The obsidian-black walls of the town were even more intimidating up close than they had been from the ridge. They rose thirty feet high, made of a seamless, glassy stone that seemed to drink the sunlight. A large, ancient stone plaque hung above the central archway, the characters for Hei Qiang Town carved into it with sharp, aggressive strokes.
Embedded into the polished surface of the walls, faint white runes pulsed with a slow, hypnotic rhythm, humming with a frequency that Su Lantian could feel in his teeth. It wasn't just a wall; it was a stabilized force field, a high-frequency barrier designed to keep the wilderness out and the order in.
He joined the queue leading to the main gate, a processional path made of crushed river stone. He moved with practiced ease, his hiker's instinct kicking in, but his internal focus was entirely on the people around him. The line was a bizarre spectrum of humanity. He saw merchants in rich, embroidered silk leading caravans of scaled, ox-like beasts; mercenaries with jagged scars and heavy iron swords; and simple mortals in hemp robes carrying bundles of firewood.
But as he stepped into line, the low murmur of conversation seemed to hit a snag. All eyes turned to him. It wasn't the kind of curious gaze he was used to on a busy subway back home. It was a look of profound, unsettled confusion. He saw women pull their children closer, and merchants pause mid-transaction to stare. He knew he was a mess—his breath still smelled of old copper from the internal injuries, his cheek was raw, and his right arm was stiff—but that wasn't it. The people in this world clearly saw violence and injury on a daily basis.
The weirdness was his attire. In a world of robes, tunics, and scaled armor, he was wearing a bright blue nylon hiking jacket (now torn and stained), tactical hiking pants with fifteen pockets, and sturdy leather boots with advanced ankle support. To the locals, he didn't look injured; he looked like a demonic jester, or perhaps a spy from a kingdom so distant they hadn't even heard of it.
"A fascinating choice of armor, young friend."
The voice was raspy, like dry leaves skittering over pavement. Su Lantian snapped his head to the right. An old man had drifted out of the queue and was standing just a few feet away, leaning heavily on a gnarled staff made of polished black wood. He was short, his spine slightly curved, and his beard was a cascade of silvers and grays that reached his belt. He wore simple, high-quality robes of deep forest green, and a pair of spectacles—a rarity here, Su noted—with smoky quartz lenses.
More importantly, Su felt it. The air around the old man was... different. It felt heavy, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. This is a real cultivator, Su thought, his heart rate spiking.
"It's... functional," Su managed, his voice sounding like sandpaper. He bowed, trying to mimic the respect he'd read about. "This junior is named Lantian."
The old man pushed his quartz spectacles up the bridge of his nose, his eyes—surprisingly bright and sharp behind the lenses—crinkling as he inspected Su's torn nylon jacket. "Functional. Yes. I can see the... advanced stitching. And the material... I have never seen a weave so tightly packed, yet so incredibly thin. Is it spirit-silk? No, it lacks the aura. But the resilience to hold together after such an obviously violent fall is notable."
Su's mind raced. He had to spin a story, but he couldn't lie about the logic. "It's... a composite material. Designed for... dynamic movement." He used a tech-marketing term, hoping it would sound like cultivator jargon.
The old man paused, testing the words. "Dynamic movement. Interesting phrasing. Most 'composite materials' in this region are made of monster bone and sap. Your people seem to have prioritized... weight distribution." He nodded, apparently pleased. "I am called Elder Chen. I appreciate a mind that values function over tradition. Many young cultivators are so obsessed with gilded armor they forget that the greatest defense is often agile logic."
Elder Chen gestured with his staff, guiding Su back into the now-moving queue. The people immediately parted, their curious gazes shifting from fear to respectful silence now that Su was associated with a high-ranking Elder.
"The weather in the southern peaks has been quite erratic lately," Elder Chen remarked casually, looking up at the sky. "I hope your journey wasn't too dampened by the sudden mists."
Su caught the cue for small talk. "The mists were thick, Senior, but the terrain was manageable. It's the sudden changes in elevation that truly test one's gear."
"Indeed," Chen chuckled. "The mountains have a way of humbling the arrogant and rewarding the prepared. Hei Qiang is a bit more... rigid, but it has its charms for those looking to replenish their supplies."
They reached the front of the line, which had split into two distinct paths. One for mortals, and a much shorter, more imposing one for those with Qi. The entrance for cultivators was a massive archway of polished obsidian, guarded by four men wearing chainmail over grey tunics. These weren't mortals; Su felt the Qi humming within them, perhaps First or Second Layer of Qi Condensation—stronger than him, but not significantly so. Their job was intimidation, not defense.
One of the guards, a man with a scarred jaw, stepped forward. He ignored Elder Chen—clearly recognizing the green robes—and focused his dull, suspicious gaze on Su. "Entrance fee for the Cultivator Gate. One spirit stone."
Su froze. His analytical mind stalled. He only had 127 Spirit Stones in his ring, but the ring was hidden in a pocket inside his jacket. To retrieve one, he would have to reach into his clothes and essentially broadcast to everyone in the queue that he was carrying a spatial storage device and a stash of stones. He was a First Layer novice in alien clothes; he might as well be wearing a "Rob Me" sign. He hesitated, his hand hovering near his chest.
"I... I don't have the exact change on my person," Su stammered, his heart hammering. "Can I pay in silver?" but wait...he remembers he doesn't even have silver coins.
