Day one.

Spiritward POV​

I awoke again.

Plum had been acting weird lately.

I mean weirder than usual.

The year after my meridians were damaged, Plum had started painting himself.

The reason he told me was a lie, I knew, but I didn't want to pry into his business.

He seemed fine.

I hadn't seen him come back for new-years celebration yesterday.

I frowned and went to his room, feeling like something was wrong.

On his untouched bed, was a letter and a small innocuous black ring.

I knew it was a spatial storage ring.

"Plum, what have you done…" I whispered.

I ignored the ring obviously full of treasure and opened the letter.

-Spiritward,

I don't know how to start this, or even if I have the right to ask for your forgiveness. I did something stupid, something reckless. I stole from the alchemist.

He did nothing wrong, except refuse my meager offering of gold. He didn't deserve to be robbed, not like those greedy merchants and cruel landlords we usually target. But I was desperate, blinded by my desire to help you, to find a way to mend your broken meridians.

I failed. The price of the pills was beyond anything I could imagine. And now, I'm paying the price for my actions.

"NO!"

My body is failing, Spiritward. The years of pushing my cultivation beyond its limits, the strain of hiding my injuries, it's all catching up to me. I don't have much time left.

This is goodbye, brother. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I'm sorry I couldn't be the friend you deserve.

"NO! NO! NO!"

Please, Spiritward, stop climbing. This city, this world, it's too cruel, too unforgiving. Find a quiet town, a peaceful village, and live a simple life. Don't let my sacrifice be in vain.

"THIS CAN't BE HAPPENING!"

You are my brother, my friend, the only family I've ever known. Live a long life, for both of us.

Plum.

P.S.

The ring contains everything I've managed to acquire over the years. Use it wisely.

"WE WERE GOING TO DO IT TOGETHER! YOU WRECKLESS MORON!"

P.P.S

Don't co-

-

The letter ends abruptly, a dark stain of blood marring the corner of the page.

My knees fell to the ground.

They fell to the ground like the countless tears that left my eyes unending.

That night. I followed his advice as tears fell down my face.

The tears fell onto the ground like a vase.

Shattered like my aspirations.

It wasn't worth it anymore.

I'd find a nice village.

Or a town.

I don't care anymore.

But I'll live for Plum.

Chapter 7; Life 2: Grief and Boon

The world was muted gray to my eyes.

I moved through the fifth Ring and entered the sixth.

I moved but I didn't care.

I moved passed and even through the shouting ruffians and emaciated people who called the sixth ring home as they scrambled out of the way.

The only reason I wasn't being messed with was no one had cultivation here and they could at least feel I had Qi.

My vision was gray like the backdrop of grays and browns smeared with the grime of the lesser slums.

It held no meaning.

Cultivation had no meaning.

Not in this city.

I moved through it like a ghost, my body on autopilot, my mind a numb void echoing with Plum's final written words.

I shook my head.

I didn't need revenge, I needed to leave.

The ramshackle hovels of the sixth ring blurred past me, not due to speed, but apathy.

I wandered out of the gate and into what might be a seventh ring in about one hundred or so years, the inhabitants mere shadows in my peripheral vision.

The burgeoning shantytown beyond the gate held nothing for me.

This festering wound on the city's outskirts was just more of the color brown.

Escape, that was all that mattered.

Escape from this city.

The city that took everything from me.

Hours passed and I walked through the darkening plains, the road leading somewhere, I didn't actually care where.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" a mocking voice sliced through the haze of my grief.

Apparently it's five idiots and their six out of their depth friends. 

Apparently none of whom can figure out how to measure Qi.

I looked up to see a group of ragged men blocking my path, their faces twisted into cruel smirks, their eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.

The other six look like apes and one of them is just repeatedly swinging a knife in the air.

They're this stupid and somehow have their lives still?

The Six of them who were mere Level ones had their stances placed in ways that were more menacing than their actual threat.

Bandits like these would die in a few days.

Numbers mean nothing in this world. 

A group of eleven idiots at the third level Gathering fighter would die to a single fourth stage fighter.

The nearby sect would send a Qi Condensation level fighter and they'd die instantly just from projected Qi.

They didn't even have more than one person at Qi Gathering level three.

They must have just started for some reason.

Three of them in front were the subleaders, clearly.

A hulking brute, a skinny moron, and a large, fat wretch of man.

That one reeked of some kind of faulty Level two cultivation.

Their leader, a greasy-haired thug with a scarred face, exuded the aura of a Level three, his strength amplified by his athletic physique.

He clearly did something moronic with his cultivation. He can't advance ever again from what I'm sensing.

