Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

Mrs. Strongmail held his gaze for a few moments. It was as if she were being asked a confusing question. The woman's lips pursed, her fingers fumbling over each other as she considered her answer. Had he been too blunt with his line of thinking?

"I mean no offence. I'm just trying to understand what I could suggest you do." Hector glanced off to the side. There wasn't much in the cave: a couple of tents and a fireplace. Their hideout wasn't exactly overflowing with things to do, but that would hopefully change in a few days.

The woman's face fell, her eyes darkening a little. Was she upset? Hector's hand hesitated at his side—should he say something?

"Honestly, I'm not sure what I can offer." Mrs. Strongmail glanced towards Pippa, who sat by the fire with Mirae. The two girls continued to mutter to each other while poking at the crackling flames with a stick. "I worked odd jobs now and then," the woman said. "Just helping out the other women in the neighbourhood. We got by on their kindness, though sadly that same kindness didn't extend to housing us."

Her eyes shifted back to Hector. A weight rested in them, one that hadn't been there just a moment ago. It was as if she'd seen the world and it had rejected her in some way, and in many ways, it had.

Guilt flooded through Hector's chest, aching down into his gut in a slow wave. Perhaps he'd been a bit too zealous, too quick to question a woman's worth when others had just told her she was worth nothing. "I'm sorry if my question was a bit out of hand," Hector said, dropping his head. "It was rude of me."

"No, no, it was a valid question," Mrs. Strongmail said. "I just feared my honesty would force you to put me and my daughter out. But as I said before, I have done a few odd jobs. So if there's anything you need doing around here, I am more than willing."

It's a wonder how she got Pippa into the dojo. Perhaps Instructor Kamble had been a bit more generous than I gave him credit for. But I should be able to find something for her to do. Pippa is training to be a mana-cultivator, so she will be more than helpful in the future once she grows stronger. With the right cultivation Talents, that shouldn't take too long.

"I appreciate the clarity, Mrs. Strongmail." Raising his hand, Hector held it out. The woman took it and gave it a firm shake. "I'm sure I can find a few odd jobs around here for you to do. And don't worry; I won't be abandoning you and your daughter anytime soon."

"Anytime soon, you say?" she replied with a light chuckle.

Hector's cheeks reddened as he scratched them. That had come out a bit more utilitarian than he'd meant for it to. As he released his grip, the sound of footsteps echoed into the cave. Mrs. Strongmail tensed, moving towards her daughter in an instant.

Hector raised his brow. Someone had come back, but who? If his guess was right, it should still be a bit early. But then again, it was hard to tell this deep underground. "Jodie," he called out. The ginger-haired girl had already ushered Harry over to the fire before heading over to the entrance herself. She glanced back at Hector. His brow scrunched. "Any idea who it is?"

"Really, Hector?" a familiar voice called from the darkness. "I thought you'd have my footsteps memorised by now."

A familiar chuckle and a groan from Jodie told Hector all he needed to know. Lincoln was back.

Hector's heart hitched in his chest. Had he succeeded? Walking over to the cavern entrance, Hector found his hand tapping on the side of his leg, unable to stop it. Had Lincoln been able to convince the dump guard? How would Hector ask? Jodie was right there, and if Jodie found out, she would not be a fan. He'd only just got her to 'slightly' come around to his necessary violence.

Stepping out into the shimmering light of the blue dome, Lincoln emerged with Marcus at his side. His blazer-wearing friend gave Hector a tight smile as the two of them stepped over, a mild look of annoyance filling out his features. What was Marcus even doing here?

Lincoln stepped forward, reaching out for a hug. Hector shrugged and embraced him. As he did, Lincoln's warm breath brushed against his ear as he whispered. "I have some news that I think you will be pleased to hear. And a little more."

The two released each other, Lincoln stepping back next to Marcus, who shook Hector's hand. "We have some news."

Hector raised a brow and glanced to his side at Jodie. The girl's eyes lingered on him. Had she heard what Lincoln had said just now? It wasn't impossible. But thankfully, Lincoln hadn't gone into too much detail. After a moment, she turned away, her gaze shifting to Marcus.

"What news?" she asked, crossing her arms. Her eyes lashed at Lincoln briefly, causing the boy to scratch at his cheek and turn to Hector.

How was he supposed to help? Sure, he'd been meaning to have a talk with the two of them. But that wasn't right now. Hector gestured for Marcus to continue; whatever news they had brought seemed to have frustrated his blazer-wearing friend. Though that didn't necessarily mean it was a bad thing.

"We've found a buyer for the Hairless Rats," Marcus said, his fingers fiddling with the edges of his blazer.

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Behind them, the fire crackled, releasing sharp pops. The sound of muttering punctuated with laughter came from Mirae and Pippa. Lincoln's eyes glanced past Hector, his eyebrow raising as a frown pulled across his lips. He probably had questions, but those questions could wait till later.

"Alright," Jodie said, her arms dropping to her sides. She turned her head towards Hector, an encouraging smile gracing her lips. He gave her a nod, and she turned back to Marcus with a look of confusion. "If you've found a buyer, why do you look so upset about it?"

"I'm sorry. Though you're right, I am a little annoyed. I'm not really upset about the buyer, more so his requirements," Marcus said, letting out a deep sigh and combing his fingers through his hair. "He wants the Hairless Rat parts by the end of today. Not only that, he just wants the hide, so we're going to have to either skin it ourselves or find a butcher to do it for us."

