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40% Lone Cultivator in Another World / Chapter 42: Project Indigo

Chapitre 42: Project Indigo

There were two new symbols in the Mind tab, and one of the previously dimmed abilities was glowing white too.

"This time, we'll check Disorders first. Since I have around 5000 points, let's splurge again."

'Spinal curvature, multiple allergies, flat feet… Imperfect bone structure?'

What worried Michael, was that none of the disorders were highlighted in white.

"Imperfect eyesight – this should be easy. Glory, how much?"

"Cost: 8000 glory points."

"Hell, enhancing it to twice the human norm costs only 60! Why is it so expensive?"

"Host, abilities in Mind tab affect the brain. Health disorders are physical problems. Affecting body requires more glory points."

"I shudder to imagine how expensive the 2-stage abilities will be."

Disappointed, the cultivator turned his attention to the perks he could afford. The Enhanced Sense of Balance transformed into Enhanced Hand-eye Coordination, and Michael spent the 100 points on it like a true millionaire, with a lazy flick of his fingers.

Two new abilities were called Control over Emotions and Pain Tolerance.

[Control over Emotions. Advanced mental technique. Allows one to regulate own facial expressions and state of mind. Cost: 120 glory points.]

[Pain Tolerance. Top mental technique. Allows one to endure increasing amounts of pain. Cost: 60 glory points.]

With thousands of energetical currency on his hands, Michael continued to buy. He strengthened his eyesight for cheap and paired it with smell and taste. The upgrades were a measly 15 points, and he only needed 180 for everything. At some point in the past, he couldn't afford more than one or two and now so many of them were chump change. Then, he kept on going.

Mind Acceleration – 10 upgrades, maxed!

Creative thinking – 8 upgrades, maxed!

Analytical thinking – 10 upgrades, maxed!

Active Memory Enhancement – 9 upgrades, maxed!

Passive Memory Enhancement – 9 upgrades, maxed!

Suddenly, when Michael still had over 3000 points left, two new abilities appeared. Perfect Visual Memory and Perfect Auditory Memory stared at him from the shop's window. Both were costly, a thousand points each.

Instead of going broke, he first purchased Control over Emotions and Pain Tolerance. When the latter turned out to be upgradable, he wasn't surprised. Abilities that seemed cheap at first glance were always like that.

He clicked on Pain Tolerance again with his mind. Click. Click. After buying ten of them, he frowned. It wasn't the limit?

Click. Click. Click.

'Fifteen and there's more? Tsk, this daddy hasn't displayed his prowess in a while. Let's go, until the end!'

Michael spent half of what remained on 25 Pain Tolerance upgrades when the damn thing finally dimmed down. He still wanted to keep some points just in case, so he refrained from wasting any more.

To his bewilderment, his newly strengthened memory didn't help him remember anything from his previous life in any great detail. It seemed to only work on what he learned after buying the ability.

Now, Michael collected almost every power-up Glory had to offer at his level. That was a satisfying thought.

It was time to return to his parents, book plane tickets and have a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, he would try cultivating with maxed out Pain Tolerance. That should help deal with the imaginary hot water handsomely.

After a short knock on the door, a middle-aged man with an average appearance let himself in. He was one of those types easily lost in the crowd, nothing about him seemed distinct or eye-catching. Before his current desk job, he served his country as a spy, that much was obvious.

"Sir?" he asked his superior in Russian.

"Come in. What do you have for me?" inquired a pudgy man sitting behind a table.

"You wanted to be briefed whenever we get something significant on project Indigo."

"Huh!? We got another one?" the pudgy man rose in his seat.

"Unfortunately, he slipped from our hands. But we're confident no one knows about his uniqueness other than us."

"I see. Start from the beginning."

The ex-spy approached his superior's desk. They made for a stark contrast. One was in great shape that didn't deteriorate with age. The ex-spy used to be a KGB agent back when the agency existed. Now, it was called FSB, Federal Security Service, and he retired from the field to assume a head analyst position.

On the other hand, the owner of the room had always been a politician rather than a military officer. However, his shrewdness and tact ensured him enough promotions to hold a higher post in FSB than his visitor. With close to no regular exercise and a sedentary lifestyle, he let himself go. His fat cheeks slightly jiggled when he spoke fast.

The ex-spy produced a tablet where he opened a few photos.

