Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Griffen's gaze zipped all over the store as he followed behind Lincoln. Marcus was up front, leading them to the back. Griffen had never been inside a talisman store before. He didn't have the ability. Besides, what would a slum rat like him need with a talisman? That was for those who had money.

"Don't get distracted now," Lincoln whispered, looking back at Griffen from the corner of his eye. Dust motes twirled by his face as he passed through a shaft of light, the rays briefly catching in his brown eyes.

Nodding, Griffen's feet shuffled faster, his bare skin scratching on the aged wood.

A few moments later, Marcus brought them to a door deeper in the shop and pushed it open. Griffen glanced back, his gaze jumping over the shelves that lined the shop wall and made up the aisle. Impressive. Perhaps Lincoln could get him the opportunity to use one if things kept going well.

"Are you coming?" Lincoln asked. With a smile on his face, Lincoln held the door open and gestured for Griffen to step inside.

Flustered, the boy hurried forward, warmth flooding his cheeks as his eyes drifted to the scratchy wood below his feet. A subtle heat played along his skin, calming the goosebumps that had taken hold on his arms. Griffen's eyes lifted, widening as he took in the room.

Lincoln stepped past him, the door whispering shut with a light tap and click. "You can sit over there," Lincoln said, pointing to a chair hiding in the corner.

Griffen nodded, his mind whirling with comparisons. Never had he seen a fire inside a room—not one with stone around it, anyway. Perhaps when he was younger. He couldn't be too sure.

As he padded over to the chair, feeling the warmth on the soles of his feet, Griffen's eyes moved to the portrait that watched them at the back of the room. The man—his features slightly mirroring Marcus—held calm in his full grasp. It was as if nothing in the world could disturb him. Who was he?

"So, what have you found?" Marcus asked, yanking the chair back, which screeched against the wood in protest, before claiming his position at the head of the table with a decisive thump.

"A tanner," Lincoln said, sliding his chair out from under the table end and smoothly sitting down. "They tend to need a lot of animal skin, right? And unless they have a good contract with the Farmhands, they won't get much access to any."

Raising a hand, Marcus rubbed at his cheek. "A tanner, that makes some sense actually," he muttered. His eyes then flicked back up to Lincoln. "You've found this tanner already?"

Lincoln shook his head, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Not quite. Griffen here has an uncle who's a tanner. From what he tells me, he's amazing with his hands."

Embarrassment flooded Griffen's chest, heat snaking up his neck. When had he said his uncle was amazing with his hands? Griffen's eyes immediately snapped to the ground as Marcus's eyes shifted to him. The last thing he needed was to expose Lincoln with the look on his face.

I have to control myself. Lincoln needs me. I can't let any weakness show.

"Really," Marcus said, elongating the word. "And he can be sure the man would accept the skin of hairless rats?"

"Yeah. Definitely. This is Griffen's family that we are talking about," Lincoln said.

Glancing up, Griffen found a puzzled expression on Marcus's face, as if asking what the tanner being Griffen's family had to do with anything. Shaking his head, Marcus sighed. "So that's a no. I guess that's why you came to me," Marcus said, leaning back into the chair, which let out a low squeal.

The fire crackled in the back, its light dancing on the room's walls as it played with the darkness lingering at the furthest edges. "Not quite," Lincoln said with a light chuckle. "It's a little complicated. But as you know, Jodie and I are currently having a bit of a disagreement."

A snort slipped from Marcus's nose, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, but I think it's a bit more than a disagreement. I don't know what you did, but you've really got her wound up."

"I'm aware," Lincoln mumbled.

Griffen scrunched his brow, his mind working to place the name. Had Lincoln brought this Jodie person up before? Was she the one causing him all this trouble? His thoughts moved back to the night Lincoln had saved him; there had been two girls present then. But what were their names? Was one of them Jodie?

"So, what?" Marcus said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers on the table. "You want me to go with you and negotiate this deal, while also making it seem like it was my idea?"

"Something like that."

"Alright, we can do that."

"I'm glad you agreed. Trust me, Hector is going to—"

"But," Marcus interrupted. "I'm not hitching my bets on this guy. Now that you've brought it up, my dad knows a few tanners. If this guy isn't any good, I can go to them. As a matter of fact, I probably still will. It's not good to have too many eggs in one basket."

"Uh-huh," Lincoln mumbled. That wasn't good. If he started acting without Lincoln's input, how could Lincoln be in control? Griffen wanted to get up. To say something. But it wasn't his place. Marcus was an idiot; if Lincoln wasn't involved, too many things could go wrong.

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"Alright," Lincoln said, letting out a heavy sigh. "But can I at least come with you when you are doing these other meetings?"

"Do you have a suit?"

"No."

"Then there is your answer," Marcus said, getting up from his seat. "To be honest, I consider you a friend, but at the moment, you aren't in Jodie's good books. If I work too closely with you, I won't be either."

"That's how it is?" Lincoln asked, getting up from his own seat.

Griffen did the same. A cluster of thoughts swirled around his mind, but the most pressing one was this Jodie person. Who was she that even without being there, she could mess with Lincoln's plans? She must be pretty scary.

A thought snapped in Griffen's mind, images of a ginger-haired girl outside his bars. She'd been pretty scary. That had to have been her.

"Alright then," Lincoln said. "When do you want to meet the guy?"

—- —- —- —-

Watching Mirae step into the middle of the dimly lit cavern, taking her position at what would be the centre of the hideout, Hector sighed. A moment later, a pulse of energy ripped free from her; her white hair waving slightly as the dome expanded, covering a twenty-meter diameter around her.

At his side, Pippa's mother gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. "Core Formation," she mumbled.

