Cultivators Don't Do Free Trials

The cool evening breeze, usually a welcome relief after a day of system-allocating, felt suddenly crisp with an unfamiliar tension.

Borin's enthusiastic plan for Oakhaven's Clash-Ball victory was still buzzing in the air, a delightful challenge I was eager to tackle. We were brainstorming potential 'kickers' when a sound, like ripping silk amplified a thousand times, tore through the twilight.

It wasn't a natural sound. It was sharp, unnatural, and it seemed to come from above.

"What in the Ancestors' beards was that?"

Borin muttered, his hand instinctively going to the axe strapped to his back. Elara, beside us, went pale, her kind eyes wide with fear.

The joyous chatter of the villagers instantly died down, replaced by a chilling silence.

Then, through the last vestiges of twilight, they descended. Not from the ground, not from the trees, but from the sky itself.

Three figures, cloaked in dark, flowing robes that whipped around them like storm clouds. They moved with an unsettling grace, landing silently in the village square like predatory birds.

One, a woman with eyes like chips of ice, seemed to distort the air around her as she moved, a faint shimmer preceding her steps.

Another, a burly man, had fists that glowed with a faint, angry red, and the ground cracked lightly beneath his heavy boots.

The third, slender and seemingly less imposing, had an almost ethereal glow about him, and sparks danced at his fingertips. Cultivators. And strong ones, judging by the palpable aura of power they exuded.

Panic erupted. Villagers screamed, scattering like startled birds, abandoning their dinners and children's games.

Borin roared, stepping forward defensively, axe ready. "Who are you? State your purpose!"

The woman with ice-chip eyes merely raised a hand.

Without a word, a gust of wind, sharp as a blade, slammed into Borin, sending him skidding backward, his axe clattering to the ground.

He landed hard, groaning, but quickly pushed himself up, still defiant.

The burly man with glowing fists stomped, and a fissure opened in the earth near a villager's hut, causing it to shake.

The slender one with sparks calmly pointed a finger, and a small, precise bolt of lightning singed the leaves of a nearby tree.

They weren't here for a friendly chat. This was a raid. And my wonderful, burgeoning systems empire felt suddenly very, very fragile.

My mind, despite the fear, immediately flashed to my Systems Trader dashboard.

Points: 130.

Could I… could I sell them something? A 'Get-Out-Of-Here-Please System'? Probably not.

But maybe something to help Oakhaven fight back?

"Hold it!" I shouted, stepping forward, much to Elara's horrified gasp.

The three cultivators turned their cold gazes on me. I tried to look confident, despite my knees feeling like jelly.

"There's no need for all this destruction! Perhaps we can come to an understanding?"

The ice-eyed woman raised a delicate eyebrow.

"And who might you be, little speck? Another one of these primitive village's bards?"

"I'm Alex," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "And I'm a Systems Trader. I provide unique abilities, meta-enhancements, to people.

Perhaps… perhaps I have something that could be of interest to you?"

The burly man with red fists scoffed. "Abilities? Boy, we are abilities. Do you think your trinkets can compare to true cultivation?"

He took a step towards me, a menacing glow radiating from his hands.

"Wait, Urg," the slender, sparking cultivator interjected, his voice surprisingly calm, almost intrigued. "He speaks of 'systems.' There are whispers of such things, minor artifacts that grant unusual talents.

Let him speak. It could be entertaining."

The ice-eyed woman, apparently the leader, gave a curt nod. "Speak, then, Alex. Amuse us."

I took a deep breath. Okay, this was a tough crowd. "Well," I began, trying to sound authoritative, "my systems aren't just 'trinkets.' They're tailored enhancements.

For example, your friend there," I gestured to the burly man, "he seems to have a talent for… earthy destruction.

Perhaps a [Geo-Quake System] would enhance that? It could cause localized earthquakes, rupture the ground, even shift small landmasses."

I mentally projected the system's description, even though I didn't have it. I just wanted to show them the concept.

The burly man, Urg, stared at me, his eyes widening. "Geo-Quake? I… I just felt a surge in my mind. You mean… I could shake the very ground?" His red fists glowed brighter.