"Mikhail Severniy. Prefers the name Michael North. Born 1994, now 14 years old. Dark hair, greenish-blue eyes. According to his school doctor, has slight heterochromia, his eyes are not identical in color. That may no longer be true. Son of Vladimir and Nadezhda Severniy, small business owners."

"Get to the point," the higher-ranked officer nudged.

"This year, he went to Switzerland to study at EIS. Remember the school the president encouraged our western allies to fund?"

"Ah, yes. President Myshkin's brainchild. My own son isn't good enough, can you imagine?"

"He was there when the comet appeared," the ex-spy ignored the rant, "and was mysteriously hurt: hematomas, broken bones, torn organs…"

"Is he religious?" the pudgy man interrupted, gears turning in his head. "I don't want to deal with a boy who believes he's been blessed and has the stigmata to prove it."

"The sources differ, sir. If you don't mind?"

The sitting officer nodded bitterly. His visitor respected only spies and military men. While his own position was higher, he had no control over the head analyst. Perhaps the fact he prepared this report was already an olive branch, a sign of his willingness to work together. There was no need to push him.

"As I was saying," the ex-spy found slight pleasure in making his superior wince at his impolite manner, "Michael was hurt for no apparent reason. Then, four days later, he regains consciousness and in two more days looks completely healed. Six days to come back from the brink of death."

"Impressive. Project Indigo material indeed."

"Right away, came back to Russia to see his father who was dying of cancer. As you know, genetic diseases have been behaving unstably since the comet. Michael spent a month near his father's bed where he's been discovered by local news."

"This is our source?" the pudgy man realized.

"Yes. One of my analysts got the idea to scan local news reports in hopes they would report on such things. The report is about a praying boy, but Michael's old classmates and his family's friends, who we've interviewed on the down low, deny his religiousness. Two days after, Vladimir Severniy wakes up, his tumor gone, and the family returns to EIS where our jurisdiction is severely limited by Graves."

"Right. Who thought of making that old fart the principal?"

"Old or not," the head analyst's tone betrayed his disdain, "he continues to be one of the best agents in the world."

"That's the problem, isn't it? President Myshkin purposely built EIS in Switzerland, outside of the European Union's laws. But Graves's appointment ruins our efforts to secure a backdoor to the school!"

"Regardless, we've caught on too late. After my analyst saw the news and connected it to the boy's previous miraculous recovery, the Severniys were already on a plane to Europe. Now, we have reason to believe Michael not only presents superpowers but can also control them, apparently better in his own body than the others. It took him six days to heal injuries more concerning than his father's, who he used a month to cure."

"That's right. He has control," wondered the fat man.

On his subordinate's tablet, an edited video was playing. It showed a young man walking down the street in a crowd and catching fire the next moment. Before that, the camera had been focused on a street performance, but then it captured the burning man in detail. He died in less than a minute.

The scenery changed to a small town, its streets empty. This time, it was black and white, like from a security camera. A girl in her twenties approached an ATM, but the moment she took a step with one foot, her body suddenly disappeared. Seven seconds later, she fell from the sky in a gruesome display of gore.

"Our two previous subjects, Burning Man and Jumper. As you can see, both had no power over their awakening abilities, and in both cases this signified their deaths. Unlike them, Michael North not only hasn't hurt himself, but seems to have cured his father's cancer."

"Cured cancer," the pudgy man repeated, still unable to look away from the young woman's body on the video. He cleared his throat and gave out instructions.

"Observe. Don't contact him, don't even let him know we exist. If we touch him, there will certainly be an international incident, and our heads will fly. One boy isn't worth it. If shit hits the fan, sure, kidnap his parents, take his girlfriend hostage, promise him a hundred virgins, I don't care. But until then – nothing."

"If I may, sir. One of the teachers is a corrupt Soviet professor. We can use him to gather information. He might not be the perfect asset, but he knows what's good for him."

"Great. Contact this professor, persuade him to serve the country's interests for once. We'll activate him when necessary. Until then, let's give the boy codename Healer and allow him to grow. Maybe he'll stick out once again, and we'll take him hot."

...

Author's note (too big to put it in the footnotes)

This is for those readers who are unhappy with how Michael treats Anna. When I began this novel, he was supposed to be this anime-like protagonist, clueless when it came to love. But over the course of 40+ chapters, I've created a character who cannot be ignorant like that because his mind and determination are his greatest weapons.

I see now where I went wrong, and this is all thanks to you, dear readers and commenters. This here is proof that your comments help me write a better novel.

As for Michael and Anna, time to set the record straight, in the two following chapters.

.


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