Hector shot her a glance while Jodie let out a low chuckle, stepping past the woman, heading for the campfire. "Not even close. She hasn't even made it to Gravity Forging-One yet."

"Then how?"

Jodie shrugged, dropping to one knee by the fire. A pool of liquid flame bubbled to life beneath it for a brief moment before draining back into nothing, leaving crackling flames playing across the wood as the campfire yawned to life. Its flames licked at Jodie's face as she backed away, falling on her butt with a huff.

Her eyes moved from Pippa's mother to Hector. "I can't say exactly. To be honest, I… what were we talking about again?" Jodie blinked, confusion in her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She'd probably come a bit too close to talking about Talents for the [Shared Secret]'s liking.

"W-What's going on?" Pippa's mother asked. Her head snapped towards Hector.

"Don't worry about it too much," Hector said, stepping past her and moving over to the fire. Pippa, following behind him, shuffled over to Mirae's side.

"How did you just do that?" she asked in a whisper. Her eyes shifted to Hector, and she took a little step closer to his sister. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

Mirae said nothing. She just chuckled awkwardly.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Hector's lips. If he'd been a mortal, her whisper might have evaded his ears. But with his cultivation having reached Gravity Forging-Two, her whispers were well within his ears' reach.

Perhaps if this ends up being long-term, I can include these three in the pact. It holds fifteen, after all. But as of now, it's a bit too early.

Hopping off the floor, Jodie strolled over to Hector. He stopped just before his tent, turning to her. "I'm just about to check the supplies; with these three and yourself, I need to know how long they will last."

Harry stood towards the edge of the dome, his hands running across his neck, a look of amazement swirling in his blue eyes. Hector, placing a hand on the tent flap, squinted at him. Was the boy alright? On their way down through the sewers and the darkening caves, he hadn't spoken all that much. He only kept them informed of the progress of the watching sensation when prompted.

According to him, the deeper they went, the less intense it was. That was a bonus for Hector. The last thing he needed was to lead whatever was following Harry down here. His hunch had told him it wouldn't, and he was glad it was right.

"You aren't even gonna take a rest after what you did?" Jodie said, drawing his eyes away from Harry.

What had he done?

His sandaled foot cracking down onto the man's spine had put an end to the Collar Gang member. Admittedly, he hadn't fully held back; perhaps if he had, the man would have lived. But he hadn't. Neither had the one that he bounced off the concrete.

He checked them over after the fight. Told Mirae that the two were still alive. A lie. Anyone who got too close would have been able to see how stiff they were. He didn't let Mirae get close. But Jodie, being Jodie, she'd seen it, and she hadn't appreciated it.

"It wasn't my intention," Hector said, his eyes dropping briefly. "I just wanted to get it over with quickly. Besides, they fully intended to kill us. I did what I had to. The slums aren't exactly a place of mercy."

Sighing, Jodie played with her fingers. She turned her head slightly, glancing at Mirae and Pippa, who sat by the fire, muttering to each other. "On the one hand, I want to be angry." Jodie turned back to Hector, her eyes simmering with what seemed to be empathy. "But… I don't know if it's because I've been down here fighting these rats for so long. Though now, I understand they gave us little choice and the outcome couldn't really have been much different, even if we tried to reason."

Raising a brow, Hector released the tent flap and crossed his arms, gesturing for her to continue.

"I mean, even if we had let them go, they would have just come back with more guys. If they'd seen us again at another time, they would have tried to kill us then, too." Jodie raised a hand, cupping it against her brow before dragging it back through her ginger locks. "All I mean to say is… I get it, alright." Jodie turned, walking away.

Hector's hands flopped to his sides, his gaze following Jodie as she walked away. While she hadn't said she'd kill—he didn't want her to have to—it meant there was progress. Perhaps he could be a little more aggressive with the Collar Gang going forward.

Hector ducked into the tent. Spending a few minutes inside, Hector counted the supplies and did some rough calculations before popping back out. Standing over the fire whilst the other four sat around it, Jodie was giving them the rundown of the hideout.

Fire crackled playfully, its embers sputtering about in small loose tornadoes. As Hector walked over, sandaled feet slapping on stone, everyone turned towards him. "So, how are we looking?" Jodie asked.

Hector shook his head. His eyes shifted between Pippa, Pippa's mother, and Harry. "With these guys joining us, the supplies we have with us won't last for more than two days."

"So what does that mean?" Pippa's mother asked. She shuffled closer to her daughter, her hand reaching for the girl.

Hector's gaze moved to Jodie. "Nothing yet. We just have to assume our plans are gonna work out," Hector said, not alluding to what exactly the plans were. "Also, when did that happen?" Hector raised his arm, poking a finger towards Harry's neck.

The black lines that had once scrawled all over it had now receded. Their shape had become blurred; if Hector wasn't paying attention, he'd hardly notice them—and that was with his Gravity Forging-Two cultivation.

"I don't know," Harry said, reaching for his neck. His hands brushed along his skin, a soft smile coming to his lips. "When this dome formed, it just happened." He glanced up, eyes tracking the curve of the [Gentle Sanctuary]. "As soon as I was within it, the faint, hazy watching feeling that lingered disappeared, and it was as if this weight on my chest lifted. Almost like a breath of fresh air."

Hector frowned. His gaze shifted between Mirae and Jodie.

It seems this Talent suppresses whatever is happening with Harry. But that's only suppression. Since the lines are still there and not gone outright, it can only mean whatever's happening to him will resurface as soon as he leaves the dome's influence.

Hector nodded, wetting his lip. They had supply issues, and now a problem that needed to be suppressed. By the Great Lake, Hector hoped Lincoln would have some good news for him with the dump guard.

As for selling hairless rat parts…

How hard could it be to find someone who'd want some meat or leather?