"Spirit Gate requires spirit stones. No stone, no entry," the guard snapped, his hand shifting to the hilt of his short sword. "Move aside, kid. You're blocking the path for real cultivators."
Su felt the eyes of the entire line drilling into him. The "weirdness" was about to become "vagrant."
"A moment, Captain." Elder Chen's dry, raspy voice cut through the tension. He stepped beside Su, his staff tapping lightly on the obsidian pavement. "This young man is traveling with me. I am sponsoring his entry today." He reached into a leather pouch at his belt and produced a small, glowing crystal—a spirit stone—and tossed it carelessly to the guard. "For the boy. And my usual token for myself." He handed over a small jade medallion.
The guard's suspicion instantly turned to a forced, toothy smile. "Of course, Elder Chen. My apologies. I didn't realize he was your... associate." He accepted the stone with a greasy nod and stepped aside, bowing them through.
Su's cheeks burned with a mix of shame and gratitude. As they walked through the tunnel of the obsidian wall, the white runes pulsing above their heads, he turned to the Elder. "Thank you, Senior Chen. I will find a way to repay this. I... I didn't realize the fee would be a stone."
"A simple oversight," Elder Chen shrugged, stepping out of the tunnel and into the street. "In this world, the greatest challenge isn't the monster you can see, but the mundane protocols you ignore. Never assume the gate is open until you've checked the toll." He paused, a wry smile touching his lips. "I must attend to my store now. Stay safe, Lantian. And perhaps... find some clothes that don't scream so loudly."
With a final tap of his staff, Elder Chen dissolved into the crowd. Su Lantian stood on the street, taking a moment to breathe. The town was... different. It wasn't the high-tech metropolis he'd feared, but it wasn't a primitive village either.
Hei Qiang Town was a place of stark contrasts. The streets were paved with a mosaic of colored river stones, and while many buildings were traditional wood and thatch, several large clinics and guild halls were built from heavy obsidian and white jade, standing as tall, imposing landmarks. In the sky, several mid-to-late stage Qi cultivators soared by on flying swords, their trails of Qi leaving shimmering wakes. On the ground, domesticated demon beasts—large, feathered lizards and six-legged oxen—pulled carts through the crowded market.
He compared it to the cramped, vertical cities of Earth, packed with glass and steel. This was cleaner, larger, and hummed with a different kind of power. Back home, you built high to escape the ground. Here, you built high to reach the Qi.
"I have really come to the world of Myriad," Su whispered.
"You look new here, Senior."
Su turned his head calmly. A kid was standing just a few feet away, leaning against a stack of crates. He looked to be about twelve, wearing a tunic of patched, durable hemp that was surprisingly clean. He had dark, sharp eyes and a confident, almost precocious grin. Su focused, but couldn't feel any Qi.
"I am," Su said simply. "Does it show?"
"Figured. Only new folks stare at the flying swords for that long without blinking," the kid said, walking closer with an exaggerated swagger. "I'm Xiao Hu. If you need to know where to go, I'm the best guide in this district. Local knowledge, Senior. I know which blacksmith will overcharge you for a blunt sword, and I know which noodle stall won't give you the runs."
Su inspected the kid. He was charming in a street-smart kind of way. A localized mapping and data-processing unit, Su realized. "What's your fee, Xiao Hu?"
"Two silver pieces per hour, or five for the whole afternoon. Local protocols," Xiao Hu said, his grin widening. He didn't seem intimidated by Su's strange attire. "I can get you anywhere faster, and I won't lead you into an alley to get shanked."
"My name is Su Lantian. I'll take the afternoon," Su said. "I need local information."
"Excellent!" Xiao Hu bowed, then immediately started walking, his tongue moving as fast as his feet. "Listen close, Senior Su. Hei Qiang is a grid of power. To the East is the Residential Area—lots of quiet courtyards, but boring if you aren't sleeping. To the West is the Administration District; that's where the Town Lord's office and the main Guard Barracks are. Don't cause trouble there unless you want to see the inside of an obsidian cell."
He pointed toward the bustling center and the sprawling lanes to the South. "The South is the Commerce District—the Marketplace. That's where we're headed. It's got everything from spirit rice to high-grade elixirs. And the North? That's the high-end zone. Sect embassies, luxury manors, and the Jade Spire. We don't go there unless your pockets are bursting with Spirit Stones."
Su ignored the jab at his potential poverty. "First, I need a change of clothes. I'm receiving too many 'weird and curious' gazes. Find me a tailor who sells durable, low-profile cultivator robes. Nothing flashy. Black, gray, or forest green."
"Durable, low-profile. Done. The Iron Thread Tailory. Old Man Feng doesn't talk, which is good for you," Xiao Hu nodded. "And after that?"
"A currency exchange," Su said, the Black Cube in his Dantian pulsing as he categorized his needs. "I have spirit stones, but I don't have silver coins to pay you yet." Su Lantian says as he discreetly takes 3 spirit stones from the ring into his pocket.
"The Spirit Exchange," Xiao Hu said, his sharp eyes narrowing as if trying to calculate Su's worth. "Necessary, but be careful. Your clothes really make you look like a weirdo, the sooner you look like a local, the sooner people will stop wondering if you fell out of the sky."
As they began to navigate the complex streets, Su Lantian realized that his true cultivation hadn't just begun with Qi. It had begun with this—learning the system of the Myriad, one protocol at a time.