The cultivation underground occupied a network of abandoned sewers beneath the outer district's eastern quarter.
Kael descended through a concealed entrance behind a collapsed warehouse, following Mei Xing deeper into the damp tunnels. His Contract Sense painted the space in awareness—thirty-seven individuals scattered through the underground complex, most of them radiating the specific desperation of failed cultivators.
"This is where they end up," Mei Xing explained, her voice echoing off stone walls.
"Disciples expelled from sects, independent cultivators who damaged their foundations, talented mortals who awakened spiritual roots too late. The ones who tasted power but lost it."
"Failed potential," Kael observed. "Statistically valuable—they possess cultivation knowledge without the strength to be threatening. Perfect information sources."
"You really see everything as resources, don't you?"
"Everything is resources. People, knowledge, time, memory. The only question is allocation efficiency." Kael's marked hand pulsed as they passed through a larger chamber where several cultivators huddled around a makeshift alchemy station.
"These three—the woman with the scarred hands, the old man coughing blood, the young one missing an arm. I want detailed assessments on each."
Mei Xing had done her research. "Lin Hua, formerly Azure Sky Sect inner disciple.
Damaged her meridians attempting to break through to Foundation Establishment five years ago. Now she can't cultivate past Qi Condensation eighth layer, but she knows alchemy theory at an expert level. Desperate for spirit stones to buy pain-killing medicines."
"Alchemy knowledge has high value. Continue."
"Gao Chen, the old one. Was an independent cultivator, reached Foundation Establishment second stage before his cultivation base degraded from age. He's dying—maybe six months left. But he knows cultivation theory spanning forty years and three different systems. He wants to record his knowledge before death, create a legacy."
"Legacy motivation. Exploitable." Kael studied the third candidate. "And the young one?"
"Zhou Tian. Lost his arm in a spirit beast encounter. Physical disability prevents most cultivation arts, and he lacks resources for a spirit-grafted replacement. He wants revenge against the people who abandoned him during the beast attack, but lacks power to achieve it."
Kael's mind processed the information, structuring potential contracts. Each candidate had different needs, different leverage points, different optimal binding structures.
"Introduce me to Lin Hua first. Alchemy knowledge is immediate priority."
Lin Hua looked up as they approached, her scarred hands instinctively covering the half-completed pill she was forming. Her Contract Sense signature showed layers of pain—physical damage compounded by psychological trauma of lost potential.
"Mei Xing," Lin Hua said cautiously. "You bring strangers to my station?"
"Not a stranger. A contractor." Mei Xing gestured to Kael. "He offers solutions to problems people think are unsolvable."
"My problems aren't solvable. Meridian damage at this level is permanent." Lin Hua's voice carried bitter acceptance. "Unless you've got a Phoenix Renewal Pill hidden somewhere, there's nothing—"
"I can't restore your cultivation completely," Kael interrupted. "But I can stabilize the damage, eliminate the pain, and restore enough meridian function for you to practice alchemy without constant agony. Not full healing—call it sixty percent restoration."
Lin Hua's hands stilled. "That's... that's impossible. Even sect elders can't—"
"I don't use conventional healing methods." Kael extended his marked hand, letting her see the black chains. "I use contracts. Binding agreements enforced by forces beyond normal cultivation. The restoration is real, permanent, and immediate."
"What do you want in return?"
"Your alchemy knowledge. Specifically, I want you to teach three disciples I designate, provide consultation on pill formulation when requested, and create specific pills for my operations. Duration: eight years."
"Eight years is a long time."
"Sixty percent meridian restoration is significant value. The contract length reflects the exchange rate." Kael pulled out a written agreement. "Terms are detailed here. You retain independence—this isn't slavery. You work for me on alchemy matters, but your personal life remains yours. After eight years, the contract expires and you owe me nothing further."
Lin Hua read slowly, her damaged hands shaking slightly. Kael's Contract Sense tracked her emotional state—hope warring with suspicion, desperation fighting caution.
"The pain really goes away?" she asked quietly.
"Immediately. The moment the contract seals, healing begins."
"I accept." The words came out rushed, before she could second-guess them.
The binding formed, and Kael paid the price. This time he lost ages sixteen and seventeen—critical years, the time period when he'd first started working for the sect, when he'd learned administrative skills that had defined his survival strategies.
Gone. Just empty space where formative experiences used to be.
But Lin Hua gasped as the healing energy flowed through her meridians. The scarred tissue on her hands began smoothing, the twisted internal channels straightening.
Not complete restoration—Kael had been honest about that—but enough to function without constant pain.
"It's real," she whispered, tears tracking down her face. "After five years of agony, it's actually gone."
"Contract fulfillment." Kael was already turning toward Gao Chen. "I'll send detailed instructions tomorrow. For now, document any alchemy knowledge you haven't written down. Everything has value."
He left Lin Hua examining her hands with wonder and horror, bound to him for eight years by chains she couldn't see but absolutely couldn't break.
Gao Chen required different leverage.
The old cultivator sat against the tunnel wall, blood-flecked handkerchief pressed to his mouth. His Contract Sense signature was fading—cultivation base collapsing inward, life force burning out.
