Truthful Transmigration 8

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Darkness. The sort of darkness before dawn. A calming yet depressing time where only a few cars were on the road. John pulled into the parking lot of Brad’s Burgers. ‘Brad’ himself had never existed, but Humberto’s Hamburgers was too long of a name for marketing. Or at least so said the man himself.

John sighed as he entered the place. As fast food jobs went, he supposed it paid fairly well. It was just… he had higher expectations for himself. Like finishing his degree and getting a real job. Not that what he was doing now wasn’t work, but it wasn’t a career. Sweeping floors and flipping burgers wasn’t really something he wanted to do long term… but they’d been hiring and it was better than a big chain. 

The sizzle of the patties on the grill was satisfying, at least, and at this time of day the kitchen wasn’t crowded. There wasn’t much of a breakfast rush at burger joints, though John had been surprised at how many people dropped by… and got actual burgers. They had a small breakfast menu as well as a few ‘breakfast burgers’ which had things like eggs on top and different buns, and sometimes sausage patties. 

Humberto himself came into the kitchen, grabbing the burger spatula and flipping some patties. “That’s fifteen seconds too much on that side, Miller.” John sighed. He didn’t intend to let it happen, but it just came out. Humberto was nice enough… but he was very critical of work. And extremely observant. “What’s wrong young man?”

John couldn’t help but be honest. “It’s not a big difference. You correct me on every little thing, but ignore the others. Every time it’s some little thing I’m doing wrong.”

“Is that how you see it?” Humberto asked. He took a deep breath, flipping a few more patties and tossing others into buns, working as he spoke. “Perhaps it looked that way. The thing is, I already told them what they were doing wrong a hundred times. If they’re not going to fix it, why say it again? You fix whatever I tell you is wrong and get a little bit closer to perfect every time. You’ll need to know exactly what makes things right in the future.”

John nodded, continuing his work as well, but couldn’t help but say more. “Why does it matter if my work is slightly better when 90% of them are going to be the way everyone else does it?”

“It’s always important to have that little bit of extra quality,” Humberto said, “And when I am not here, someone will have to know how to do things just right.”

“What do you mean?” John asked. Humberto might have been a tough boss, but he paid well and did more work than anyone else. He was there for opening and closing. John was too, but he needed the hours.

“Did I not mention it yet?” Humberto tilted his head, “I’m opening a new location. So this place will need a manager.”

“What?” John asked. He wasn’t sure if he heard right.

“I thought you would sound happier. It’s not really any more work, just a bit different. And the pay is much better.”

“Are you saying… you want me as manager?”

“Of course. Why would I pick anyone but my hardest worker who knows how to make everything perfectly? Or close enough.”

John breathed a sigh of relief. He physically couldn’t work any more hours, but he couldn’t search for a better paying job either- even if he were qualified. Being promoted to manager? That would at least help the family make ends meet.

—–

John slowly breathed out a black fog. Not a gross one filled with impurities, though he still found it unsettling. Cultivating was… much different from how he thought any sort of magical or supernatural abilities would work. Then again, everything was different from what he thought before he tried it. This particular thing just happened to involve more thinking and meditation instead of throwing fireballs at things. Though some people could do that.

He was currently in his peak state. Though reliving old memories left a bitter taste in his mouth, he was also filled with determination. There was no manager around him to tell him exactly the right way to do things- and to be honest, some people liked their burgers done fifteen seconds more or less. Everyone was different in tastes and styles and what cultivation was best for them. John might not know what was best for him, but he had at least taken the time to attempt to figure it out. He couldn’t go with anything but what he believed was the best.

His essence rocketed to the first layer of the sea of spiritual totems. That was trivial, having done it so many times that he could even reach the third layer and stay for ten or twenty minutes. Then he found himself in front of the Seed of Darkness. He hesitated for only a brief moment before reaching out, coaxing it to form a connection with him. Or maybe coaxing himself to form a connection with it. Was there a difference?

The seed moved, gently flowing into him and sinking into his dantian. That was it. He thought it would be more momentous and dramatic, but as he carefully pulled himself out of the first layer he found it was still inside him just as it should be. Taking careful stock of his dantian, he saw the spiritual energy he had condensed flowing into the seed. It seemed like the seed might absorb everything he had if he let it. Perhaps he would, but in that case he needed to really give it everything. Was that the right way? He would have to actually monitor its progression, but it was part of him now. So far, at least, everything was going well.

He began using his cultivation method, the one Fortkran had experience with. It was the best darkness element one the family had, and it still suited him. He absorbed spiritual energy from the world around him, already thickened by the formation underneath him in the training room. He took the energy through his meridians, a process which was beneficial to both the spiritual energy and those strange veins that carried it. The particular process aligned it better to the darkness element that he was suited for. Had been made suited for, maybe, by the guardian beast.

The seed happily absorbed the darkness elemental energy, filling up and up. Finally, he felt it reach its peak. He only had a few remaining wisps of energy, even after replenishing himself as much as he could. Then he waited, watching the seed. It was just a little point of darkness- like a black hole, or what he imagined one would be like. Much less powerful, of course. As he watched a small wisp of darkness energy trickled out of the seed. As he touched it, he could feel it was much denser than the elemental energy he had put in. He had thought getting a spiritual totem would be like adding one to one, but he was wrong. He now understood how much Matayal had been holding back when they sparred. Instead of adding one to one, he felt more like he had added one to zero. Without the totem, his spiritual energy was… nothing. Fortkran hadn’t been that aware of his own power before the totem, so he hadn’t noticed before. Of course, if he was now at a one she was at least a six or something. He knew she had at least two third level spiritual totems, maybe better. She was still an entire phase ahead of him.

—–

A tide of water poured over him. He found himself forced back step by step, but each step he absorbed a little bit of the impact and even fortified himself with it. He was right about how much stronger Matayal was, but while he had traditionally lost completely to her, at least now she was serious about her actions. 

With a flick of his wrist his sword took an invisible path towards her, striking her straight in the side, only for the momentum to be absorbed by the water elemental barrier around her. A moment later her sword came up and touched the tip of his throat, poking through his own defensive barrier. John sighed. “I lost again.”

Matayal lowered her weapon. “Of course you did. I’m in the Foundation Phase. If I was matching your defensive level, I might have actually been injured by that. I underestimated you. That said… my final attack was something you should have been able to deal with. You put too much into your own attack and forgot defense. That’s dangerous… especially if you don’t defeat your opponent.”

John nodded. “I know. I was just hoping to finally manage something before you left.”

Matayal turned around, her dark hair flowing down her back. “Ambition can be good. Just make sure it doesn’t get you killed.” She paused as she was stepping away. “Do you know why I came here?”

“… I thought it was something to do with the family. But I suppose it was about me. Or how I was.”

“You are correct. I came here to talk with your family about how we could break off the marriage without losing our alliance. Our grandfathers are longtime friends, after all. I didn’t want to go against his specific wishes, but you…” she turned her head over her shoulder, “or at least who you were… I couldn’t abide. But now I am… content enough to leave things as they are.” John didn’t know what to say- so he said nothing. She turned her head back forward and said one final thing as she left. “I will see you again in the future. I hope you are stronger- much stronger- at that time. For both of our sakes.”

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