"Looks like a lost little lamb," the fat level two of the group sneered, cracking his knuckles. "Just wandered into the wrong pasture."

"Lost and loaded," the leader added, his gaze lingering on the pouch where I kept Plum's letter and the storage ring. "Let's see what treasures this little sheep has hidden away!"

They started laughing like that was funny.

Their words were meaningless noise, buzzing flies against the backdrop of my grief.

They were obstacles, nothing more.

I moved like a phantom.

Even with phantom steps, I refuse to call an orange movement technique 'Phantom Lord's Myriad Forms.' Damn imbecile who made it must have been a third-grader with super-saiyan 42 training muscles.

As I moved with the obviously mislabeled technique, it was still enough to be a blur of motion unseen by their untrained eyes. 

Six sharp cracks echoed in the stagnant air as I twisted their necks, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the ground like discarded toys.

The Level twos barely registered the demise of their companions before I was upon them. their eyes widened in terror, a silent scream frozen on his lips as I delivered the same swift justice.

The leader, the Level three brute, stood frozen, his face contorted in a mixture of confusion and dawning fear. 

He hadn't even seen me move, only the aftermath of my actions.

I stepped towards him, my gaze locked onto his.

A cold fury radiated from my being. 

He was a partial symbol of everything that had taken Plum from me.

But he was the result, not the cause.

It was just a representation of the cruelty and injustice of this world.

He stumbled back, fear finally overcoming his bravado. "W-who are you?" he stammered, his voice cracking with terror.

"Death to a moron who can't measure the strength of themselves or others," I droned, my voice a low mumble that echoed in the silence of the paved road outside of the gate.

Before he could even blink, my fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling onto the dusty ground.

He was strong, yes, but against my speed and Level Four cultivation, he was a helpless infant.

This was the difference in cultivation.

If he were level Five, I would be worthless before him, too.

I unleashed a torrent of blows, each strike fueled by my grief and rage.

He was a punching bag, a canvas upon which I painted my fury, a pathetic substitute for the justice Plum deserved.

He whimpered and begged through a mumble and broken teeth.

He asked for mercy.

"Mercy!" He begged again, mistaking my confusion for what he had said.

He thought I couldn't hear him.

But I was just incredulous.

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

There was no mercy in this world, only the cold calculus of survival. On this day, my survival meant his demise.

I gave him the mercy of a swift end.

The crack rang out and I stood.

I surveyed the meager belongings of the fallen bandits with a sneer. Rusted blades, tattered clothes, and empty purses. Pathetic. Their leader, however, proved more fruitful.

A worn booklet peeked from his fur coat, and a pouch was strapped to his side and indenting the dirt where he fell.

The booklet first. Long Legged Wind Stride, the title proclaimed. A movement technique, utilizing leg muscles for unnatural bursts of speed, with the potential to generate wind Chi at higher cultivation levels.

Mid-blue quality. Not bad for a roadside thug.

"Thanks, you stupid, dead, fucking bastard," I muttered, tucking the booklet into my robes.

"Why not use a manual like that instead of standing there like a moron." I muttered.

It was another tool for my survival kit.

There were no drawbacks I could see from the initial look-through.

It was hard to comprehend, though.

That might be why he hadn't used it.

Aptitude.

More unfairness.

The pouch joined the growing collection of ill-gotten gains within the spatial ring. 

I'd sort through it later, along with the treasures Plum had sacrificed himself for.

I go over the technique, not to master it, but to memorize the contents so in case I died again I could use it in the next life. 

I memorized the contents after a few passes of looking and reading, then I started trying to learn it genuinely.

I memorized the intricate diagrams and cryptic instructions.

The moon had risen and my journey had just begun.

The familiar ache in my meridians reminded me of the gift Plum had left behind.

Reaching into the spatial ring, I retrieved another high-quality meridian repair pill, the second of the three he had miraculously procured.

With a grimace, I swallowed it, the potent medicine coursed through my damaged channels, slowly mending the wounds I had inflicted upon myself in my desperation.

Before going to bed, I'd take one more, and my meridians would be fixed.

I hadn't gone through all the pills, but plum really saved me.

He truly was a good brother.

I wait 10 minutes, and go back to practicing the movement technique.

About 5 hours later, I took the final High quality meridian restoration and repair pill.

Climbing a nearby tree, I secured myself to a sturdy branch and allowed sleep to claim me, the rustling leaves a calming piece of music compared to how the city sounds at night.

I woke up quickly as dawn broke, birds chirped as orange and pink of the sky I hadn't seen since being isekai'd here in what I'll call life 0.

I sighed as I descended from my perch and set off, my steps lighter than they had been in years.