"I don't need healing," Gao Chen said before Kael could speak. "I'm dying. Six months, maybe less. Too far gone for even your supernatural contracts to fix."
"I know." Kael sat beside him, not bothering with social niceties. "I'm not offering life extension. I'm offering legacy preservation."
The old man's eyes sharpened. "Continue."
"You possess forty years of cultivation knowledge spanning three different systems. You want to record it before death but lack resources—writing materials, organization assistance, verification of accuracy. I can provide all three." Kael's tone remained clinical. "In exchange, I want exclusive rights to that knowledge. You record everything, I ensure it's preserved and used, your legacy continues after your death."
"You want to own my life's work."
"I want to ensure it has impact beyond your death. Currently, it dies with you in six months and benefits no one. Under contract, it becomes foundation for future cultivation development." Kael met the old man's eyes. "Your choice: die knowing your knowledge disappears, or die knowing it shapes the next generation. The contract term ends at your death—I'm not binding your corpse or demanding posthumous service."
Gao Chen laughed, which turned into coughing. "You're either the most honest man I've ever met or the most ruthlessly manipulative. I can't tell which."
"Both. Honesty is my most effective manipulation tool." Kael produced the contract documents. "You have ten minutes to decide. My time is limited."
The old man read carefully, then nodded. "Acceptable. At least something survives me."
This contract cost Kael differently—not memories, but something more subtle. The capacity for long-term planning beyond immediate survival. The ability to envision futures he might want rather than calculating futures he might survive.
Another piece of humanity traded away.
Gao Chen felt nothing except relief. The contract didn't heal him—it wasn't designed to—but it gave his approaching death meaning beyond simple cessation.
"I'll begin recording tomorrow," Gao Chen said. "Everything. Theory, techniques, mistakes I've made, insights I've gained. It'll take the full six months."
"Acceptable. I'll provide writing materials and an assistant to help organize the information." Kael stood, moving toward Zhou Tian. "Your legacy is secured."
Zhou Tian was different from the others.
The young cultivator—barely twenty—radiated anger rather than desperation. His Contract Sense signature was sharp, aggressive, the psychological profile of someone who'd turned pain into fury.
"You want revenge," Kael said bluntly. "Against the people who abandoned you to the spirit beast."
Zhou Tian's remaining hand clenched. "What if I do?"
"Revenge requires power you don't possess. Your cultivation is crippled by physical disability, you lack resources for proper spirit-grafting, and your targets are likely higher-sequence disciples with sect protection." Kael's analysis was merciless. "Your revenge is impossible through conventional means."
"So you're here to tell me to give up?"
"No. I'm here to offer contract enforcement of revenge." Kael's marked hand pulsed with dark light. "I can bind your targets through contracts that create consequences for their past actions. Not immediate death—that's inefficient and attracts investigation. But systematic destruction of everything they value. Reputation, cultivation resources, sect standing, personal relationships. Methodical dismantling disguised as natural consequences."
Zhou Tian stared. "You can do that?"
"I can create contracts that make reality enforce karmic balance. They abandoned you? Fine. I structure bindings that ensure everyone they rely on will eventually abandon them. They valued their cultivation progress? I arrange circumstances that systematically block their advancement." Kael's voice remained flat, clinical. "Perfect revenge isn't quick death. It's forcing them to experience exactly what they inflicted on you."
"What do you want in return?"
"Ten years of service as information gatherer and enforcer. You move through cultivation underground, identify potential contract targets, occasionally handle situations requiring violence. You retain independence otherwise—this isn't slavery, it's employment with supernatural enforcement."
"Ten years for revenge."
"Ten years for guaranteed revenge. Without my contracts, your revenge is fantasy. With them, it's mathematical certainty." Kael offered the written terms. "Your choice."
Zhou Tian didn't hesitate. "I accept."
The binding formed, and Kael felt the cost immediately—this contract demanded something specific. The memory of his sister's smile. Not just the visual, but the emotional resonance of it, the way it had made him feel when she was happy.
Gone. He knew intellectually she'd smiled, but the feeling attached to that smile had been erased.
"It's done," Kael said, standing. "I'll provide target identification within three days. Your revenge begins systematically, not impulsively. Understood?"
Zhou Tian nodded, touching his chest where the contract marks had settled. "I can feel it. The binding. It's... certain. Like gravity."
"Contract absolutism. Reality enforces agreements I create." Kael turned to leave, his work here complete. "Mei Xing will coordinate your initial assignments."
He ascended from the underground with three new contracts sealed, his advancement toward Sequence 7 accelerating rapidly.
Behind him, three failed cultivators examined their new bindings, unsure whether they'd been saved or enslaved, whether the stranger with empty eyes was savior or demon.
The answer, Kael knew, was neither.
He was simply a calculator optimizing for survival.
And they were variables in his equation.
"Sequence 8 progression: ninety-four percent," the Pathway whispered. "Six more contracts. Then the transformation accelerates."
Kael emerged into the evening air, his marked hand blazing with absorbed power, his mind racing with calculations.
Twenty-one contracts remaining.
Three days until the hunters arrived.
The acceleration couldn't stop now.
Even if there was almost nothing left of the person who'd started this journey.
The mathematics demanded completion.
And Kael Yuan had become a creature of pure mathematics.