Death Cultivator 2 by eden Hudson (books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📗

This scientist guy kept her around for months, studying her and the other specimens he’d collected, one at a time emptying the bottles when the things inside died. Then one day, when the only still-living specimen he had left was in the Lost Mirror flask, he got on a bullet train. A mantid with a crazily cocked hat got on after him. The mantid killed the scientist guy and stuffed his body out a window. Then a skinny teenager with Death Spirit defeated the mantid, took Sushi’s flask, and let it slide off the train table and shatter. She was free.

The image cut out, and Sushi dropped to the floor. I picked the fish up and set her on the bed, out of Warcry’s reach. She lay there, huffing and puffing.

“Convenient story,” Warcry muttered. “Little too convenient, yeah?”

I threw up my hands. “What more do you want from her? She told us what happened.”

“She told us something,” he said. “There ain’t no proof that’s what happened.”

Three polite knocks cut off our argument. Someone was at the door.

Sushi gasped and wriggled under Warcry’s stump pillow.

My HUD went off. It was a message from Kest.

What did you guys do?!

The back of my neck prickled like the short hairs there wanted to stand up straight.

Whoever was at the door knocked again. Sharp, like this was our last warning.

I looked from Warcry to Rali, then went and opened it.

Biggerstaff stood there in one of his tailored suits, a group of hooligans-in-training backing him up. Yoki the Stone Spirit Jackal and both Ratas were there, along with a muscly shark lady and a yellow-skinned alien.

The catfish shook his wide head. “I thought I made it clear that you boys were not, under any circumstances, to get caught.”

To the Slaughter

ALL THE BRUISERS EXPLODED into motion at the same time, barreling into my room. Instinctively, I threw out Dead Reckoning and blasted Miasma to my arms, covering them in Death Metal. The yellow dude and shark lady came at me, and for a second, it looked like Yoki would, too. Then the jackal dropped his eyes and breezed past while I shield-bashed the yellow dude back.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Warcry launch himself up off the bed at Yoki, using the walking stick like a pole vaulter. Rali hit the ginger with a Spirit boost as he passed, making Warcry’s flames burn even brighter, then reached out to do the same to me.

Before Rali’s tag landed, Biggerstaff swooped open his wide catfish mouth, red gill rakers flashing.

Death Metal and Dead Reckoning disappeared instantly, and Warcry’s flames snuffed out all at once without a flash or stutter. When I tried to reach for more Miasma, my Spirit sea clamped down tight, like a fist was squeezing it closed. I still had Hungry Ghost clenched in my hand, but I couldn’t pull Miasma through the catfish’s Spirit blockage.

I threw elbows and kicks, but without my Ki-strength or speed, they were basically useless. The yellow dude and shark lady tackled me. A pipe to the side of the head made sparks flash behind my eyes. When I could see again, one of the Rata twins was sitting on my back to hold me down. Cold stone shackles cinched my wrists together like handcuffs, Hungry Ghost locked uselessly between them.

With a burst of Stone Spirit, the decorative stone armlets flew off Yoki’s massive roid-rager arms and slammed into Warcry. The ginger hopped, trying to keep his balance. The stone zipped around behind him, locking his wrists down like mine. Before he could fall over, Yoki grabbed him and shoved him to the floor beside me.

Rali, however, had not gone down. He and Biggerstaff were glaring into each other’s eyes like the championship match of a staring contest.

Biggerstaff’s gills flashed again, doing that predatory vacuum-feeder thing. Sweat ran down the sides of his flat head and dripped onto the shoulders of his suit. Rali grinned, orange Warm Heart Spirit flickering under his skin. It swelled and receded, but it never completely went out.

After a few seconds, Biggerstaff let out a strained catfish-laugh.

“I knew you were the best investment in this clique.” Without looking away, he snapped his fingers at the shark lady. “Kill his friends if he doesn’t drop his defense immediately.”

A Spirit naginata appeared in the shark lady’s hands. She pointed the blade at Warcry’s throat and reared back.

“Wait!” Rali held his hands out to Biggerstaff and clasped the left over the right, like a kung fu monk’s salute. The orangey glow of Warm Heart Spirit disappeared from his skin. “I respectfully resign from this duel.”

“Good decision.” Biggerstaff took one more gulp of air, probably doing to Rali what he’d done to me and Warcry. “Round him up.”

Yoki put those stone shackles on Rali, too, then the bruisers jerked Warcry and me to our feet and shoved us out into the hall. Without the walking stick or his prosthetic, the Ratas had to stand on either side of Warcry to help him walk.

Biggerstaff led the way to the elevators.

“I know you gentlemen can’t see it now,” he said as we walked, “but this is for your own good. You screwed up, Death cultivator, left survivors who could run and tell their much stronger bosses. There are consequences to that sort of failure.” He thumbed the Down button, then turned back to smile at us. “But if any of you survive those consequences... Let’s just say you’re going to be very, very well rewarded.”

“You telling us to fight back?” Warcry growled.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The bruisers hustled us inside, crushing us against the walls to make room for Biggerstaff.

“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Biggerstaff said, hitting the button for the market court level. “I’m not responsible for your actions. I wasn’t responsible for you raiding the Contrails’ Bogland location. I made it very clear that you were operating entirely on your own at the time, and yet somehow this still came