The road stretched before me, leading away from the festering wound of the city, towards an uncertain future.

In the distance, a weathered signpost marked a crossroads.

I should probably check the rest of what was in the ring, but I didn't feel up to it yet.

I had arrived at the signpost.

It marked 15 different paths, at least two of which would mark a terrible fate for me.

One, a wide brick road, led back to the city I sought to escape.

Also, a highway, stretching into the horizon, pointed towards a distant capital city, a journey of 1980 kilometers.

A fool's errand for someone like me, and an even more foolish endeavor to try to enter if I even survived reaching it.

I ignored the path back to the city and the distant allure of the capital.

My gaze finally lingered on the remaining three options.

Village, town, or even smaller village?

The choice was mine, the path forward unclear.

Large Village of Rumdrink 510 Kilometers.

Large Village of Runetether 380 Kilometers.

Small Town of Woodhall 439 Kilometers.

I turned to the northeast, and began walking on the mid-size dirt path.

The Large Village of Runetether it was.

Year 16 Day 6

The dirt path towards Runetether stretched before me, a dirt road winding through the vast green plains.

With each step, I pushed myself further, my legs burning, my lungs screaming for respite.

The 'Long Legged Wind Stride' technique was proving more challenging than I anticipated.

I crashed head-first into a sturdy tree as I missed a step and launched myself much faster than I meant to.

Year 16 Day 7.

My initial attempts at learning this technique were clumsy, my strides were uneven and my balance was garbage.

I stumbled and fell, tasting the stone grit and dirt of the path on my tongue.

frustration gnawed at me.

The technique required precise control of internal Chi.

It also required a subtle manipulation of Qi in my legs that I had yet to master.

With a cracking sound I knocked over yet another tree.

Year 16 day 13

I persisted.

With each sunrise, I rose and ran.

the manual's instructions echoing in my mind as I tried to do it with the expected channeling and movements.

I visualized the flow of Qi in my legs and the subtle shifts in my muscles as the coordinated movements that would propel me forward with unnatural speed-.

Failed again.

I really wanted to be strong.

I wanted to be fast.

I would be fast.

Year 16 day 21

Days blurred into nights.

The landscape full of trees, grass, exotic flowers and ferns seemed to mock me as I slammed, yet again, head first into another tree.

Year 16 Day 29

The sun beat down on my back, the wind whipped at my face, and still, I ran. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I began to feel a change.

My strides grew longer, my movements more fluid.

The Qi allotted for this technique flowed more readily.

My efforts made the Qi respond to my commands with increasing precision.

The stumbles became less frequent as the day went on as the falls became less painful and uncontrolled.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the plains, I felt it.

A surge of energy, a lightness in my step, a sense of effortless movement.

I was gliding across the path, my feet barely touching the ground, the wind whistling past me as if urging me forward.

I had done it. I had learned and used the 'Long Legged Wind Stride!' 

Well, at least in its initial stages.

I smiled for the first time since Plum's death.

I tried to smother it as it spread across my face.

But I had made progress and I felt too good.

Exhausted but exhilarated, I settled down beneath a gnarled tree.

I examined its branches as I tried to find a portion of the tree that offered a good portion of shelter from the coming night.

It was time to sort through the spoils of our heists, the treasures Plum had entrusted to me.

Most of the pills were mundane – basic healing salves, low-grade cultivation accelerators, and common body strengthening concoctions. Useful, but nothing extraordinary.

Then, I saw it. 

A small, jade-green pill nestled at the bottom of a normal pouch inside of the ring. 

Its surface pulsed with a subtle energy, a faint hum that resonated within my own Chi.

My eyes widened as I recognized the inscription etched on its surface: "Meridian Widening and Dantian Reinforcement Talent Enhancing Pill."

This wasn't just any pill.

This was a treasure beyond measure, a chance to rewrite my chances in this life.

I knew this was a chance to break free from the shackles of my low talent and reach a bit higher.

I had always known they were unattainable in this life.

But why shouldn't I reach a little higher if it would make it easier not to lose someone next time.

With trembling hands, I brought the pill closer, its energy warming my palm.

A spark clicking into place was felt as hope, however small and dim started to sputter to life.

That flicker of hope sparked into a new ember.

The tiny flame of hope flickered back to life within me was nearly non-existent.

But it was enough to take a step.

This boon.

"Thank you Plum."

For everything.

"I will do it for my good brother. I will drink a drink for you who never got old enough to drink. I will live for you and if I live long enough maybe I will find a jade beauty to live with and make a family like you wanted for yourself. I'll live. My first son will be named Plum."

I swallowed the pill.