The slender, sparking one looked genuinely interested. "And for a lightning cultivator, like myself? What 'system' would you offer?"

"For you," I said, my mind racing, "the [Storm Weaver System]."

I imagined it, hoping they'd pick up on the mental projection. "It allows for precise control over atmospheric electricity, conjuring lightning strikes, even manipulating localized weather patterns for devastating effect."

The ice-eyed woman narrowed her gaze, a flicker of something beyond dismissiveness in her eyes. "You speak with knowledge that is… unusual. These 'systems,' how do you acquire them?"

"That," I said, trying to sound mysterious, "is my secret. But I can share them. For a price, of course." I gave them my most charming (and slightly desperate) salesman smile.

Urg laughed, a harsh, guttural sound. "A price? You think we pay for powers? We take what we want!" He lunged forward, not at me, but at my belt pouch, where the copper coins from Borin and my small collection of shiny pebbles from Ren were stored.

He ripped it off, spilling the coins and stones onto the ground. "These are your 'prices'?" He kicked a few of the copper coins dismissively.

"Hey!" I protested. "Those are mine! And that's not even my main currency! It's points! I have points!" I mentally flashed my dashboard, forgetting they couldn't see it.

The ice-eyed woman stepped closer, her gaze piercing. "Points? Tell me about these 'points,' Alex. And your 'dashboard.' There is a strange resonance about you, something… out of place. It feels like a minor spirit artifact."

My heart sank. Spirit artifact? They sensed it. They sensed the system!

Before I could react, she raised her hand. A swirling vortex of pure, chilling wind materialized around my wrist, binding me tightly.

I struggled, but it was like being caught in an invisible, icy vice.

My Systems Trader dashboard, which had been so clear in my mind, flickered and distorted.

A sharp, searing pain shot through my head, as if something was being ripped away.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled, but my voice was weak.

The ice-eyed woman looked at me with cold triumph. "I merely investigate this… 'dashboard' of yours. If it is a source of power, it should belong to the Azure Cloud Sect."

The pain intensified, like my very thoughts were being plundered. I tried to resist, but I was just a regular guy, not a cultivator. My vision blurred. When it cleared, the dashboard was still there, but the Points: 130 was gone. Replaced by: Points: 0.

My mind went blank with shock. "My… my points! You stole them! All of them!" The blue bolt of cloth, the basket of tarts, they were still clutched in my hands, thankfully. But the valuable points, my true currency, were gone. My ticket to awesome systems, vanquished.

Urg grabbed me by the scruff of my jogging shirt, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. "Empty. Just an empty vessel," he growled, dropping my pouch. "But the boy himself holds a strange energy. The Sect Master will be curious."

The slender cultivator, the one with sparks, smirked. "Another interesting specimen for the Sect's archives. Let's go. We have what we came for."

He waved his hand, and a large, shimmering disc of energy formed beneath them. It looked like a giant, translucent frisbee. Urg dragged me onto it, my feet scrabbling for purchase.

Elara and Borin, who had recovered from the initial blast, were shouting my name, but they were too far away, too helpless against these powerful cultivators.

"No! Let me go! I can trade you something! Anything!" I screamed, but it was useless.

The disc began to rise, slowly at first, then accelerating rapidly.

Below, Oakhaven Village grew smaller, its scattered lights becoming mere pinpricks in the deepening night.

I could see the terrified faces of the villagers, Borin's frustrated roar echoing up to me.

I was a prisoner. My systems, my points, my future in Oakhaven, all gone, stolen by powerful cultivators who didn't understand the first thing about fair trade.

The disc soared higher, through the emerald-tinged sky, leaving the familiar world behind.

We were heading east, towards a distant mountain range whose peaks were shrouded in perpetual mist.

I could barely make out a faint, impossible glow high up in the mountains, a beacon of light amidst the darkness.

Their sect.

My stomach churned, not just from the rapid ascent, but from the realization.

I wasn't just Alex, the Systems Trader from Earth anymore. I was Alex, the pointless Systems Trader, kidnapped by powerful cultivators, heading towards an unknown sect.

My adventure had just taken a very sharp, very unexpected, and incredibly terrifying turn.

And I didn't even have a 'Teleport Out Of Here System' to save my butt.