"The end of today?" Jodie asked, her mouth falling open. "If it were just the rat corpse, I'd say it wouldn't be too difficult for us. But to skin it, and to do that properly, who knows how many attempts and how long that would take?"

"Who was this guy?" Hector asked. Marcus's eyes shot to Lincoln. The words seemed to pause in his throat before he turned back to Hector and Jodie. "A tanner in the southern parts of Sirius Quarter. An old contact."

"And he couldn't give you a better deal, for old times' sake?" Jodie asked. She shook her head as her fingers traced up her other arm. A sigh slipped past her lips, and her blue eyes shifted to Lincoln. "Did he mess it up somehow?"

"Oh, come on, Jodie. I'm a master negotiator. I could never mess it up," Lincoln said, a coy smile playing on his lips.

Hector's eyes shifted to the stone beneath him, tracing the cracks that dotted the otherwise smooth surface. It made sense that the tanner would want just the hide. But then that raised the biggest problem.

Where are we going to find a butcher who wants to work with the meat of the Hairless Rats? It stinks when cooked, and when raw, it can smell even worse. We don't even know how to butcher and would probably ruin the thing before we're halfway through with it.

"I don't suppose you know any butchers?" Hector asked Marcus.

"My dad might."

"Hector," Jodie said, her brow raising at him. "The people that Marcus's dad knows won't be willing to work with something like a Hairless Rat."

"We won't know if we don't try," Hector replied. Marcus shrank back under Hector's questioning gaze. His fingers nervously fiddled with each other. Was he that scary?

"Jodie's right," Marcus said, seemingly plucking up some courage to look at Hector—though he still avoided eye contact. "My father tries to cultivate specific kinds of connections. I doubt any of them would be interested in the Hairless Rats."

Hector sighed. It was a shame. Sure, their meat could be tough and smell funny. But after treatment, and with the Talent he'd given Mirae, it wasn't even that bad. Hector's feet shifted slightly, his sandals scuffing on the stone. What could they do?

They had until the end of the day to get this tanner some Hairless Rat hide—intact and usable hide. They didn't know any butchers, and with their limited supply, they were going to need to spend a lot in the next few days to replenish their dwindling stock.

"Sorry," a voice came from behind. Hector glanced over his shoulder to find Mrs. Strongmail standing there. The fire crackled behind her, extending her shadow across the stone, its form twisting slightly. "I couldn't help but overhear that you need a butcher," the woman said, her voice gaining confidence as she spoke. "But as I said to you," her gaze shifted to Hector. "I did a lot of odd jobs in the neighbourhood. Cutting up and preparing dead animals was one of them."

"Um, Hector, who is this, and why is she here?" Lincoln asked.

Hector raised a hand, waving him off. "Pippa's mother. Some stuff happened. I'll explain later," he said, directing his focus back to Mrs. Strongmail. "So, would you be able to skin us a rat?" Hector took a step closer.

Mrs. Strongmail nodded.

Excitement and a wave of relief washed through Hector's chest. And she was worried about having something to do. It seemed he'd found it within a few moments of them speaking. Hector turned to Jodie. "Alright, if you get us a rat, we can start the skinning process."

"I think you should get quite a few," Marcus interjected before she could reply. He scratched the back of his head, his eyes falling back to the stone. "The tanner said that he needed a few feet of hide to work with."

Jodie crossed her arms, raising an expectant brow at Hector. "Do you really expect me to bring back quite a few on my own?"

Hector sighed, shaking his head. His eyes briefly moved to Lincoln, but he squashed the idea instantly. The two of them would probably get into a fight before they brought any rats back to them, screwing up everything. "Alright, just give me a moment, then we can head out."

"Are you not going to eat first?" Mirae said, walking towards him, Pippa trailing behind and Harry behind her.

Warmth filled Hector's heart at his sister's concern. She was also the person he needed to talk to the most before he left. He had a Talent to give her after all. "Yeah, we can all eat a little first. Though, Mirae, can I see you in our tent for a second?"

—- —- —-

Feather dojo, a rather big dojo—for the slums, anyway. The Phoenix Company fully supported it, and it showed. Even as Emela stood at the entrance of the dojo, the difference practically begged for her attention.

A few feet away, the cobblestone, lumpy and disjointed, disappeared, replaced by straight stone slabs practically gleaming in the sunlight. Students of the dojo, striding by in their red and black uniforms, held pride in their puffed-out chests as if the ground they walked on was somehow blessed.

And most striking of all was the building. Rather than a lopsided structure, aged to the point of shattering, with moss and mildew mingling in a strange unity—a common sight in the slums—it was clean with sharp straight lines and a coat of white paint that demanded you look at it as you strolled by. The thing was impossible to miss.

"How can a place like this exist in the slums?" Nyx asked, turning her head to Emela and gesturing towards a homeless man sitting across the street from the dojo.

The man sitting on the cobblestone was practically thriving, unlike the homeless further out in the slums. A small fireplace crackled a few feet from him, with an iron pot resting on a metal grate, searing something strange within. To his side, a makeshift tent of warped leather fluttered gently in the wind. His clothes, though scruffy, were in far better condition than someone like him ought to have.

Emela shrugged at Nyx, her eyes moving back to the dojo. A group of younger children hurried by, chatting loudly while gossiping about a supposed cake thief. It was strange. They seemed so carefree compared to those a few houses away. "Even the slums have their own nobles, it seems," Emela said, glancing at Nyx. "But that doesn't matter; I just hope that the Glademoore woman is actually here."