Chapter 89

“Waaah,” Yao Jing whispered, staring into space as he received and accepted the invitation to membership. 

In the meantime, Arthur turned away, the Tower notifications burning in his mind. He knew that they needed answering, and soon. His left hand had begun to burn again, the seal throbbing against his flesh.

“Is there a private room I can use?” he asked. “Somewhere . . . private?” Words eluded him.

Smirking, Head Attendant Ibrahim turned to his assistant Lai and nodded. The crowd, so intent on watching them thus far let out a disappointed sigh when Lai gestured for Arthur to follow him. Together, the pair—for Yao Jing was quick to follow—moved after the attendant, skirting around the counter to head behind the scenes into a nearby meeting room.

“I’ll bring some water. Though, I would not overstay your welcome,” the attendant said, before he shut the door on the pair.

Arthur flopped himself into a nearby chair, managing to blurt out a command to Yao Jing to watch the door, before he gave in to the pressing notifications. He knew that if he kept them away any longer, the Tower would have extracted its own pound of flesh.

“Harsh! F rank is not great for the bank,” Arthur said as he read the notification. What the heck was a credit rating and why did the Tower inform him of that? He could have understood a star rating—the outside world used that to rank most of the guilds and clans—but a credit rating?

He shook his head after a moment, discarding the thought. It was another mystery to plumb the depths of later. Right now, he was driven by an urgent request to let additional notifications appear, as well as concern over his friends—and yes, that even included Jan.

“What the hell is Adventure?” This was the second time he was seeing it. It annoyed Arthur that there was so little information provided. And somehow, he was supposed to make a choice that would define his clan forever. “I swear, if there’s no do-over button somewhere, I’m going to be pissed.”

There hadn’t been one thus far. Maybe it was some weird Tower metaphor for life: you rarely got a chance to do over your mistakes. You made choices and lived with them. If they weren’t perfect, you made do. 

For that matter, wasn’t that the purpose of life? Making do with whatever hellscape fate had thrown you in? To Arthur, hell was growing up now instead of a hundred years ago, when the world was still bright and shiny and the economies of the world had yet to be taken over by nearly-intelligent robots and automated factories. Back then smart cars were smart enough to drive you everywhere but not smart enough to recognise that your average monkey was going to yeet a rock at you, just because it could. 

Speaking of wild monkeys, the number of stray dogs and cats had increased vastly, finding food among the improperly packed dumpsters now serviced by automated garbage trucks that had not the sense to clean things up before turning the world over.

At one point, Malaysia—and the whole world, really—had been a bright shining oyster. And then all the world’s birds came home to roost, often in climate-changed deserts that had never been there before, and now they paid humans to just exist, calling it Universal Basic Income or the like. Magical, perhaps alien, Towers stood above them all, offering the only promise of salvation or escape.

He sent a mental prod, only to find that the Tower had no answer for him as to what an Adventure aspect was. Somehow, he had expected that, but he still tried it on all the other Aspects in a vague hope that it was an error. Unsurprisingly, no response. All he could read about the Aspects were their single-word names.

Once again, Arthur felt entirely out of his depth. He had probed Mel for everything she knew, but that had been rather sparse as well. No one had expected to need information on how to set up or run a clan or guild. It was so far outside expectations for your average cultivator that it might as well have been like attempting to catch the jade rabbit on the moon.

Which meant that whatever information Mel had was cobbled together from vague memories, occasional comments on forum posts, and a basic primer about what clans and guilds were for. None of which was particularly useful in setting one up.

In the end, all Arthur could do was go with his gut and his intention. In some way, he wondered if that was the entire point of giving so little information. Maybe the Tower wanted cultivators to focus on big-picture concepts and desires, rather than attempting to min-max their system.

That is, if the Tower or its creators even had specific desires and plans.

Arthur knew his mind was bouncing around to simply put off making the decision. He should be attempting to analyze the names of the Aspects to work out their subtle nuances. But how much could you analyze with a single word? Obviously, Guardianship meant more protective works, which marked it different than Security, which likely meant a way to safeguard oneself rather than others. And Recuperation was likely some form of healing or recovery, perhaps useful for those with a medical background.

Nothing about money here. But so far he had been led to believe that many of the choices offered now were determined partially by the choices he had made before. A hotel with Security as its first Aspect might offer different options than an office building. Arthur wondered if he should have picked a different building. Maybe he would have been offered an Aspect that helped generate income? 

He liked money, but Arthur had always believed that so long as one survived and moved on, chances to find and grow one’s wealth would always appear.

Still, some of the options left him puzzled. What did Courage do? Was it a boost to mental willpower? Did it perhaps make risky cultivation techniques easier to learn or even available via the Tower? Did it increase the chances of meeting powerful monsters on a floor, with the resulting benefit of stronger cores?

Adventure at least made some sort of sense, if one considered his most recent, well, adventure. Was it one of those Aspects that subtly influenced how the Tower offered quests or guided cultivators? If so, it could be both a boon and a bane at the same time.

As the saying went—one wrongly ascribed to the Chinese—interesting times were almost always a curse.

“Boss?” Yao Jing called out, pulling Arthur from another damn random thought. 

“Just thinking. Big decision.”

“From now on, boss, you gonna make a lot of big decisions. You know what? Best thing is: Just get it over. That’s what I always say.”

“No thinking, no consideration?” Arthur said, amused.

“The heavens like to give us a good kick in the butt,” Yao Jing, “No matter what you choose, you’re gonna make mistakes sometimes. Better to make a lot of decisions, then maybe more will be good ones.”

“You’re the kind who never studied for their exams, eh?”

“Yup. My mum always angry with me,” Yao Jing said, grinning. “But I got better things to do.”

Arthur snorted. But Yao Jing was right. At least, in saying that Arthur had a lot of other big decisions to make. And this one, it needed making fast. He kept forgetting—or ignoring—the threat that Boss Choi had leveled. So. If he could make a choice, for now and forever . . . if he wanted something for the Clan, for himself . . .

He’d choose a world that was better. For him, and others.

Guardianship.

When his decision flowed up the connection to the Tower, he felt it snap into place. And his palm, his body, electrified. Down his palm, into his soul, and then outward to all the other clan members.